Tragic Love [Champion, By Marie Lu]

        I step into the hospital room. Julian is agile, propped up on pillows and startlingly healthier than the times I've seen him lying unconscious and wan over the past few months. But something is different now. Julian's eyes follow me without a hint of familiarity in them; he's watching me with polite, wary distance of a stranger, the way he looked at me when we first met.

       He doesn't know me. Relax. Calm down. And just breathe. I tell myself. I cannot cry in front of Julian. Stay strong. Do it for him.

        My heart aches, pulling at me as I draw closer to his bedside. I know what I have to do.

        "Hi," I reply softly. "Do you know who I am?"

        Julian looks guilty, which only digs the knife deeper. "Should I?"

        It takes all of my effort not to cry, to bear the thought that Julian has forgotten everything between us-our night together, the ordeals we've been through, all that we've shared and lost. It's lost in oblivion. Completely insignificant to him. We, I’ve, been erased from his memory, leaving nothing behind. The Julian that I knew is not here, and I don't know if he will ever return. I hope so.

        I could tell him right now, of course. I could remind him of who I am. That am Daniella Iparis, the girl he had once saved on the streets, and the one he once loved. I could tell him everything, just like Dr.Kann said, and it could possibly trigger his old memories. Tell him, Daniella. Just tell him. You'll be so happy. It’d be so easy.

        But I open my mouth and no sound comes out. I can't do it.

        Be good to him, Tess told me. Promise. And i will not hurt him once again. Ive been given a chance to do good by him. A chance that everyone doesn't receive, and I will not waste it, just so I could be happy. Its about him, not me.

        So long as I remain in Julian's life, I will hurt him. Am the knife, and he is the heart. I will not stab him, ever, again.

        Even though he looks at me now like a stranger, he no longer has the look of pain and tragedy that always seemed to come with passion and love he gazed at me with. Now he is free.

        He is free of us, leaving me as the only bearer of our past's burden. Leaving me as the only bearer of our past burden, and I will never put that heavy burden on him, ever again. He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve any of this!

        I swallow hard, smile, and bow my head to him. "Julian," I force myself to say, without choking up. "It's good to meet you. I was sent by the Republic to see how you're doing. It's wonderful to see you awake again. The country is going to rejoice when they hear the good news." It makes me sick to my stomach, at how nonchalant I’m being. That I’m lying to him, once again. But I must remind myself, that I’m doing this for his good.

            Day nods politely in return, his tenseness unmistakable. “Thank you,” he says warily. “The doctors tell me that I’ve been out for five months. What happen?”

        “You were injured during a battle between the Republic and the Colonies,” I reply. Everything I’m saying sounds like its coming from someone else’s mouth, which it is. He has no recollection of me, and I’m just another stranger to him. I am nobody to him. “You saved your brother Eden.”

            “Is Eden here?” Julian’s eyes light up with recognition, and brings me pain even as I am happy that he remembers his brother. If only he gave me that look.

            “Eden will be so happy to see you. The doctors are sending for him, so he’ll arrive shortly.” I return his smile, and this time it’s genuine one, if bittersweet. When Julian studies my face again, I close my eyes and bow slightly to him.

            “Julian,” I say, carefully choosing what my final words to him should be. “It has been such a privilege and honor to fight by your side. You’ve saved many more of us than of you’ll ever know.” For a small moment, I fix my eyes on his, telling him silently everything that I’ll never told him aloud. “Thank you,” I whisper. “For everything.” But what I really wanted to say was, remember me! Remember us! I love you. Why won’t you remember?! Please remember.

            Day looks puzzled by the emotion in my voice, but he bows his head in return. “The honor is mine,” he replies. My heart breaks in sorrow at the lack of warmth in his voice, the warmth I know, that keeps dragging me in, and making me crave more. It is gone now.

            If he knew who I was, I would say something else to him now, something I should’ve said to him more often when I had the chance. Now I am sure of it, but it’s too late. So I fold the three words back into my heart, and rise from his bed. I soak every last detail of his face, body, and smell, and store it away. We exchange quiet salutes.

                                                Then I turn away for the last time.