He lost his memory—then spent a month chasing my number. His friends: “Dude… that’s your wife.”

[0:00]Richard had a car accident and lost his memory, his mind was stuck at 19 when he was arrogant, rebellious, and at his absolute worst. When I first went to see him, he looked at me like I was a stranger. His eyes were cold, his voice sharper than ever. Wife? Seriously? Why the hell would I get married? Seeing how hostile he was, I chose to walk away for now. But after that day, he kept appearing around me 800 times a day, always under some ridiculous excuse. Just a coincidence, he insisted. Total accident. One month later, he proudly showed off my contact on his phone. His friends nearly lost it. Dude, you spent a whole month chasing down your own wife's number? When Richard's accident happened, I booked the next available flight and rushed back. By the time I arrived at the hospital, he had just fallen asleep. The doctor told me it wasn't serious, just a mild concussion, but due to the impact, he had developed temporary amnesia. And temporary could mean a month or a year or longer. Right now, his memory was stuck at 19. The age when he was an absolute jerk. His friends told me that Richard had completely forgotten about our marriage. It might take some time before he could accept it. I had prepared myself for this. Even when he first found out about our arranged marriage, his attitude hadn't been great, though not quite as hostile as now, he had been cold and indifferent. So for a version of Richard with the mindset of a 19 year old to suddenly accept having a wife, not easy. I took a deep breath. Then I'll come see him tomorrow. Let me know when he wakes up. Okay, sis-in-law. But before Thomas and the others could call me the next day, the hospital rang first. Miss Ashley, can you reach your husband? We've searched the entire hospital and can't find him anywhere. The security footage didn't catch him leaving either. It seems he might have climbed out the window. My breath hitched. I could hardly imagine the Richard the first Mary doing something so ridiculous. In the years we'd been together, he had always been calm and composed. I'd heard people say his 19 year old self was a completely different person, but I never expected this. I left the office and called Thomas. Turned out Richard had gone straight to the club to find them. By the time I arrived at the private room, Richard had already dragged them all into drinking. Brother Richard, I really can't drink anymore. Same here. I quit drinking years ago. Come on, Brother Richard, you should stop too. If sis-in-law finds out, we're all dead. Seriously, it's been a whole day. She must be worried. Richard raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. Calling her sis-in-law now, just trying to get out of drinking, huh? Thomas looked like he was about to cry. Brother Richard, do you seriously not remember you have a wife? Stop messing with me. Only fools get married. Why would I ever give up my freedom like that? Especially those whipped husbands spineless. In his current memory, Thomas was still that rich playboy who'd tease him for fun, especially when he lost his memory. So, of course, he didn't believe he was married. The sound of the door opening was drowned out by the loud music. Thomas was the first to spot me standing at the entrance. A chill ran down his spine as if death had arrived. Brother Richard, shut up, please. I stepped into the room and picked up a bottle of wine from the table. Everyone, except Richard, immediately straightened in their seats. Leaning back on the couch, Richard glanced up impatiently. Don't the staff here know how to knock? The rest of his sentence cut off the moment he saw me. Our eyes met. He immediately scrambled to fix his tie and shirt. First, he buttoned two undone buttons, then thought it looked worse, so he unbuttoned them again. Then he tugged the neckline a little lower, just enough to show a hint of his sculpted chest. Nineteen year old Richard was trying a bit too hard. Thomas and the others couldn't bear to watch him keep digging his own grave. They were about to say something when I shot them a look that silenced them instantly. When I walked out of the room, I heard a collective exhale of relief behind me. Brother Richard, why is your face so red? Richard looked incredulous. Me? Red? No way. Jason, the one with no filter, pulled out his phone and turned on the front camera. It's super red. Unless, wait, don't tell me you actually know who sh. Ahem, Thomas cut him off abruptly. Compared to Richard, they were more afraid of crossing me. Someone must have spiked the wine, Richard muttered. Go check it. He picked up his glass, then slammed it back down. Nope, not drinking anymore. I'm going home. Of course, by home, he didn't mean the one we lived in together. He went back to the Forest family estate. When he couldn't get the door open, he climbed the fence. Almost got arrested as a burglar. Thankfully, the guards had good eyesight, so he didn't get hurt. But he did wake up his two very grumpy, middle-aged parents. You little brat, sneaking around in the dead of night, digging up our ancestors graves or what. Old Forest, you're confused. Our son's supposed to be in the hospital. He had an accident and lost his memory. He probably doesn't even remember where home is now. Oh, now that you mention it, right. You little punk. You even forgot little Lily? Got some nerve. Richard's dad grabbed the nearest feather duster and went for his backside. Maybe 29 year old Richard would have stood his ground, but 19 year old Richard, he knew exactly how to dodge his dad's fury. He bolted upstairs and slammed his door shut. What little Lily? Big Lily? Are you two trying to set up another engagement? Back when I was 19, you were already trying to sell me off to some rich old woman and now at 29, you're still at it. His dad shouted from the stairs. You ungrateful brat, no sense of responsibility. I'm telling you, you better not ruin little Lily's life. Richard sneered. Ha. That night, my best friend Monica came over to stay with me and to help me vent. You know what? Just confront him directly. I wouldn't be surprised if this kid's faking his amnesia. Or better yet, let's grab a sack, storm the Forest estate and beat the crap out of him. It would be a lie to say I wasn't angry. My perfectly good husband had vanished for the night, claiming he was single, like marrying me was some huge burden. But seriously, Monica said, if Richard never regains his memory, what then? You guys just stay like this forever. If he really forgets for good, I sighed, then we'll just bag him up and lock him at home. The next day, since work wasn't too busy, I agreed to accompany Monica to her newly opened bakery. She wanted some feedback on the setup. Just as we arrived, my phone rang. It was Richard's mom. Little Lily, I have to tell you something. This morning, I saw brother Richard all dressed up like flashy, flashy hair gel, Cologne. I'm afraid he's Greek. The bakery door opened and in walked Richard. It was opening day at the bakery, and the place was packed, but even in the crowd, I spotted Richard instantly. No surprise, his outfit was impossible to miss. Baggy jeans with four or five oversized pockets, a white black t-shirt and a chunky silver chain around his neck. He was dressed so fashionably that even arthritis would get jealous. Speaking into the phone, I calmly replied to Richard's mom, it's fine, mom. I know what I'm doing. He might have lost his memory, but I hadn't forgotten that grudge. Carrying a tray of bread samples, I walked right past him, deliberately handing a piece to the customer beside him. Just as Richard finally reached out to grab a toothpick from the tray, Monica swooped in and took the last piece. Mm, delicious. I knew it'd be good. I made it. She looked at Richard blinking innocently. Oh, I didn't realize you wanted a taste too. Tell you what, we've got a new release. You can buy some to take home and try. Richard's mouth twitched, but Monica wasn't done. Wait, don't tell me you're just here for the free samples. Right then and there, Richard bought a $20,000 VIP membership card, purchased five pineapple buns and walked out of the store with a storm cloud over his head. Monica waved his receipt with a grin. Thanks, bestie. That's my opening day red envelope. Richard sat in the club's private room, frowning at his five pineapple buns. Isn't this from Monica's new bakery? Thomas took a bite of one and was immediately pulled onto the couch by Richard. So how do I look in this outfit? Thomas trying to be sincere, said, very on brand for your 19 year old self. Richard frowned. Are you saying I look old now? Jason, full of envy, chimed in. Old? No way, out of all of us, you've always been the best at staying in your prime. You've got that hard-hitting rugged charm, bro. I'm 29, Richard muttered, which rounds up to 30. And men over 30, basically worthless. Then he paused, eyes lighting up. Wait, she doesn't even know how old I am at that. The pineapple bun slipped from Thomas's hand. She, Brother Richard, are you talking about a woman? Richard responded casually. Mm. She's playing hard to get, but she's good at it. Holy crap, tell sis-in-law. Brother Richard fell in love at first sight. I'll message her right now. Wait, what does she look like, Brother Richard? Don't go falling for the wrong person. You all saw her yesterday, didn't you? Richard replied, it's not love at first sight. I'd never fall in love like that. And I'd never get married, but someone that pretty, I really haven't seen anyone like her. Her face is tiny, smaller than my palm. And she's so gentle. Derek, who'd been typing out a message, froze mid-sentence, his eyes widened in disbelief. Then he quickly deleted everything he had just written. Wait, yesterday at the club, wasn't that crisis averted? Thomas and Jason exchanged looks. Do you even know her name, Brother Richard? Richard shook his head. You guys know. After a lot of awkward eyebrow wiggling and mental rock paper Scissors, they sent the unluckiest one, Jason. Grinning ear to ear, Jason said, yeah, her name's Lily Ashley. We know Monica, the bakery owner. Lily's her best friend. Ah, Richard responded with a soft blink, that explains it. This bread's really good. I'll bring you guys more over the next few days. He hummed a cheerful little tune as he walked off. The rest of them stared after him. You think once Brother Richard gets his memory back, he's going to throw all of us into the river to feed the fish? Relax. Sis-in-law told us to keep quiet. With her around, Brother Richard wouldn't dare touch us. Yeah, true. The next day, Richard didn't just return to the bakery. He brought Thomas and the whole gang with him. Each one signed up for a $20,000 prepaid VIP card, officially becoming Monica's VVV VIP's. Monica nearly grinned herself into a cramp. Well, well, look who it is. My personal gods of fortune. This way, please. But Richard seemed distracted, his eyes darted constantly toward the back of the bakery, specifically the kitchen. When he didn't see the person he was hoping for, his gaze fell, disappointment playing on his face. You know the owner, don't you? Jason, in the middle of devouring a bun, froze at the sudden question. His eyes sparkled with confusion. Uh huh, you haven't seen her in ages. Don't you want to catch up? Thomas burst out laughing and shoved Jason forward. Jason scratched his head, still not quite following, but obediently walked off toward Monica. Behind him, Thomas and the others mouth exaggeratedly ask about her. Jason nodded. Hey, how come I haven't seen Lily today? Oh, her? She's not here. She's at work. Jason nodded again and turned back. Oh, Brother Richard, Lily's not here today. Richard, I didn't ask about her. And with that, he stood up and walked out. Monica was speechless. How, how did he even manage to get Lily to marry him back then? The rest of the group shook their heads in unison. No clue. Over the next few days, Richard just so happened to jog past my office building. Morning runs, pure coincidence. When he saw me, he'd quickly avert his gaze, pretending not to know me. Evening runs, still coincidentally passed by the front doors. If our eyes met, he'd wave awkwardly. What a coincidence. It was the rainy season, windy, stormy, and generally miserable. I thought he'd give up eventually, but on one particularly stormy day, he showed up in a full raincoat, still jogging. Ask him why, and he'd just say, because I love exercise. So for several days in a row, he kept up the act and I didn't say a word. Back at the club, Richard sat with Thomas, but the table no longer held empty bottles of liquor. Instead, it was piled high with bags of bread. Thomas tore open one and took a bite. The new Napoleon pastry today isn't bad. Oh, please, you said the scraps Monica gave you last time were good too. That just means I'm easy to please. Brother Richard, want a bite? It's really good. But Richard didn't look in the mood. Thomas raised an eyebrow. Something had been off with him lately. He kept calling them out to meet, only to sit in silence. Even a fool could tell he was sulking. Brother Richard, you've been acting weird lately, Thomas ventured, it's because of Lily, isn't it? Richard didn't answer directly. Instead, he casually unwrapped a bun and asked, you guys know Monica. So you probably know a bit about Lily too, right? Yeah, I guess, Jason replied, glancing at him. We're closer to her husband, though. Richard froze. She's married. Thomas, still chewing, said, yeah, though probably not for long. Richard looked like the sky had just collapsed, but within a minute, he had already convinced himself, people who don't love each other shouldn't be forced to stay together. Makes sense. I fully support her divorce. Derek took a bite of his taro tart and started rambling. Lily likes guys who are good-looking, don't smoke, don't drink, preferably mature and dependable. Yeah, exactly. The more they speculated, the more annoyed Richard became. I didn't ask you, he finally snapped. The guys exchanged helpless glances. How did they even survive being friends with him at 19? After lunch, my assistant came to me and said, I saw Mister Forest downstairs. No one at the company knew about Richard's memory loss. They all assumed we just had a marital spat. When I went downstairs, I found Richard pacing awkwardly in front of the building, clearly pretending to just be passing by. Someone said you were looking for me? I asked. A breeze caught my hair just right, the hem of my skirt billowing in the perfect arc. Richard's ears flushed red. He looked away quickly. No, not really. He didn't even realize he'd been walking with mismatched arm-leg rhythm like a schoolboy. I smiled. Oh, I work here, you know. And you just happened to be here taking a walk. Quite the coincidence. His ears turned an even deeper shade of red. The 29 year old Richard could whisper the filthiest dirty talk without blinking. Yet here he was, blushing like a schoolboy caught staring. I didn't cause you any trouble, did I? People at your company saw me. There's no trouble. They all know who you are. A leaf drifted onto his shoulder. I gently brushed it off. Richard lowered his head like a shy boy being teased. But even as he mumbled, this isn't right, he didn't move an inch away from my touch. What's not right? I leaned closer, my breath grazing his earlobe. Weren't you trying to pursue me? His back stiffened. He stumbled a step back. You knew. I casually tucked my hair behind my ear. Of course you're chasing me, aren't you? But I need some time to think it over, don't I? Richard clenched his palms. Okay. When I first met Richard, he was 27. CEO of a listed company, young, accomplished, reserved. We met through a blind date. Although I'd seen him once before, arguing with his parents over that very same date. He hadn't wanted to get married, but Richard's dad insisted that at 27, if he didn't settle down soon, no woman would want him. He even boasted about marrying Richard's mom right after college, unlike their son, who was apparently destined to die single. That was the first time I'd seen the usually cold and composed Richard lose his temper in the end. He gave in and met me. He was polite but distant. Yet the very next day, his father showed up at my house with a dowry. After we married, Richard rarely showed his emotions, except when paying the marital dues, we were more like respectful roommates. But I didn't mind. Feelings take time to grow. And now dating the 19 year old version of him, kind of made up for the fact we never got to fall in love properly before marrying. The early stage of romance, after all, is always the most thrilling. Brother Richard, what's got you in such a good mood today? You're practically glowing. Buying us all lunch. Richard casually tilted his phone to show them my profile picture. I got her WeChat. Thomas glanced over and instantly darkened. Brother Richard, wow. Congrats, I guess. Just then, two new messages popped up on the screen. Richard grinned and stood up. I've got things to do. The bill's settled, enjoy. Back in the private room. Wait, wait, wait. So the reason he's been out of it lately, coming and going every day, was just to get his legal wife's WeChat. These days, Richard showed up at my company whenever he had the chance. He'd ask me out to eat or see if I had plans after work. But his 19 year old understanding of romance stopped at dinner and a movie. Anything beyond that, he was completely clueless. At the theater, I brushed the back of his hand, and he immediately shoved both hands into his pockets. When driving me home, I asked him to fasten my seatbelt. His posture stiffened like a board. He never once touched me. This couldn't go on forever. Richard, do you know I'm already married? His head dropped, his eyes reddened at the corners, voice trembling. Can you please stop playing with me? I reached out and held his hand. Actually, just then, his phone rang. It was his younger cousin, a college freshman. Hey, didn't you say you'd bring sis-in-law to visit me? I've been waiting forever. Richard's facial muscles froze. Sis-in-law, yeah. What's wrong? I heard about the accident. Don't tell me you really hit your head too hard. Come on, even if you and sis-in-law didn't have the best relationship, how could you forget you're married? Until that moment, Richard had never truly believed he had a wife. His entire world view shattered. He jerked his hand away from mine. I'm sorry. Before I had the chance to explain, Richard vanished. I messaged him on WeChat, not a single reply. Maybe it really hit him too hard. As I wondered, my phone rang. It was Richard's mom. Little Lily, I don't know what's gotten into Richard. He's been holed up at home for days. Every night I hear him sobbing like someone dumped him, like full on wailing. I told him to come see you, but he refused. I'm worried, worried he'll do something stupid. Or worse, nothing at all. Do you want to come talk to him? I thought of his red eyes that day when he walked away. Suddenly, I understood. He really thought he'd been cheating. Two timing. Mom, could you do me a favor? Tell him I've agreed to the divorce. If he wants to talk to me about it in person, I'll say yes. She gasped. What? That's not right. Richard's the one who's been wasting your time all these years, and now he's lost his memory and hurt you again. How could you just let him off so easily? Some things I said quietly are better coming from me. Let me tell him myself. Don't worry. We're not getting divorced. I timed it so I'd be home when he arrived. Took a shower, freshened up. When the doorbell rang, I had just stepped out of the bathroom, wearing a silky nightdress, hair still damp on my shoulders. It had rung several times before I finally answered. The moment the door opened, Richard froze. He looked at me, then at the house number, then realization hit. I wasn't even wearing a bra. His face turned scarlet. With a loud slam, the door shut in my face. I grabbed a towel, casually drying my hair, then opened the door again. Richard, I said, aren't you here to get divorced? Come on in, clearly, 19 year old Richard didn't have the emotional resilience of his older self. His hands were trembling as he pulled out a chair. He kept glancing at me the whole time. I reached for the divorce papers he'd prepared. His palms were still damp from nerves or the water droplets clinging to my fingertips. I couldn't say as our skin brushed, his hand twitched slightly, unsure of what to do. I laid the papers gently on the table. Richard, I said seriously, I'm Lily, your wife, legally. So that night at the club, you were there for me, resting my chin in my hand, my half-dried hair falling loosely over my shoulders. I smiled, mmm, but you didn't recognize me. Why didn't you tell me? I shrugged. You didn't remember me and you wanted a divorce. Should I have just stood there in front of everyone, told you I'm your wife and watched you divorce me on the spot? Richard dropped his head, his voice unconsciously softening. If if you had told me, I wouldn't have. Hm? Wouldn't have what? Nothing, he murmured. But I knew exactly what he meant. Still, I had to admit, I'd been wrong too. I cupped his face in my hands and to his utter shock, kissed him. Don't be mad anymore, okay? I slid the divorce agreement aside. Whatever the case, we're still husband and wife right now. Help me dry my hair, will you? Richard made a sound in his throat. Okay. I sat down and handed him the blow dryer. He took it awkwardly, fumbling with the settings. Medium heat, lowest fan speed, I instructed. He didn't reply, but followed my words obediently. Still with his memory gone, he wasn't as skilled as before. More than once, he accidentally scorched my ear. Ow. What's wrong? He quickly turned off the dryer and leaned in to hear better. At that moment, I tilted my head, and my lips just barely brushed the corner of his mouth. Richard froze completely. The old him would have already pounced, not caring whether my hair was dry or not, dragging me to bed and ravishing me on the spot. But now, he just stood there, as if I had taken advantage of him. It's fine, he whispered to no one in particular, backing away just a bit, then turned the dryer back on. No idea who he was talking to. With the dryer running again, the room filled with the hum of warm air. My hair dried faster than expected. All done, Richard muttered, and bolted from the room like it was on fire. Next thing I knew, he was storming over to his buddies, ready to interrogate. You all knew Lily was my wife. His usual carefree attitude vanished. His eyes were ice cold. He was genuinely angry. For a second, the guys thought his memories had returned. They were caught off guard completely. Usually, when Richard came to them like this, it meant he'd had a fight with his wife again, too soft-hearted to say the harsh things to her directly, so he vented them all on them instead. Derek couldn't take it anymore. Brother Richard, we tried to tell you multiple times, you just wouldn't listen. Sis-in-law said she was willing to let you go if you really don't remember her. Then maybe divorce isn't such a bad idea. What do you mean, just divorce? Richard groaned, burying his face in his hands. Can't you guys help me put in a good word? His voice cracked with frustration. Thomas racked his brain trying to comfort him. Well, think of it this way. Starting over from scratch isn't necessarily a bad thing, right? The next second, the 6 feet 2 inches human-sized kettle beside them let out a threatening hiss. Wait, Jason suddenly said, didn't sis-in-law tell us you went over to sign the divorce papers? So now you two are. Richard's eyes widened. He'd completely forgotten about the papers. Left them on the table. He leapt up from the couch and rushed out the door. Thomas watched his retreating figure, then sighed in relief. Looks like sis-in-law saved our lives again. Outside, the rain was pouring. The doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Richard standing there, completely drenched. I frowned and handed him a towel. You're back. Forgot the divorce papers. I was tied up with some work stuff. He said, the papers aren't signed yet. Why don't you take a shower while I finish them up? But before I could even react, he'd already marched toward the papers. The next second, a giant water droplet slid off his sleeve and soaked the signature line. Oops, he said, not sounding sorry at all. He glanced at me guiltily. Let's talk about the divorce later. Where's the bathroom? Before leaving, he even tossed the soggy documents straight into the trash. By the time he came out, I was lying in bed scrolling through my phone. The scent of steam and my favorite body wash drifted into the room. When I looked up, water droplets trailed down the lines of his abs, disappearing into the towel around his waist. His voice was a little hoarse. I'm where are my clothes? You usually don't wear clothes after showering. His face turned beet red. Oh, right, you forgot. I'll grab you a t-shirt. Thanks, he muttered politely, weirdly polite, in fact. After changing, he stepped out of the room. I stopped him. You heading back to your parents? I'll find another room. The other rooms haven't been cleaned. No one can stay there. Don't worry. He added quickly. I won't do anything to you, which somehow made it sound like I was the one with intentions. So I added, not like I'm that easy either. Honestly, this version of Richard didn't have the skills of 29, nor the stamina of 19, kind of a lose-lose when I thought about it. I turned off the light. Sleep. I lay with my back to him. It wasn't long before I felt arms slip around my waist. And then something pressing up against me from behind. I turned to face him, sighed softly. Honey, I can't sleep like this. This isn't fair. Richard's eyes flickered open. He stared at me quietly. I chuckled. What's not fair? Before the words had even left my mouth, he kissed me. My breath hitched. His voice was low, horse, tinged with grievance. You lied to me. And then, plop, huge teardrops fell onto my shoulder, one after another. My heart softened instantly. What will it take for you to forgive me? He didn't answer. He kissed me again, harder this time, rougher. It wasn't gentle, it wasn't tender. It was desperate, possessive, like he had something to prove. Marks bloomed across my skin. Whether he was 19 or 29, Richard was still Richard, at least when it came to certain things. As long as I wasn't exhausted, he didn't stop, even with memory loss. His body still remembered everything. By the end, he was cradling me in his arms like an MVP, claiming his prize, carrying me to the shower. This way, it's fair, he whispered. I was too exhausted to argue. I let out a soft sigh. You really hold a grudge. The next day, after dropping me off at work, Richard began sending me hundreds of WeChat messages throughout the day. Photos of his workouts, updates on the cactus blooming in his office. He had begun recalling all sorts of things recently, and was finally back at the company, tackling the mountain of paperwork waiting for him. But oddly enough, he hadn't remembered anything about me. That evening, he picked me up on time. We went to try a newly opened Japanese restaurant. The whole way there, he seemed distracted, avoiding eye contact, awkward. Off, Richard, what's wrong? Nothing. We've slept next to each other every night for the past two years. You think I can't tell when something's bothering you? I asked Thomas and the others about us today. He gripped the steering wheel and hit it with the side of his fist. God, I was such a jerk in my twenties. People had always said our marriage lacked affection. Most of the photos and videos the media captured showed us doing our own things separately. Sometimes our two companies even butted heads during business negotiations. Work was work, home was home. Richard had dug up a bunch of old images and clips of us attending events together. We looked cordial, civil, just like a typical blind date couple going through the motions. Some people even speculated we had flash married just to please our families. And unfortunately, Thomas and the others confirmed that much was true. When we first got married, there really hadn't been much love between us. But over time, Richard had started canceling his evening drinks to come home early. He began cooking breakfast for me, taking me shopping. Eventually, he even moved out of the guest room to sleep in the master bedroom with me. I was stiff and indifferent. He muttered, if not for family pressure, why would someone like you ever agree to marry me? I was stunned to hear such self-deprecating words coming from Richard. He sounded insecure, doubtful, vulnerable. I'm surprised you think that, I said softly. You were the one who didn't want to get married in the first place, remember? And wasn't it you who insisted we sleep in separate rooms at the start? Just thinking about it annoyed me all over again. Honestly, I'd been slightly lusting after him back then. I thought that once we got our marriage certificate, we'd have our proper wedding night. But on that very day, he told me he wasn't feeling well and moved straight into the guest room. Then for days afterward, he either slept at the office or stayed curled up in the other bedroom. It took so much effort for me to get him back into the master bedroom. First, we just slept. Then we slept, slept. And then I was afraid of disappointing you, he said quietly. Before I met you, marriage was never even on my radar. I rested my chin in my palm, watching him intently. Say more. I like hearing it. Richard blinked. Didn't I already tell you, the 29 year old version of him never said these kinds of sweet things. He only whispered dirty lines in bed. You kept saying I didn't like you. I teased. But really, it was you who didn't like me. He frowned. That's not true. You're lying. You always look away when you're lying. Do you have to observe me so closely? I chuckled. Okay, fine. You did say nice things, just not this kind of nice. My cheeks warmed at the thought. But Richard clearly wasn't ready to drop the topic. He ended the top button of his shirt and removed his watch. With an amused glint in his eyes, he leaned forward. Like what, he asked. Like I squirmed. Just forget it. You'll remember eventually. His gaze locked on mine, voice low and teasing. But I want to hear you say it. God, we were still in the office. I quickly pushed back. Not the right place. Then let's say it in bed. That better? I started to seriously suspect that Richard had remembered something.