THE BILLIONAIRE SHE FORGOT

06

06

Hannah’s POV

~One Week Later~

It had been a week. Seven days of staring at ceilings, sending unanswered emails, and feeling like a stranger in my own skin.

I curled into myself, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. I missed Nolan. And I was heartbroken. My heart had a Nolan-sized hole in it, and it was gaping.

Killian had given me enough space. He’d even gone as far as giving me the guest room, while my clothes were in his room. His closet looked lived in, and the more I cried for Nolan, the more I ached for how Killian must be feeling.

He would go out early in the morning, and when he’s back, I’d already be asleep. So I barely saw him.

I sniffled, and wiped my eyes with the back of my hands just as the door opened. My mom stood at the entrance, a frown on her face and arms crossed.

“We’ve given you a week to decompress, Hannah. It’s time to go back to business,” she said.

Right! Apparently, I worked at my dads company as the Creative Director at Miller Global Holdings, a real estate firm. I handled ads and campaigns.

I said nothing, instead I turned away from her. Her heels clicked as she walked into the room, and I felt the bed sink from her weight.

“Hannah,” she sighed. “This must be hard on you, and I understand.”

“No, you don’t,” I replied dryly. No one here understood what it felt like to be tossed into a life you had no recollection of.

They didn’t understand how I felt like a stranger in my own skin. They didn’t know how much it hurt to not have any memories whatsoever.

She sighed again. “Okay, maybe I don’t. But I’m your mother. Maybe going into the office will jog some memories, have you thought about that?”

My heart picked up at the thought of something bringing back my memories. At this point, I was desperate for them. I stared at the picture on my nightstand, of me and Killian.

Something nagged at the back of my mind, but I couldn’t place it. I blinked back another wave of tears.

“I guess you’re right.” I stood to my feet.

They all deserved the benefit of doubt. After all, they’d told me stories in a quest to jog my memories. Killian hadn’t really spoken about how we met, well, he hadn’t really spoken to me.

I didn’t read much into it. Maybe it was his way of grieving. Because everyone in this household was experiencing a loss.

“Hurry up then, we’ll go in together.”

I strolled into the bathroom and stared at my reflection. Black hair was twisted up in knots. Red-rimmed eyes stared back at me. I looked like a ghost… and felt like one too.

Without meaning to, I stared down at my skin. Arms, chest, torso and thighs were covered in scars. Burns. If I turned, I knew I’d see the worse ones splattered across my back. They formed large and small patterns that were lighter, a huge contrast to my skin color.

The first time I woke up in the hospital, after six weeks, the skin around the burns were raised. Like welts with liquid in it. I felt hideous… and when they began peeling… I couldn’t stand myself.

But Nolan was there for me. He helped me apply ointment all over them, because I didn’t want to touch them. And now, his sudden disappearance snapped the last thread of control I held onto.

I was floundering, flailing in the darkness of water with no light in sight while the tides kept pulling me under.

A long gasp soothed the tightness of my lungs. Then, I let the hot water beat down on me. Maybe it would seep into my pores and numb my heart.

On my bed, clothes were laid out for me and I put them on. Then slipped my feet into the sleek, red heels. I winced at the discomfort but quickly adjusted.

My mom stood at the end of the hallway when I stepped out. And together we drove to the office. The ride was silent. Thick with everything we didn’t say.

“This was your office, still is,” she led me into a room with glass doors and walls. It looked untouched, there was an opened laptop, a vase of plastic flowers and a frame. Of Killian and I.

I picked it up.

“You both were obsessed with each other,” my mom said with a tight-lipped smile. But looking at the picture, we didn’t look obsessed with each other.

My smile didn’t reach my eyes. I dropped the frame back on the desk, but this time… face down.

She walked me through everything I needed to know. How I ran my campaigns, and ads. What I loved and what I didn’t love. And then she introduced me to my assistant.

“It’s good to have you back, Hannah,” Elise said with a warm smile. I could only give a nod in response.

It’s the same thing everyone said when I stepped into the building. Either I was a lovely boss and they truly missed me, or they said it out of necessity. It pissed me off that I didn’t know which it was.

“Mom, I need to be alone,” I told her when it seemed she wanted to hover over me for the rest of the day. “I think I understand what you’ve asked of me.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded. “Okay. If you need anything, you know my office and your dad’s.”

When she left, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. My hands trembled when I reached for my laptop, and I sighed shakily.

The realization that this was my life, was a hard pill to swallow. But I swallowed it nonetheless. No Nolan, No memories… just my old life that was meant to be regular but wasn’t.

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock. I looked up to find Elise. I raised a brow.

“You have a package from your husband’s assistant,” she said, her voice tight around the word husband.

I frowned. “Why can’t you get it and bring it yourself?”

“She said he wants it to be delivered by her.” Elise shrugged.

That was odd.

Why did she need to bring it herself? Did Killian send something I’d remember? Or forget again? Or maybe that was how my husband usually delivered packages?

That lump in my throat thickened like it always did when I couldn’t remember something.

I bobbed my head slowly, confused. “I guess you can send her up.”

Elise returned a few minutes later, followed by a stunning woman in heels and a charcoal-gray blazer that looked like it belonged on a Paris runway.

“Mrs. Grayson,” she said with a small nod. “I’m Camille Wyatt. Killian’s executive assistant.”

Her tone was warm. Friendly, even. But her eyes lingered a second too long.

“He asked me to bring this to you personally.” She set a black gift box on my desk, sleek and ribboned in gold.

“Thank you,” I murmured, awkwardly. Something about her felt… unreadable. My eyes never left her face.

“Of course.” She gave a tight smile. “You’re still adjusting. But it’s good to have you back.”

As she turned to leave, her fingers brushed the frame I’d turned face down earlier. She picked it up and set it upright with care.

“I always loved this one of you two,” she said, eyes glinting just slightly. “It’s the same one in his office.”

And just like that, she was gone.

I stared at the photo once again. At Killian’s hand on my waist, and the tight smile on my own face. Something about it made my stomach twist. I opened the box.

A necklace sat in it. Simple, expensive, and unfamiliar. It was beautiful.

So why did I feel so… cold?