Chapter 6

These past few days, Mr. Vincent's attitude toward me had become even stranger.

He no longer made sarcastic remarks, but instead often stared at me.

As if observing whether I really had amnesia.

Today was the weekend. He said he was taking Ethan to the amusement park.

"You come too," he suddenly said to me.

I was surprised. "I... should I go? You won't deduct it from my pay?"

"No."

Ethan pouted on the side. "I don't want her to come!"

Mr. Vincent frowned. "Ethan."

"She doesn't want to be with me anyway!" Ethan's eyes turned red. "She doesn't care about me at all!"

I stood there, a bit awkward. She really got that right.

Willow quickly said, "Then I'll go with Ethan. Let Sophia rest at home."

Mr. Vincent glanced at me and said nothing.

The three of them left.

I sat in the living room watching TV, feeling pretty relaxed.

At 3 PM, Ethan video called me.

I answered and saw him sitting on a carousel.

"Look, I'm on the carousel!" He smiled happily.

I nodded. "Is it fun?"

"Yeah! Auntie Willow played so many rides with me!"

Willow waved and smiled in the background.

Ethan suddenly said quietly, "I wish Auntie Willow was my mommy."

This kid... really spoiled rotten.

Good thing I don't remember her.

I just smiled. "Then you have to listen to Auntie Willow, okay?"

Ethan froze, like he didn't expect me to say that.

He looked at Mr. Vincent beside him.

Mr. Vincent's face looked terrible.

"You... you're not even angry?" Ethan asked.

"Why would I be angry?" I said. "You can play with whoever you like."

Ethan's tears suddenly fell.

Mr. Vincent took the phone and hung up the video call.

I went back to watching TV.

They came home in the evening.

Ethan was holding a balloon, looking upset, his eyes still red.

Willow was also very quiet.

Only Mr. Vincent kept staring at me.

At dinner, he suddenly said, "Willow took really good care of Ethan today."

He paused. "Unlike some people."

I was drinking soup when I heard this and my hand paused.

Willow quickly said, "Vincent, don't say that..."

"I'm stating facts." He looked at me. "Some people don't even care about their child anymore."

I put down my spoon and said calmly, "Miss Willow is indeed very good."

Mr. Vincent's spoon dropped on the table.

He stared at me, eyes full of disbelief.

"That's your answer?" he asked.

I nodded. "What else?"

He suddenly stood up, the chair scraping with a harsh sound.

"You can stop caring just because you don't remember?" His voice got louder and louder. "Ethan is your son! How can you be so cold?"

Ethan suddenly jumped down from his chair and ran up to me.

"You..." His voice was trembling. "You really don't care about me anymore, do you?"

I didn't speak, afraid of upsetting him.

Tears fell from his eyes. "I said I wish Auntie Willow was my mommy, and you didn't even get angry..."

"Do you wish I wasn't your son?"

I panicked. "That's not what I meant..."

"Then what did you mean?" He cried harder. "You're obviously my mommy, why are you pretending not to know me?"

"Why don't you feel sad when I say things like that?"

He was crying so hard he couldn't catch his breath. When I didn't respond, he ran upstairs by himself.

Mr. Vincent stood there, looking terrible.

"You really..." Mr. Vincent looked at me, his voice trembling slightly. "You really don't care anymore?"

Willow also stood there awkwardly.

They all looked at me. I had to say, "I'm just a nanny. Should I care?"

He suddenly turned and chased after Ethan upstairs.

Crying came from upstairs.

It was Ethan crying, with Mr. Vincent trying to comfort him.

"Ethan, stop crying... Mommy is just sick..."

"But Daddy... the way she looks at me... like I'm a bad kid..."

"No, Mommy loves you very much..."

"Then why isn't she angry? Does she really not want me anymore..."

The child's crying gradually quieted, probably from exhaustion.

I stood downstairs, unable to describe what I was feeling.

A bit uncomfortable, but only a bit.

In the middle of the night, I got up to use the bathroom.

Passing by the master bedroom, I heard sounds inside.

"Doctor, she might really have amnesia..."

It was Mr. Vincent on the phone.

"She has no reaction to Ethan at all... completely unlike how much she used to care..."

"Traumatic amnesia? There's such a thing?"

His voice sounded a bit panicked. "Can she still recover?"

"You're saying... she might never remember?"

"No... that's impossible..." His voice changed. "She can't not remember me... can't stop loving me..."

I stood outside the door, listening to his voice.

Suddenly felt a bit pathetic.

He cared so much about whether I remembered him.

But he never seemed to ask whether I wanted to remember.