Izabella was overwhelmed with fear, and even she herself didn't quite know what she was afraid of. Maybe it was the fear that the nightmare was real, that she and Brett couldn't make it to the end.
Izabella loved Brett, and that was a fact she could no longer deny. She wanted to get close to the truth, yet she was afraid to face it.
What if Brett had been deceiving her since the day she lost her memory? What should she do?
It was like a bird that had just escaped from its cage, only to find a bigger net waiting for it outside. Not to mention the traps on the net - a single wrong move and she'd be toast.
Izabella could only console herself that the things Brett was hiding from her were to keep her from getting hurt. Anyway, Brett truly loved her.
Since Izabella often had nightmares, Brett had called Stevenson back.
They both got up as the sky was getting light.
"Why not sleep a little longer? It's still early," Brett asked.
"I can't sleep anymore." Ever since she had been woken by the nightmare at midnight, she hadn't been able to fall back asleep.
Brett looked at Izabella's haggard face and couldn't help but tentatively ask, "Can you still remember your nightmare from last night?"
Izabella shook her head. "I can't remember."
"I thought you might regain your memory."
Staring at him, Izabella asked flatly, "Do you want me to?"
"Let it be," Brett said, reaching out to touch her soft hair.
She nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I think it's best to let it be. If I can't remember, then so be it. After all, it's in the past. Now I have you, and I believe you'll always be good to me, never deceive me, and never bring me pain, right?"
Brett's face stiffened, and his hand stopped stroking her hair. His gentle expression instantly turned uneasy.
Izabella's words were like a sharp weapon piercing his heart, and the pain in his chest spread throughout his body. He held Izabella tightly in his arms, his arm trembling due to some reason.
What he brought to Izabella was deception, lies, pain, and countless moments of despair. He couldn't turn back, even if it meant going through fire and water. Even if he fell into the depths of hell, he would hold onto Izabella tightly.
"Bella, I will love you well." This was his promise to her.
Love was a heavy burden in the chest, but it's also light and casual between lips. Anyone could say it, but there were few who were willing to give everything for it.
Brett had a paranoid personality and had lived in a loveless environment for many years. He longed for deep love and to be loved. Although he once had it, he didn't know how to cherish it, so he had to resort to imprisoning Izabella like a pet in a cage to keep her.
He could never be tolerant when it came to his love for Izabella in this life, and he could never let go. No matter how others judged him, all he wants was Izabella.
At the dining table, Izabella ate breakfast absentmindedly. On the surface, everything seemed as usual, but Izabella felt that something was changing.
In the morning, Stevenson came to check on Izabella, asking her how she was doing lately like an old friend.
"I'm doing fine," they hadn't seen each other for a few weeks, and Brett hadn't given Stevenson many opportunities to chat with Izabella.
After lunch, they went about their own business. Izabella took her stomach medicine and felt a little drowsy.
"If you want to sleep, go to sleep," Brett said.
Izabella softly murmured in agreement, rubbing her bleary eyes. She usually napped at this time, so she slept whenever she could.
After Izabella went to bed, Brett and Stevenson went into the guest room.
"Why did you call me here this time?" Stevenson casually sat down in a chair.
"Do you have any drugs that can control dreams?"
Stevenson looked at Brett's serious expression and stiffened slightly. "What do you mean?"
"She's been having frequent nightmares lately, and she even called out a person's name last night. I'm afraid."
Before Brett could finish, Stevenson sneered and interrupted, "You, afraid? It's just a nightmare. When did you become so scared? Taking that kind of medicine will cause you to dream more."
Brett's eyelashes flickered. He was always careful with matters of the heart, always anxious and fearful. He had also explicitly told Stevenson that Izabella would leave him as soon as she regained her memory, and what he feared most was Izabella's departure.
Curiously, Stevenson asked, "Who did she call out last night? Is that person important?"
"You wouldn't know even if I told you." The name that Izabella had spoken in her dream was important, and he had to admit it.
Stevenson understood Brett's expression and asked, "What do you want me to do?"
"The medicine she took last night doesn't seem to be effective anymore. Can you prescribe something else that can disturb her nerves, or increase the dosage?"
"It's impossible to increase the dosage. Do you really want her to become an idiot?"
"If it can keep her from leaving me, I'd rather she become an idiot!" Brett almost shouted the last few words.
Stevenson was stunned, and as he stared into Brett’s bloodshot eyes, he felt that this man must be crazy.
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