The Forgotten Love ✔

11 David

David POV.

My memories of college are hazy, like a dense fog over a swamp. I only remember recognizing Dannie, the stripper, at the pub, which brought a series of troubles.

But how could I recognize her in that dim environment if we weren't familiar?

Was there more between us?

But I can't recall anything else. Dannie seems like an emergency switch in my brain. Once I encounter her, all the faint lights just go out instantly.

I sit in my chair thinking, and browse Dannie's social media account. She doesn't update frequently; her content mainly consists of drawings or natural landscapes.

But a month ago, she rarely posted a candle emoji without any explanation.

My breath stops as I remember hearing during the investigation that she only had one relative.

Even when Dannie asked me for money, her reason was her mother's poor health, and she wanted her to have a peaceful old age.

Obviously, that money didn't help Dannie.

I call Andrew, and he tells me that her mother had cancer and that she had been receiving treatment for years since Dannie was in college.

It's already a miracle she survived until now, and a month ago, she passed away.

My hand holding the phone starts to tremble. What kind of days has Dannie been through these days? She's been so sad, yet she didn't contact me. When she handed the card back to me, she said it was over, and it really was over.

My throat is getting tighter.

An thought becomes clearer and clearer, shining on me like a strong light—what if there was no Bella? How great would it have been to fall in love with Dannie before I got with Bella?

The organizer of the Da Vinci Art Award is in California. I decline work and all meetings, take a six-hour flight over, and appear at the organizer's office door at eight o'clock the next morning.

To be precise, this is a large office with sunlight shining in through the glass roof and many paintings hanging on the simple white walls.

The staff member who receives me introduces that all previous award-winning works are stored here, arranged by year. I find Dannie's paintings strangely familiar. It's like I've been here before, like I've seen her paintings before. I'm staring at the painting, lost in thought, when a grown man's voice comes from the corridor.

The man shouts in a friendly tone: "David." I can't remember when I've seen him, but associating his face with the official photo of the Leonardo da Vinci Art Prize, I recognize him as Mr. Joseph, the organizer. I hold his hand and say, "Mr. Joseph."

He shakes my hand and pats my shoulder. "We haven't seen each other in years. The last time you came here, you were a college student wearing a hoodie and jeans."

I look down at my boring black suit and smile politely: "Come on, Mr. Joseph, let me treat you a cup of coffee."

It's only after we sit in the coffee shop that I mention my amnesia to him.

He expresses sympathy at first, then asks, "So you are here to find your memories this time?"

"To some extent, yes."

Mr. Joseph sighs, elongating his voice, "I thought you genuinely fell in love with art, and you came to talk to me about promoting the Da Vinci Award with us."

I laugh, "If I can really regain my memory, that won't be a problem. I can donate every year."

"I'd be delighted," Mr. Joseph laughs too, but he pauses and says, "But David, I might not be able to help you."

"Why?"

"I remember when you first came here, the internal selection for the art prize had already ended. You came with $90,000, and the only request was to have a look at the winning work. Honestly, I was worried at the time because during the selection process, all works were anonymous, and I didn't want to change the final winner because of your interference."

"But you looked at the winning work and didn't say anything, just directly gave the money to me."

"Later, when I asked you why, you only said you knew the winner, and she was having a tough time, so you wanted to help her."

"That's all?" I ask?

Mr. Joseph nods, "That's all."

My heart tightens, and all of a sudden, something abruptly flashes through my mind.

In the yellowed picture are memory fragments that cannot be pieced together.

I seem to see my 21-year-old self standing on campus, looking at a slim girl painting in the classroom.

The girl ties her long hair into a bun with a brush, then opens the paint box and starts splashing beautiful colors on the canvas. When she's tired of painting and stretches, I see her face clearly.

It's Dannie, 21-year-old Dannie.

More memories rush at me like a tide.

I see myself handing a bottle of water to Dannie, telling her not to take part-time jobs at pub anymore.

Dannie takes my water, thanks me, then she says she needs money.

"Why do you need money?"

"My mom is sick."

"How much money do you need?"

"$90,000."

"What if I could give it to you?"

"We're not even acquaintances, let alone friends. Why do you want to give me the money? Besides, I have hands and feet, and I earn a lot from my part-time job." She pats my shoulder. "Anyway, thank you for keeping my secret."

I leave the office in a daze and board the plane back to New York from California.

During the journey, Bella keeps texting me, asking when I'll be home, asking what I want to eat tonight.

I don't reply.

After getting off the plane, I drive straight home, smoking one cigarette after another in the car.

I remembered some things, about myself, about Bella, about Dannie.

After finishing a whole pack of cigarettes, I open the car door and stride home.

Bella is sitting in a wheelchair, waiting for me at the door, looking up at me with a gentle tone. "You must be very busy at work today, right? Did I bother you? I made your favorite..."

I interrupt her, blurting out my guess from my mind, "I've never given you a heart-shaped necklace, have I?"

Bella's eyes suddenly turn red.

She doesn't answer, just grabs the corner of my suit with both hands, almost in a whisper, "David, you don't want me anymore?"

I don't look at Bella, turning to the housekeeper, "Take care of her."

Then I turn around and leave.

Even if I can't find the answer here, I can find it elsewhere.