The Memories I Erased Chapter 13
you’re awake, we can begin the surgery.”
I struggled to move on the operating table, only to realize that my hands and feet were tied down.
Surgery? What was she planning to do to me?
A white-bearded old man in surgical scrubs stepped closer. “If the patient’s subconscious mind actively resists restoring his memories, it will drastically lower the success rate of the procedure. It could even cause memory confusion, or in the worst-case scenario, permanently damage his cognitive functions.”
Hearing his words, I thrashed even harder, and the restraints chafed my wrists so badly that they began to bleed.
He gave me a look of pity before turning to ask Phoebe, “Even with these risks, do you still wish to proceed?”
Her brows knitted together as she weighed the risk. “Didn’t you say earlier that you were confident? Is the risk really still that high even under general anesthesia?”
The old man nodded helplessly. “The patient explicitly refuses the surgery and is experiencing extreme emotional volatility. His subconscious has completely shut down any possibility of memory recovery. When medical intervention collides directly with human consciousness, no one can predict the outcome.”
“What if we simply erase his memories from the past month, or alter them instead? Would the risk be lower?”
The old man scratched his beard, pondering for a few minutes. “When a patient refuses to cooperate, any memory -related procedure carries inherent risk. However, erasing a single month’s memory is indeed far less dangerous.”
After a few tense seconds, Phoebe made up her mind.
“Then delete this past month of his memories. Even if he ends up a fool, I’ll take responsibility for it.”
I glared at her. “Don’t make me hate you, Phoebe.”
Her eyes locked onto mine with a dark, chilling intensity, her tone dripping with absolute certainty. “What’s the matter? Is forgetting that Macy girl really making you suffer this much? Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen in love with her.”
Gritting my teeth, I said, “If you dare strip away my memories, I swear on my life I will never love you.”
Phoebe’s eyes reddened, yet her gaze remained firm. “Fine then. Let’s see how you’re going to hate me once you’ve turned into a fool.”
She instructed the doctor to inject the anesthetic into my system.
Through the haze, I vaguely caught the chaotic sound of shouting, but within seconds, my consciousness slipped completely into darkness.
When I opened my eyes again, the very first thing I saw was Macy’s deeply concerned gaze.
“Hey, why are you staring off like that? You haven’t even had the surgery. Did you really forget who I am?”
I stared blankly for a few seconds. Seeing my silence, Macy panicked to the point of tears, gripping my arm tightly.
“Did you really forget me?! Damien, think! Remember who I am!”
I reached up and gently touched her face. “It’s so good that you’re still in my memories.”
The tension in Macy’s shoulders finally broke. Then, she explained what had happened two hours prior.
When she went to my place to find me, she saw my luggage scattered across the floor with no sign of me anywhere. She immediately contacted Cora to check the home security footage, only to discover that Phoebe had used sleeping pills to knock me out before having her thugs kidnap me.
By the time we tracked you down, you were already under anesthesia on the operating table.
“Luckily, Cora and I arrived just in time. Otherwise, that wicked woman would have had her way.”
With a stoic expression, I asked what happened to Phoebe in the end.
Macy’s temper instantly flared up. Her eyes were wide as she stared at me in utter disbelief. “After everything she did to you, you still care about her?”
Caught between amusement and exasperation, I quickly tried to explain.
