The Mate He Forgot Chapter 11

The Mate He Forgot Chapter 11

Everything felt unfamiliar–and somehow, that was the best 

part. 

Isla stepped out of the terminal, taking in the foreign skyline, 

the blend of languages around her, the way strangers met 

her eyes with easy, casual kindness. 

It wasn’t home. Not even close. 

But for once, she didn’t feel scared. 

She felt… free. 

Dragging her suitcase behind her, she followed the pin the 

landlord had sent her and made her way toward her new 

apartment building. 

The landlady, a sunny woman with a halo of blonde curls, was already waiting at the curb. She handed Isla the keys and gave a quick rundown of house rules before 

disappearing down the street like a whirlwind. 

By the time Isla realized she hadn’t even said goodbye, the 

woman was long gone. 

As she climbed the stairs, she paused for a second. She 

could’ve sworn she saw someone familiar turn the corner up 

ahead–but the hallway was empty. 

Maybe she was just tired. 

The apartment wasn’t big, but it had everything she needed. 

A cozy bedroom with a small balcony where sunlight spilled 

through gauzy curtains. 

A tidy kitchen tucked into the corner, clean and unused. 

She smiled. 

She’d always cooked for herself–out of necessity, not joy. 

Back home, no one cared whether she ate. She learned early 

on to fend for herself. Now, with a real kitchen and no one 

hovering, it felt like a tiny, quiet victory. 

She gave the apartment a quick wipe–down, unpacked her 

suitcase, folded her clothes neatly into the closet, and 

arranged her breakables with gentle care. 

By the time she collapsed onto the bed, the exhaustion from 

the plane hit her like a brick. 

Sleep came fast. 

When she finally woke, the sun was already past its peak. 

Her muscles ached from the long trip, and her brain was still 

playing catch–up. 

It took her a full minute to remember–she was in Koorana. 

She’d done it. 

She was really here. 

It was early summer in Koorana. Warm winds and endless 

sun. 

She threw on a light sundress and stepped outside, letting 

the breeze chase through her hair. The moment she turned 

the corner, a delicious smell caught her attention. 

Her feet followed instinctively. 

The restaurant had a steakhouse vibe, with rich wood tables 

and a sizzling grill behind glass. She ordered a specialty steak, swapping out the cheese wedges for plain grilled 

One bite–and she was hooked. 

Tender, smoky, seared to perfection. Maybe things really 

were looking up. 

She was practically glowing by the time she got to pay. 

Only… her wallet wasn’t in her bag. 

She froze. 

She’d left both her cash and cards in the jeans she wore 

earlier. 

Panic pricked her spine–until someone stepped up beside 

her and casually handed the cashier a gold membership 

card. 

“I’ve got it,” the man said. 

She turned–and recognized him instantly. 

The same guy from the plane. The one who’d given her his 

blanket without hesitation. 

Now that he wasn’t wearing a mask, she could finally see his 

face. 

Sharp bone structure, strong jaw, those strangely intense 

eyes. 

“Th–thank you,” she stammered. 

He gave her a small smile. 

“How can I pay you back?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, holding up the card. “It’s a prepaid dining pass.” 

“That’s kind, but I’d still like to return the favor.” 

He paused, just for a second, then tilted his head. 

“Alright. Buy me ice cream next time,” he said. “That little 

shop under your building should do.” 

She blinked. 

So she hadn’t imagined it the other day. He had been the 

one she saw earlier in the hallway. 

“Okay,” she said, smiling. “Next time, ice cream’s on me.” 

He walked away before she could ask his name. 

And only then did she realize–she hadn’t even gotten a 

chance to thank him properly. Not really. 

She stood there a little longer, heart strangely light, then 

headed back home. 

Once she had her wallet, she made a quick grocery run and 

filled the fridge with fresh produce, eggs, and simple staples. 

The moment she shut the fridge, a strange feeling swept 

through her–something warm, and unfamiliar. 

Security. 

Stability. 

Like maybe, just maybe, she could start over here. 

Her phone buzzed, dragging her out of the moment. 

It was an email. 

From Arabella. 

Photos. Attached.