Xiao Yu stood at the top of the stairs on the second floor, clearly overhearing Aunt Liu and Morin's conversation. Gong Ting would lose his memory? How could such a melodramatic thing happen to him?
Seeing Aunt Liu hang up the phone and look towards the second floor, Xiao Yu quickly slipped into the master bedroom. This had once been Gong Ting's room, and the air still carried his scent, but now that scent was gradually fading.
She desperately wanted to hold onto something, only to find that the more she tried, the harder it became.
She sat on the edge of the bed, cradling her face in her hands. Gong Ting, will you forget what happened between us? If so, would I then no longer have to worry and fret about you refusing to let me go?
But why does the thought of us becoming strangers hurt me so much? It suffocates me to the point I can hardly breathe.
