BEN smiled without realizing it. Just watching and listening to that girl was enough to make him feel at ease—happy, even. Maybe this was what they called love. The first time he locked eyes with her up close, his heart pounded like crazy. It was a feeling so intense, a longing so deep that words couldn’t do it justice.

Jenna’s laughter. That voice of hers—it was like the melody of a flute, haunting his nights. Ah, he was completely smitten. He wanted to walk up to her, to say something, anything. But every time, he hesitated. He knew the moment he stood before her, words would fail him. He’d freeze, just staring like an idiot. Love was a mystery, and longing? A beautiful kind of pain.

“Ugh, come on! It’s getting late. We’re gonna be late!”

From a distance, Ben watched as she walked away. His eyes followed her every movement, unwilling to blink.

"If only I had the courage to tell her."

Ben smiled to himself.

JENNA reached for a piece of fried chicken in the bowl in front of them, but Latifa smacked her hand away. She pouted. Undeterred, she tried again—this time, Sue swatted her hand.

“Ms. Martin, you have allergies. Can you please be more mindful of what you eat? If you get sick, we’re the ones who have to deal with it.”

Jenna shot them a quick glare. “Just a little bite. I just wanna taste it.”

“Oh no, don’t even try. We’re not spending another night in the hospital because of you.”

Latifa and Sue laughed as Jenna sulked, lips pursed and arms crossed.

“Why do I have to be stuck with such a weird allergy? Everyone else can eat chicken. Why can’t I?” she complained, clearly frustrated.

The smell of fried chicken filled the air, teasing her senses. She knew exactly how good it tasted—she’d had it before, back when Latifa and Sue didn’t yet know about her allergy. Ever since then, they’d been on full-time food patrol, making sure she didn’t slip up. Otherwise, they’d end up taking turns spending nights at the hospital with her.

Jenna’s allergy wasn’t something to take lightly. She’d once stopped breathing, her heart had stopped for almost two minutes. The doctors had to resuscitate her to get her breathing again.

“Not even a tiny bite?” Jenna pleaded.

“It’s not that we don’t want to let you. Let me ask you something—have you lived long enough? Have you had enough air in this world? If you have, go ahead. I won’t stop you. If not, then don’t. I swear, I’ll smack you,” Sue warned.

Jenna shot her a glare. The aroma of spicy, crispy fried chicken was pure torture. The mix of fragrant spices was calling her name.

In the end, she sighed in defeat. “Fine. I’m going to bed. I’m mad at both of you. Hmph!”

Latifa and Sue’s laughter echoed behind her, making her even more annoyed. Having a chicken allergy meant she had to practice extreme self-control. She was used to it, but still…

Sigh…

Jenna flopped onto her bed, flipping through a sketchbook. On one of the pages was a drawing of a girl with long hair flowing past her shoulders. Below the sketch, a single line was written:

I love you, Jenna.

—Ben

She smiled for the hundredth time. Every time she thought about this mysterious guy named Ben, she felt both excited and uneasy. What if he was some creepy perv? Or just some random guy messing with her?

She’d been holding onto this sketch for almost a week now. It had probably been dropped by this Ben guy near the park outside her apartment building.

“Who are you, Ben?”

HE searched high and low, but it was nowhere to be found. He knew every single detail of the sketches he had drawn. Out of the 43 sheets of paper, one had gone missing.

Ben sank into his chair, frustrated. And of all the sketches to lose, it had to be that one—the one he liked the most. The one where he had poured his feelings for Jenna into every stroke. He tried to recall where he had been in the past week. He had even checked the park near Jenna’s place. Still, nothing.

"Could it really be gone for good?"

“Ben…”

“Yeah…” Ben shot up, quickly gathering his sketchbook and stuffing it into his bag. Just as the door swung open, he shoved the bag out of sight.

Beatrice poked her head in. “You’re still up?”

Ben grinned and shook his head.

Beatrice stepped in, crossing her arms. “Where’d you go this evening?”

Ben hesitated.

“The park again?”

He just grinned.

Beatrice let out a small sigh. “How long are you gonna keep your feelings a secret? If you like her, just tell her already. What’s her name again? Jen… Jen…”

“Jenna.”

“Right. Jenna.”

Ben flopped onto his bed. Sounds easy enough. The hard part? He had no idea where to even begin. If he confessed out of nowhere, Jenna would definitely freak out. She might even think he was crazy. Worse—she could come at him with a broom. He couldn’t handle that. He’d rather keep his image of her as sweet and gentle.

A sudden push to his head snapped him out of his thoughts.

“All you do is daydream.” Beatrice plopped down beside him. “Come on, be a little braver. Even your own employees push you around.”

Ben scratched his head. True enough, he was a softie. Whenever his staff gave him their sad, pleading eyes, he caved instantly.

“I can’t wait to have a sister-in-law. If you’re this head over heels for Jenna, don’t waste time. If you wait too long, someone else might snatch her up.”

“What if she rejects me?”

“No girl would reject a good guy like you. If you’re sincere, Jenna will know.”

Ben still wasn’t sure.

HEAVY rain.

Ben let out a small sigh—he had forgotten to bring an umbrella. He preferred taking a taxi, but now he was stuck here since the driver he booked had canceled on him for some unknown reason. His eyes flicked toward the pedestrian bridge about 500 meters away. No way he’d make it there without getting drenched.

Leaning against the café’s front wall, he debated calling his sister’s driver but quickly dismissed the idea. The area was jam-packed with cars, and stopping at the roadside was nearly impossible. Only taxis were allowed here. Besides, he didn’t want to trouble Charlie, who was already busy driving Beatrice to an important meeting that afternoon.

"Guess I’ll just wait for the rain to stop."

As he glanced to the side, his eyes landed on a familiar figure. He stared for a moment—yes, it was Jenna. She stood under a shop corridor, waiting just like him.

Unconsciously, Ben smiled. Beatrice’s words from last night echoed in his head. Should he finally follow his sister’s advice? Should he confess to Jenna?

There had to be a reason for this downpour. A reason why he was stranded here. A reason why Jenna was here too.

Maybe… this was it. His chance. Today, he could finally tell Jenna how he felt.

But doubt gnawed at him. He had spent three years just watching her from afar, loving her in silence, yearning for her without her even knowing. The fear of rejection made his chest tighten.

Ben inhaled deeply. He lifted his backpack, placed it over his head as a shield, and stepped into the rain, walking toward Jenna. He didn’t know what he was going to say. He just wanted to be near her.

The closer he got, the harder his heart pounded. Blood rushed in his ears, his hands went ice-cold. The chilly weather wasn’t helping. He was shaking—whether from the cold or nervousness, he wasn’t sure.

A few steps away from Jenna, he stopped. His throat felt dry. She still hadn’t noticed him. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to move again.

Then—his faint smile disappeared.

A sharp cracking sound cut through the rain. Ben’s gaze darted around before he looked up. His eyes widened in horror. A large signboard above the shopfront was swaying dangerously, one of its metal supports had snapped.

Without thinking, Ben lunged forward, grabbing Jenna and pulling her into his arms. They crashed onto the wet pavement.

"Ah..."

Pain exploded through his body as something hard slammed against the back of his head and his spine. The world around him filled with panicked screams.

He forced his eyes open—Jenna’s face was inches from his, her expression frozen in shock and fear.

His vision swam. He felt something warm trickling down his forehead, running along his cheek, dripping onto the ground beside Jenna’s head.

His limbs felt heavy. Breathing became harder.

Then everything went dark.

JENNA sat down, then immediately got up again. She couldn't stay still, not while he was still in the treatment room. The metallic scent of his blood still clung to her hands and clothes. His backpack sat beside her, untouched. Her eyes never left the door.

"Jenna!"

That was the last thing she heard before everything turned tragic. He had saved her from getting crushed by a falling signboard—only to get badly injured himself.

"O god..." She shut her eyes, trying to steady her shaky breaths.

If something happened to that man, she would never forgive herself.

Jenna jumped to her feet as soon as a nurse stepped out of the room. "How is he?"

The nurse glanced at her. "Are you a family member?"

Jenna shook her head. "I don’t know him. He got hurt saving me."

The nurse nodded, pausing before speaking again. "His head injury is serious. The doctor is treating him now. He lost a lot of blood, but we’ve replaced it with a transfusion. You really don’t know him? Do you know how to contact his family?"

"I… I don’t know. Maybe he has an ID on him? I checked his bag, but there was nothing."

"I see," the nurse replied. "I'll check his clothes later. But don’t worry, he’s stable now. It's just..."

"Just what?"

The nurse hesitated.

Jenna’s chest tightened. "Does he have broken bones? Is he… going to be paralyzed?"

"No, nothing like that. No broken bones. But… we really need to speak with his family."

Jenna knew she couldn’t push the nurse for more answers. Maybe they would be able to contact his family soon.

"You should go home," the nurse suggested. "He’ll be in there for a while. And since you’re not family, you can’t go in. You look shaken up too. Accidents like this can be traumatizing. Go home, clean up, and get some rest. You need to calm yourself."

Jenna nodded numbly but how was she supposed to rest when she had no idea what was happening to him? How was she supposed to sleep peacefully when he was fighting for his life because of her?

"You’re so stupid, Jenna. You should’ve just stayed at the office. Now someone nearly died because of you."

She let out a shaky sigh. One last glance at the treatment room, then she turned to leave.

Her step halted when she accidentally knocked over his backpack. The zipper wasn’t fully closed, and some of the contents almost spilled out. She reached down to zip it up, but her hand froze when she saw a black folder inside.

Curiosity prickled at her. A paper was sticking out slightly.

Slowly, she pulled it out.

A drawing.

Her breath hitched.

It was a portrait of a woman.

Her.

Jenna’s heart pounded. She pulled out the folder and flipped through the papers inside.

Sketch after sketch.

Her face.

Rough pencil strokes, detailed shading—dozens of portraits of her.

Jenna sank back into the chair, stunned.

"It’s him. Ben."

She sat there, staring at the folder in her hands, trying to make sense of everything.

Slowly, she put the drawings back into the bag and zipped it up completely this time. Then, without thinking, she hugged the bag to her chest.

"Jenna, are you okay?"

She jolted at the sound of Latifa’s voice.

"You okay?" Latifa asked again.

Jenna nodded.

"You sure? What happened?"

Jenna looked at her friend for a long moment.

"I… I want to go home."

BEN'S backpack was still clutched in Jenna’s arms. His blood had stained her clothes. She sat in the living room, lost in thought, while Latifa and Sue tried to comfort her.

"He saved you? How is he now?"

Jenna shook her head.

"So… is he okay or not?" Sue asked.

"You should rest tonight. You must be shaken up. Go take a shower and get some sleep. Want me to stay with you?"

Jenna just shook her head and quietly walked to her room.

She sat at her desk, staring at the backpack. A silent debate raged in her mind—should she go through it or not? The portraits in the folder… they were of her. There was no way it was just a coincidence. It was her face, drawn by him.

After a few minutes of hesitation, she gave in. She unzipped the bag and emptied its contents onto the table. A black folder, a book that looked like a journal or diary, a few pencils and pens, a small container of candy, and a business card.

She picked up each item one by one, but her attention kept returning to the black folder. Slowly, she flipped through the portraits. Every angle of her face had been sketched. Some were close-ups, others captured her from the shoulders up. There was no doubt—it was her.

Then, she remembered another drawing.

Jenna reached for the portrait she had found a few days ago and placed it next to the ones in the folder. The technique, the strokes—they were identical.

And at the bottom of that particular drawing, there were words written in neat handwriting.

I love you, Jenna.

—Ben

She leaned back in her chair, stunned. The two drawings sat side by side on her desk. The same person. The same artist.

Jenna flipped through the other sketches. None of them had any words written on them. Only this one.

"So… he’s been watching me all this time? He knows where I go? Did he follow me all the way to… the accident site?"

Jenna glanced at the scattered drawings on her desk.

"Ben."

The man who had saved her—he was Ben. The mystery artist who had been sketching her all this time.

Her mind went blank. Everything from earlier that day still felt surreal. Without thinking, she got up and headed to the bathroom.

The hot water did little to clear her thoughts. Even after drying off and getting into bed, sleep wouldn’t come. Her mind kept circling back to one thing.

Who was Ben?

Judging by the sheer number of portraits, he had been watching her for a long time. But how long? Since when?

Jenna sat up suddenly, eyes landing on the journal she had yet to open.

"If he’s been following me all this time… then it’s only fair if I read what’s inside. He invaded my privacy… so I’ll invade his. That’s fair… right?"

She picked up the journal.

And then she started reading.

She didn’t stop until the early hours of the morning.

BEN tried to move his left fingers. Slowly, his hand curled into a weak fist. He felt drained. His eyelids twitched, heavy, resisting the effort to open.

A faint sound—like the wind—whispered in his ears. His body shivered slightly from the cold air surrounding him.

His eyes finally opened halfway. Blurry vision sharpened bit by bit. A plain ceiling greeted him. Ben turned his head left and right.

A room. Empty. He was alone.

He tried to sit up, but his body refused to cooperate. Even lifting his head felt impossible. His strength was completely gone.

Then he realized—he was lying on a bed. But where exactly was this place?

His right hand slowly reached up to touch his head. It was wrapped in bandages. A sharp sting pulsed at the left side of his skull. He was injured.

Ben let out a short breath, trying to remember what had happened. How did he end up here?

Nothing.

His mind was completely blank.

The sudden creak of a door broke the silence, snapping him out of his daze.

"Oh my god, Ben… you’re awake!"

Ben frowned, his gaze landing on the woman who had just entered. He stared at her, trying to place her face, but his mind drew a blank.

"Ben? Can you hear me?" The woman waved a hand in front of his face.

"Who… are you?" he echoed, uncertain.

Beatrice moved closer to the bed, studying his face. "Ben… it’s me, Beatrice. Your sister. Do you remember?"

Ben struggled to process her words.

"You don’t remember?" she asked again, her voice laced with worry.

Ben remained silent.

Beatrice exhaled shakily and leaned against the bed. Just as the doctor had warned—there was a chance he might suffer memory loss due to the brain trauma.

But maybe… maybe he hadn’t lost everything.

"Ben, do you remember your own name?"

Her brother didn’t respond. His expression remained lost, confused.

"Your name is Ben. And I’m Beatrice, your sister."

Ben didn’t react. He just sat there, quiet, as she explained everything, but nothing made sense to him. His mind was empty, a void where memories should have been.

None of her words stuck.

The only thing he knew at that moment—was fear.

And yet, he couldn’t even show it.

JENNA woke up to the sound of the dawn alarm. Blinking away the sleep, she sat up groggily. She had no idea what time she had dozed off.

She marked the page in Ben’s journal before closing it. With a sigh, she grabbed her towel and headed to the bathroom.

After almost ten minutes taking bath, Jenna sat on the bed, lost in thought. Her mind replayed everything she had read in the journal last night.

I’d be a fool to say I never want to be honest with Jenna. Who in this world wouldn’t want the person they love to know how they feel? I’m not afraid of rejection. Everyone has their own choices. If Jenna doesn’t choose me, I can accept that. If she belongs to someone else, I’ll accept that too.

But as far as I know, Jenna doesn’t have a boyfriend. I’ve been watching her, so I know who she meets and who her friends are. I even know her housemates. So, there’s no way she’s married. But now, I’m stuck. Jenna would definitely be scared if I suddenly showed up and confessed everything.

Be friends with her? I don’t think I can. What if I grow to love her even more, but she doesn’t feel anything for me? I’m afraid of being heartbroken. Heartbreak makes people irrational.

Jenna, if only you knew how much I miss you.

That was the last entry in the journal. The next page was completely blank.

Jenna exhaled heavily.

"Should I visit him? I wonder how he’s doing now… The nurse said he was stable yesterday."

She bit her lip.

"I have to see him. I have to thank him. But…"

Her gaze fell on Ben’s backpack.

If she went, she would have to face him. The man who had secretly loved her all this time.

What would she even say if he suddenly confessed?

"Ugh…"

There was no way she could pretend none of this had happened. This man had saved her life. If she didn’t at least show up, it would mean she was ungrateful. It would mean she didn’t appreciate what he had done for her.

"Oh god…"

Jenna ran her hands down her face, overwhelmed.

JENNA peeked through the small gap in the hospital room door. It was a private ward, and Ben was the only patient inside.

For the past ten minutes, she had been pacing back and forth outside, unsure of how to face him.

Just as she was about to gather her courage, the door suddenly opened. Startled, Jenna quickly stepped aside and hid in a small corner.

A man and a woman, both in their late thirties, walked out. Their expressions were heavy with worry, as if something bad had happened.

"What do we do now? He doesn’t remember anything at all," the woman with a long hair said, her voice filled with concern.

Jenna frowned. Doesn’t remember?

"The doctor said it’s only temporary. His memory might return gradually," the man replied, trying to sound hopeful.

Jenna leaned against the wall, listening closely.

"But the doctor also said they don’t know when he’ll remember. He doesn’t even know his own name. I’m scared… what if he never remembers anything?"

"Honey, don’t stress yourself. If you’re stressed, who’s going to take care of Ben? Let me handle the company. You just focus on looking after him until he recovers, okay?"

"And about the company… we’ve been planning to pass the management to him. We agreed to step back and just be a shareholders, to finally take a break."

"We’re still young, honey. I can help you. We’ll get through this together. I believe Ben will regain his memories."

Despite his reassurance, the woman still looked troubled.

Jenna hugged Ben’s backpack tightly. If what they said was true, then Ben wouldn’t remember anything—not the bag, not the portrait drawings inside, not even her.

There was no point in meeting him.

But there was something else she had to do.

Taking a deep breath, she glanced around before slowly making her way toward Ben’s room.

With a hesitant hand, she pushed the door open.

BEN looked at the girl from head to toe. Another unfamiliar face. Or more accurately, another face he couldn’t remember.

According to the doctor who treated him, the impact on his head had caused him to lose his memory.

“I’m sorry for bothering you,” the girl said. “I came today to say thank you. You saved me.”

Ben remained silent.

“If you hadn’t… maybe I’d be the one lying here instead of you,” she added, introducing herself as Jenna.

Ben crossed his arms, unsure of what to say.

“If you ever need anything…” Jenna handed him a small card. “This is my number. I’ll help however I can. Maybe… with your medical bills or something.”

She swallowed hard. Ben hadn’t said a word since she walked in.

“I—”

“No need.” Ben cut her off. “Just go. You don’t have to do anything.”

Jenna fell silent before nodding slowly. She was still clutching Ben’s backpack tightly, unsure whether to return it to him or not.

“Alright then. I’ll get going. Thank you... Ben.” She turned to leave.

“Wait.”

His voice stopped her in her tracks.

“I… saved you?”

Jenna turned back to face him. “Yes. You did.”

Ben stared at her for a moment before giving a small nod, then said nothing more.

Jenna hesitated for a few seconds before finally walking out.

Ben leaned back against the bed’s headboard. The doctor had said he needed rest, to stay calm so his memory could return gradually. His right hand touched the bandage on his head.

His mind was blank. If he had to describe it, everything was black and white.

And in the hazy grey between them, a face appeared—somewhere between blurred and clear.

Who?

JENNA stared at Ben’s backpack, lost in thought. In the end, she decided to just take it home. She had no idea how to explain it to Ben if he asked—especially when she herself still had so many unanswered questions.

Tired of thinking about it, she got up and left her room. In the living area, Latifa and Sue were chatting away while munching on snacks in front of the TV.

“So, you’re just gonna keep quiet about it? Are you sure he doesn’t remember anything at all?” Latifa asked after Jenna told them a bit about Ben’s condition.

“His head injury was really bad, Latifa. He lost a lot of blood—so much that the doctors had to give him a transfusion. That signboard was huge, and heavy too. I don’t even want to imagine what would’ve happened if the impact had hit…”

“Hey, don’t say that! I don’t wanna imagine anything bad happening to my friends,” Sue cut in, shaking her head.

“Accidents can happen to anyone, Sue. If it weren’t for that guy, Jenna would be the one in the hospital right now,” Latifa pointed out.

Sue still shook her head.

“For now, I’ll just wait. I’ll check on him from a distance. Once the doctor says he’s stable enough to be discharged, then I’ll finally feel relieved,” Jenna said.

“But it’s kinda sad, isn’t it?” Latifa frowned. “He got hurt just to save you. What if his family finds out why he got injured? Won’t they blame you?”

Jenna fell silent at that. She hadn’t even thought about it. For the past three days, all she had focused on was Ben’s condition. She never once considered how his family might be feeling—how devastated they must be.

“Of course they’d be sad. Who wouldn’t be if their loved one got into an accident? But what’s done is done, and they have to accept it,” Sue said. “Besides, it’s not like Jenna asked him to save her. He did it willingly. No one forced him.”

Latifa nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, so don’t go blaming yourself, okay? He made his own decision. He chose to save you, even if it meant getting hurt,” Sue added.

Jenna remained quiet.

Her housemates had no idea about the file containing Ben’s drawings. She had no intention of telling them either. If they found out, they’d only bombard her with even more questions. Right now, she needed to clear her head before figuring out her next move.

"JENNA?"

Beatrice nodded.

"The girl Ben..."

"Yeah, that Jenna. The nurse said she’s been to the hospital three times but never went in. She just watched Ben from a distance," Beatrice explained.

"So that means Jenna already knows Ben likes her?" Wesley asked.

"I'm not sure about that. But what surprised me was when the nurse said she’s the one Ben saved that day."

Wesley raised an eyebrow. "So, Ben got hurt because he saved her?"

"Pretty much. And now, here we are. Ben saved the girl he loves, but he doesn’t remember anything about her or what happened. Meanwhile, Jenna keeps coming here but won’t go in to see him. Ugh, what a mess."

Wesley thought for a moment. "It’s not that complicated. It’s just Ben who doesn’t remember."

"That’s exactly the problem! If he doesn’t remember, that makes things difficult."

"What’s so difficult? Next time Jenna comes, we take her to see Ben. We tell them everything right in front of them. Problem solved."

"Solved? What if Jenna runs off and Ben is still just as confused? How is that solving anything?"

"Okay, okay, calm down. Let’s ask Ben first—does he really not remember anything? Not even who was there when he got injured?"

"And if he doesn’t?"

"Then we just let things be. What else can we do?"

Beatrice let out a heavy sigh. She and Wesley froze when Ben suddenly appeared behind them. Who knows how long he had been standing there?

Beatrice quickly approached him. "Ben, do you need anything? Want me to buy you something to eat?"

Ben simply shook his head and walked back into his room. Beatrice and Wesley exchanged glances before following him inside.

Ben was already sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard.

Beatrice stepped closer. "Ben, I just want to ask—"

"No." Ben cut her off. "I don’t remember. I don’t know what happened." He looked up at her. "I got injured. That’s all."

Beatrice fell silent. "Just get some rest," she said softly.

"Do you really not know what actually happened?"

Again, Beatrice and Wesley exchanged glances.

Wesley stepped closer to the bed, standing on Ben’s left. "We only know what the police and hospital told us. You were brought here in an ambulance and…"

Ben looked at him when he suddenly stopped talking. "And?"

"When we arrived, there was no one there. The witnesses had already left. That night, your sister and I were out of town for work."

Ben nodded. "It’s fine. I understand." Then, he fell silent again.

"Don’t think too much. Just rest," Wesley told him.

As before, Ben said nothing.