Liang Zhi spent the next few days in a haze, unable to focus on anything but the woman's words. The journal, the fragments of memories, the promise that he would remember—it all weighed heavily on him. He couldn't escape the pull to understand, to unravel the truth that was slowly slipping back into his life. But with each passing day, the confusion only grew deeper.
His apartment had become a sanctuary of sorts, a place where the walls seemed to close in around him with every thought. But even there, he couldn't escape her presence. The woman, the memories, the feelings they stirred—everything about her was relentless, like a storm he couldn't outrun.
He had spent hours combing through the journal again, desperately hoping to find some kind of clarity, but the more he read, the more lost he felt. There were passages that spoke of love, of longing, of moments so intimate they made his chest tighten with an unfamiliar ache. But there was something else—something in the lines of the journal that hinted at pain, at loss, at a promise made to someone he couldn't quite place.
"You won't remember all at once," the woman had said. "But when you do, it will be like waking up from a dream."
That was what he needed—the key to remembering, the one thing that could unlock the past and set him free from the chains of his grief. But what did it mean? What was he supposed to wake up to? Was it love? Or was it something darker?
He pushed those thoughts aside, unable to think about them any longer. His mind was a battlefield, torn between the longing for answers and the fear that what he might discover would destroy everything he knew about himself.
As the evening fell, Liang Zhi walked through the streets of the city, the familiar hum of life around him barely registering in his mind. He had to get away, to clear his head, even if it was just for a little while. The weight of the journal, the mysterious woman, and the unanswered questions was too much to bear.
The streets were quieter than usual, the cool night air brushing against his skin, but it did little to soothe the restlessness within him. As he walked aimlessly, his thoughts consumed him, until he found himself at a small, hidden café tucked away in a corner of the city. It was a place he had visited often, a quiet spot where he could be alone with his thoughts.
He stepped inside, the bell above the door chiming softly. The café was warm, with soft lighting casting a cozy glow over the room. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries filled the air, but it did little to lift the weight on his chest. He chose a corner seat, away from the few other patrons scattered throughout the café, and ordered a cup of coffee.
As he sat there, his fingers nervously tracing the rim of his cup, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of déjà vu. Everything about this place seemed so familiar, yet he couldn't remember why. He had been here before, he knew he had, but when? And with whom?
His mind reeled with questions, but no answers came. He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on a small table by the window. A woman sat there, reading a book, her back turned to him. She was alone, but there was something about her that felt... familiar. The way she sat, the way her hair fell gently over her shoulder—it was all so eerily reminiscent of the woman from the park.
His heart skipped a beat. Could it be? No, it couldn't. The woman had left his apartment only days ago. But the sensation of recognition was undeniable.
He found himself rising from his seat, his legs moving almost of their own accord. He didn't know why he felt so compelled to approach her, but he couldn't stop himself. Every step felt like a pull, an invisible force guiding him toward her. As he neared her table, his breath caught in his throat.
The woman turned, and their eyes met.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The world around them faded into the background as they locked eyes, and in that brief instant, Liang Zhi was flooded with a surge of emotions—emotions that didn't belong to the present, but to a past he had long forgotten. There was a warmth, a familiarity, a deep connection that felt like a secret buried in the depths of his soul.
She didn't speak at first, just gazed at him as though she were waiting for him to say something. But words eluded him. All he could do was stare, captivated by the intensity of the moment.
Finally, she broke the silence, her voice soft but clear. "You're here."
Liang Zhi blinked, his heart pounding in his chest. "I didn't expect to see you here," he said, his voice hoarse. "Why are you...?"
She smiled faintly, the same sad smile that had haunted him ever since their first meeting. "I knew you would find me eventually. You always do."
The words sent a shiver down his spine. "Find you?" he repeated, his mind racing. "But... I don't remember."
She sighed, her eyes filled with a deep sadness. "You will," she said softly. "Everything is as it should be."
"I don't understand," Liang Zhi admitted, his voice trembling. "I don't understand any of this. Why now? Why me?"
The woman reached across the table, her hand resting gently on his. Her touch was warm, comforting, yet it sent a jolt of electricity through him. "Because," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "you're ready."
Liang Zhi stared at her, the words hanging in the air like a fragile thread between them. Ready? Ready for what?
Suddenly, the world around them seemed to shift, and a memory—vivid and sharp—flashed before his eyes. It was like waking up from a dream, only to realize that the dream had been his reality all along.
He saw her, standing in a field of flowers, her eyes looking at him with such love, such longing. He felt her touch, soft and tender, and in that moment, he remembered everything. He remembered the way her laughter had filled his world, the way they had once been inseparable, bound by a love that had felt so certain, so right.
But then, just as quickly, the memory was gone, leaving him with nothing but the empty ache of longing.
The woman's voice broke through his daze. "Do you remember now?" she asked, her eyes searching his face.
He nodded slowly, his heart heavy with the weight of the revelation. "I do," he whispered, the words slipping from his lips like a confession.
But even as the truth settled in his heart, he knew that this was only the beginning. The woman had returned to him for a reason, and the journey to uncover the full story of their love, their loss, and their tangled past had only just begun.
Later That Night:
Liang Zhi lay awake in his bed, the memory of the café and the woman's touch still fresh in his mind. He had remembered something—something important—but the details were still too fragmented, too elusive. He could feel the pieces of his past slipping through his fingers, like sand in the wind.
But for the first time in a long time, there was a glimmer of hope. The truth was within reach. He just had to be patient, to let the memories come when they were ready.
And when they did, he would finally understand everything.