The notebook lay open on the bed, pages fluttering lightly in the morning breeze from the cracked window. Mina clutched it to her chest as if it were a lifeline.
The man from the photo—Liam—sat across from her in the small chair by the door. He didn't move, didn't speak, just watched her. There was a quiet patience in him that felt unnatural, almost sacred.
"I… I don't understand," Mina whispered. Her fingers traced the notebook's edges. "How… how can I feel something… for someone I don't even remember?"
Liam's lips curved into the faintest of smiles, one that carried a mixture of sadness and hope. "Because it's not about remembering," he said softly. "It's… deeper. You feel it before your mind catches up."
She looked at him, confused. "Feel what?"
"Love," he replied simply.
Mina shook her head. Her chest tightened again. "That's impossible. You can't… love someone you've never met—or… never remembered."
Liam leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His gaze softened. "I know it feels impossible. But I've seen it happen. Every time."
Mina's breath caught. "Every time?"
He nodded, pain flickering across his face. "Every… week. You forget me. But then… your heart—your heart remembers. Even when your mind doesn't."
She swallowed hard. "And… you… you just… stay?"
"I don't go anywhere," he said. His voice barely above a whisper. "I can't. Not if there's even a chance you'll remember me… or… if you still love me."
Mina stared at him. Her heart beat faster, erratic, desperate. There was a strange pull she couldn't explain. Something aching in her chest told her she should trust him. But her mind… her mind said run.
"I don't even know your name," she said finally.
His smile faltered. "Liam," he said, almost shyly. "It's me. Liam."
The name rolled off her tongue, foreign but strangely… familiar. It made her stomach flutter.
"You… sound like someone I… should know," she murmured. "I… think… I like you?"
Liam's chest tightened at the words. Like a candle in the wind, hope flickered. He took a slow, careful breath. "You… do. I've never doubted it. Even when you forget me."
Mina shook her head again. "But I… I don't remember anything."
"No," he said gently. "Not yet. But that's okay. You don't have to remember everything all at once. You just… have to let yourself feel it."
She studied him, his tired eyes, the quiet strength in his posture, the way he seemed to exist entirely for her—even when she had forgotten him.
"I'm scared," she admitted, her voice small. "Of… feeling something I can't explain. Of… losing it again."
Liam's hand twitched, hovering near hers. "I know. I'm scared too. But you… you can't control your heart. And… your heart… keeps choosing me."
Mina looked down at her lap, breathing shallow. She could feel it. That strange pull. That warmth. That ache. A love that existed beyond memory, stubborn and unrelenting.
"I don't… know if I'm ready," she whispered.
"You don't have to be," he said. "I'll wait. As long as it takes. Every week, every day… I'll wait."
For a long moment, the room held only the soft hum of the world outside. The notebook rested between them like a bridge.
Mina glanced at the photo taped inside. She looked at the man smiling at her. Then she looked at Liam.
Her fingers reached out slowly. Tentatively.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, they met his hand halfway.
It wasn't remembering.
It wasn't understanding.
It was… something simpler. Something real.
It was the first spark of love she hadn't forgotten— yet.