The Day The World Forgot (But He Remembered)
1063 Words
Why did my chest feel warm? What is wrong with me?
And yet… every time Pierce shows up, my heart stumbles in my chest like it’s forgotten how to beat. Is it weird to feel this kind of nervous happiness just because my husband’s younger brother is around? Maybe I’m overthinking. Maybe I’m just paranoid.
Still, I can’t ignore the way my hands tremble a little when he’s close. Like now.
I glanced at him just as he licked his fingertips and looked up at me. Our eyes met, and for a moment, the world fell away.
His gaze softened, and so did I. Butterflies stirred in my stomach.
“Got more tomatoes?” he asked, breaking eye contact and looking down.
“Yes… but…” I cleared my throat. For what? There was nothing caught there. “Don’t you think sitting on the floor is a bit… dirty?”
He tilted his head slightly, amused. “Is the floor dirty?”
“No, it isn’t,” I said too quickly, cringing at myself. Why did I even bring that up? He asked for tomatoes, not my opinion on the kitchen tiles.
“That’s why I’m sitting here,” he said simply. “Because I know it’s clean.”
“Oh. Right.” I shrugged awkwardly, trying to seem casual. “The tomatoes are fresh. First season. That’s why they taste so good.”
Why did I say that? He didn’t ask. My big mouth always tries to drag our conversations out… even when he clearly doesn’t plan to stay long.
“Nice.” He stood up from the floor and slightly touched my right hand as he collected another one I was slicing on the chopping board, from me.
“Don’t mind me collecting this one from you. It tastes much better when it’s from the hands of a woman.” He put the last piece of tomato into his mouth and mumbled a few words.
Does it taste much better when it’s from the hands of a woman? What does he mean?
“What did you say?” I didn’t hear the last words he said.
Why am I feeling good hearing that from him? Maybe I’m just delusional. There is no way Pierce is flirting with me when he knows I’m married to his brother.
I'm probably overthinking it, right?
“I said, isn’t this the day of your daughter’s death anniversary?”
His words shocked me to the bones. My wide eyes wouldn’t move away from his expression.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that? Did I say something wrong?”
“How… how did you know?” I whispered, my voice shaking, tears burning the corners of my eyes.
It hurt, more than I expected, that someone who wasn’t close to me, someone who wasn’t even my husband, remembered the date of my daughter’s death.
This family… They barely speak her name. Most days, it feels like she never existed to them.
Except for Taila.
“From your expression,” he replied nonchalantly. “You were crying before I came in, right?”
I couldn’t answer that.
“It was because this was the day she died, right?”
I guess he took my silence as an answer.
I nodded. “Yes.” I forced out, holding back my tears even more.
“I have a retentive memory,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I remember things… even when I wish I didn’t. It’s both a curse and a gift.”
He stepped back, moving toward the door without another word.
“Thank you,” I said softly, my voice catching.
He paused.
“Thank you… truly. For remembering my daughter.”
I wiped the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand, trying to hold myself together.
“I mean it,” I added, barely above a whisper. “It… it means more than you know.”
Pierce didn’t turn around, but I saw the way his shoulders lifted slightly, just a breath, just enough to say he heard me.
“Send my regards to Lucy Merliah Mist when you visit.” Then he walked out, leaving behind a silence that somehow felt heavier than before.
I smiled at his last words. He said her full name.
Lucy Merliah Mist.
Her own father doesn’t even remember that. He never used her full name or marked the day she died. But Pierce did. By the door was a bouquet of red roses, wrapped with a black ribbon. A small card read:
From Pierce Mist
To Lucy Merliah Mist
My chest tightened. He brought them for her. Was that why he came all this way? He didn’t have to. He could’ve left them at her grave, but he didn’t. Maybe he wanted me to know he remembered. This wasn’t the first time he gave her gifts quietly. But why? He wasn’t close to her, barely saw her.
Did Taila tell him to do it? I don’t think so. Maybe he just never forgot. I don't know. Yet, it was so nice of him.
The day my daughter was buried, I cried helplessly in Pierce’s arms. My forehead rested against his black turtleneck, pressed to his firm chest. His slow, steady heartbeat felt warm as he wrapped his arms around me. His gray jacket brushed my shoulders, and I felt like a bird nestled safely in a quiet nest, hidden from the cruel world.
His long hair brushed my nose when he leaned down, resting his chin on my head to comfort me. The warmth and protection overwhelmed me, I cried harder, drowning in the loneliness and the sudden touch of care I’d almost forgotten.
I sat on a black stool in front of a tall golden mirror, combing through my long white hair, freshly dyed and blow-dried.
My yellow sleeveless gown glowed against my pale skin, and the white strands draped neatly over my shoulders. Naturally, I’m blonde. But lately, I'm white.
I dye my hair when the white hue fades because the Mist Clan chiefs’ families have white hair. To comply with the Mist pack’s standards and fit in with the family, I got advised to always dye my hair white.
I hope I don’t go bald with these chemicals and herbs I usually take to dye up my hair.
- Writer
