Wait, I think he did say something about me finding a new love, that I was going abroad to start a new chapter. Could Horace be my next chapter?
No wonder I felt a sense of familiarity with him from the moment I saw him.
George looked at Horace, confused. "Something feels off about Ms. Jones. Did she forget you? Why is she reacting so strangely?"
Horace stared at me, his brow furrowed with worry. "Zephyra, what's wrong? Did you hit your head during the fall from the bridge? Are you hurt anywhere?"
Seeing his concern, knowing how worried he'd been and how long he'd searched for me, I felt he couldn't be a bad person. Clutching the fabric of my dress, I said, "Well, the thing is, I have amnesia. I don't remember you guys anymore."
George was shocked. "You have amnesia?!"
The hand Horace was holding me with tightened instantly, his emotions clearly much more agitated.
"Have you seen a doctor? What's wrong?"
Just as I was about to answer, my waist was suddenly seized. Someone expertly wrapped an arm around me, pulling me back. The grip was strong but didn't hurt me.
My back was pressed firmly against the person's chest. A faint scent of sandalwood filled my nose, and I immediately knew who it was. The hand Horace held was abruptly pulled away.
Then, a familiar, low, and cold voice sounded slowly by my ear.
"Zephyra, did you enjoy holding another man's hand?"
My heart pounded. I tried to turn and look at Steven's face, but his arm held me tight. I answered weakly, "Don't be ridiculous. I wasn't holding his hand... and he said... he said he's my fiancé."
The expressions on both Horace and George's faces changed.
Steven's response was a cold sneer.
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