The Erased CEO

Evelyn’s World

Nathan stood on the small wooden porch, staring out at the quiet stretch of land before him. Morning dew clung to the grass, glistening under the soft sunlight that had begun to push through the clouds. The air smelled fresh—clean in a way that felt foreign, like something from another lifetime.

This place… It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t suffocating like the fragmented flashes of city lights that sometimes flickered at the edge of his mind. He still couldn’t remember anything concrete, but he knew one thing for sure: this wasn’t the life he’d come from.

He had been someone else before this. Someone important.

And yet, for the past few days, he had existed in a quiet routine that wasn’t his.

Evelyn’s world.

The creak of the door behind him pulled him from his thoughts. "You planning on standing out here all day?"

He glanced over his shoulder to see Evelyn stepping outside, pulling a sweater over her arms as the cool air touched her skin.

"Just… thinking," he murmured.

She leaned against the railing beside him, studying his face. "Any new memories?"

He exhaled, shaking his head. "Nothing useful. Just flashes of things I don’t understand."

Evelyn hesitated. "Like what?"

He turned his gaze back to the horizon. "City lights. Tall buildings. The sound of—" He stopped, frowning as something flickered in his mind. Voices. Phones ringing. The faint echo of his own name being called, but too distant to reach.

Then, just as quickly, it was gone.

Evelyn noticed his tension but didn’t press. Instead, she bumped her shoulder lightly against his. "Well, you’ve got time. No pressure."

No pressure.

He let out a soft huff of amusement. If only she knew how heavy the weight of not knowing truly was.

—

By afternoon, Nathan had somehow found himself standing in Evelyn’s kitchen, sleeves rolled up, hands covered in flour.

"This isn’t working," he muttered, scowling at the dough that refused to take shape beneath his hands.

Evelyn stifled a laugh from where she stood beside him. "You’re overthinking it."

"I don’t even know what I’m thinking," he shot back.

"Clearly not about baking," she teased. "Here, let me help."

She stepped closer, reaching for his hands. Without thinking, he let her. Her fingers were warm as she guided his own, kneading the dough with practiced ease.

"See?" she murmured. "It’s not about force. Just pressure."

Nathan didn’t respond. He was too focused on the way their hands fit together, the soft cadence of her voice as she explained something he wasn’t really listening to.

A strange feeling settled in his chest.

Not just attraction.

Something quieter. Safer.

It was dangerous.

The moment she stepped back, he cleared his throat and forced himself to look away. "You… You do this often?"

Evelyn raised a brow, sensing his sudden shift but choosing not to call him out on it. "Bake? Yeah. It’s kind of my thing."

"You own a bakery," he guessed.

She hesitated. "Used to. Before I moved out here."

He caught the slight change in her voice. There was a story there, one she wasn’t ready to tell. He didn’t push. He had his own missing past to worry about.

But still, it made him wonder.

What had made her leave behind something she loved?

—

That evening, after they finished dinner, Evelyn tossed him a set of keys.

Nathan caught them instinctively. "What’s this?"

"The truck," she said. "I figured you might want to get out for a bit. Drive around, get some air."

He looked down at the keys, something flickering in his chest.

She trusted him.

Despite knowing almost nothing about him, despite the fact that he could have been anyone—a criminal, a liar, a threat—she had chosen to believe in him.

It made something tighten in his throat.

He clenched the keys in his palm and nodded. "Thanks."

Evelyn smiled. "Don’t get lost."

Nathan gave a small smirk. "Not much of a risk when I don’t even know where I’m going."

She laughed, and for the first time in days, something inside him felt steady.

Maybe he had no past.

But at least for now, he had this.