What I Choose to Remember

What I Choose to Remember

Daisy Swift · Completed · 7.5k Words

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Introduction

A car crash stole my memories, but gave me the perfect "boyfriend."

When I woke up, tattooed Knox held my hand and said: "I'm your boyfriend." I believed him. His tenderness, his daughter's affection, those photos of "us together"—what a beautiful lie.

Until a children's choir sang "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," and shattered memories flooded back: I was a kindergarten teacher falsely accused of child abuse, my ex-boyfriend Zephyr abandoned me for his career, his new girlfriend Sterling orchestrated the entire trap that even led to my car crash and amnesia...

And Knox? He was a complete stranger!

The most twisted part—I actually fell in love with this man who lied to me.

When Zephyr returned with regret, when Sterling threatened with malicious intent, when Knox waited in fear for my judgment... I made the craziest choice:

"I choose this lie."

Chapter 1

Clementine

Four o'clock in the afternoon, and I'm watching the last few kids pack up their backpacks. These little ones are like tiny suns, bringing me simple joy every single day.

"Miss Clementine, I can't find my crayons!" Five-year-old Emma frantically searches through her pink little backpack.

I crouch down to help her find the crayons, gently smoothing down her messy bangs. "Remember to keep your things in the same place next time, okay?"

Over the next ten minutes, parents trickle in to pick up their children. And then, I see him.

The moment Knox Maverick walks into the classroom, the entire space seems to fall silent. Covered in tattoos, black leather jacket—he looks like he stepped right out of a motorcycle magazine.

But when four-year-old Maple yells "Daddy!" and launches herself at him, this dangerous-looking man instantly melts.

"Hey, princess." Knox crouches down, his voice soft as a feather. "How was your day?"

I stand there watching this scene, my heart inexplicably picking up pace. Knox's hands are large, but he gently fixes Maple's messy ponytail with surprising tenderness.

"Daddy, I drew you today!" Maple excitedly pulls out a piece of paper. "Look, these are your tattoos!"

Knox seriously studies his daughter's artwork—a drawing of a dark-haired man with colorful lines on his arms. "This is the best tattoo design I've ever seen. Are you sure you're only four? I think you could be my art consultant."

Maple giggles, that pure innocent laughter filling the entire room.

I find myself moving closer. "Maple was wonderful today. She helped a new student adjust."

Knox looks up at me, and for a moment I'm stunned. Up close, he has this mature masculine appeal, but his eyes hold an unexpected warmth.

"Thanks. She's always trying to take care of people at home too. I guess it's just her nature."

"Definitely. Kindness can't be faked." I feel myself blushing.

Knox watches my expression with curiosity, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

"Kids are all so pure. Maple is especially caring—she's always the first to notice when someone needs help."

"Like her mom." Knox's voice suddenly becomes tender, but tinged with sadness.

A moment of silence hangs in the air.

"Alright princess, time to go home. What do you want for dinner tonight?"

"Mac and cheese!"

"Mac and cheese again." Knox pretends to sigh helplessly, his eyes full of adoration. "I'm starting to think you're made of cheese."

Watching this warm interaction, something stirs in my chest that I can't quite name. This man is nothing like the "tattooed bad boy" I'd imagined—his gentleness runs bone deep.

"Miss Clementine, see you tomorrow!" Maple waves goodbye.

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart." I turn to Knox.

"Thank you for taking care of her." Knox's smile is genuine.

After they leave, I start tidying up the classroom, unable to deny that those few minutes made me feel something. There's always been something intriguing about men who look tough on the outside but are gentle within.

I'm erasing the whiteboard when I hear a familiar voice from the doorway.

"Clemmie?"

My blood turns to ice. I slowly turn around to see someone I thought I'd never see again standing in the doorway.

Zephyr Blackwood. My first love. The man who shattered my heart eight years ago.

"God, it's really you." His voice carries an almost painful tenderness. "Clemmie... you're still as beautiful as ever."

I stand there frozen as the eraser slips from my hand and hits the floor. Time has rewound eight years.

Zephyr looks different. More mature, expensive suit, hair perfectly styled. The successful lawyer image he'd always dreamed of. But those blue eyes—they're still the same deep blue that once mesmerized me.

"What... what are you doing here?" I struggle to find my voice.

"Work. I'm handling a divorce case involving custody rights. Need to investigate the children's educational environment." He steps into the classroom, each step making my heart race faster. "But saying I didn't want to see you would be a lie, Clemmie."

"I know I hurt you back then. I know I have no right to be here, but..." complex emotions flash in his eyes. "I never stopped missing you."

'This can't be happening. He chose his career, chose New York, chose to leave.'

"You can't just show up and then..."

"I know. I know it's selfish, but when I heard I'd be coming back to Austin for this case, I knew I had to see you. Give me a chance to prove that leaving was my mistake. To prove that I..."

"There you are, honey."

A sweet voice comes from the doorway. A beautiful young woman with golden hair, perfect makeup, designer dress. She looks like she stepped out of a fashion magazine.

"Sterling." Zephyr's voice is tense. "How did you..."

"I've been waiting in the car for twenty minutes." Sterling enters the classroom, her steps graceful but possessive. "Thought I'd come see what you were up to."

Her gaze lingers on me, and I can sense a subtle hostility.

"And this is?" Sterling's voice is sweet, but I hear the probing underneath.

"Clementine Foster. Teacher at Little Dreamers. Clementine, this is Sterling Walsh, my..."

"Girlfriend." Sterling completes the sentence with obvious territorial marking. She extends her hand: "So nice to meet you."

The atmosphere becomes uncomfortable. The complex tension between three people—Zephyr's longing, Sterling's wariness, and my own confusion and pain.

"We should go, honey." Sterling links her arm through Zephyr's. "Are you finished with your investigation?"

"Almost. I might need to come back a few times to complete the report." Zephyr's eyes are still on me.

Sterling's smile becomes more brilliant, her eyes turning dangerous. "Of course, work comes first."

"If there's nothing else, I need to continue working." I try to maintain a professional smile.

"Of course." Zephyr's voice is reluctant. "I might contact you again soon. About the case."

After they leave, I collapse into my chair, hands trembling. The past eight years seem to disappear as all the buried feelings surge back.

I walk to the window and see Zephyr and Sterling heading toward a black Porsche in the parking lot. Sterling clings to him, clearly marking her territory. But before getting in the car, Zephyr glances back at the kindergarten.

That one look makes my heart skip hard.

Zephyr is back. With his perfect girlfriend and all the unanswered questions from eight years ago.

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