Chapter 517

I furrowed my brows and looked around, but I didn’t have any impression. As Anton said, my favorite food to eat was spaghetti.

So none of us ordered, and the landlady brought over a bowl of spaghetti and a bowl of risotto directly. “Esmeralda, you liked tomato sauce, so I put extra for you. Enjoy it,” the boss lady smiled kindly at me, and I quickly smiled back and nodded at her.

The landlady looked at Anton again and sighed, “Oh, I can’t believe after so many years I still get to see you two come back together. Are you two together now?”

I didn’t make a sound.

Anton said, “Auntie, help me get two bottles of juice.”

“Ah!” The boss lady replied warmly and quickly brought over two bottles of juice. She helped us open the lid and said, “I remember there was a Reynaldo, that child was so strange, he liked to eat tortillas, but always came to pack spaghetti.”

I was stunned for a moment, vaguely recalling something, but the images flashing through my mind were always too jumbled and chaotic for me to see anything clearly.

Anton saw me holding my head in distress and couldn’t help but say to the landlady, “We just came back to take a look. You go ahead and get busy.”

“Ah, okay.”

After the boss lady left, Anton handed me a glass of water and asked anxiously, “Esmeralda, are you okay?”

I drank some water and took a slight pause before saying to him, “It’s nothing, just a slight headache.”

Anton pursed his lips, and after a moment of silence, he said, “If you really can’t remember, then just forget about it.”

I lifted my head and saw his slightly turned profile, with a faint touch of sadness and loss.

After finishing the noodles, Anton took me to the outskirts. Some fields and ponds remained the same as before. I even remember that stretch of reeds. In the summer, my grandmother even took me to the reed marsh to pull reeds. They said it could kill mosquitoes and insects.

But why do I remember the countryside ponds and fields, remember the reed marshes, but just don’t remember Anton and Reynaldo? It can now be almost certain that I stayed with my grandmother that year and then met them. But why did I just forget them again? What exactly happened among them?

I saw a familiar hillside, where my grandmother used to take me to graze the cows. The grass there was the lushest. Grandma’s little white dog would often follow along, rolling around contentedly in the grass. Looking at the familiar scene in front of me, all that flashed through my mind were memories of the past with my grandmother. But why is it just without them? Past memories fluttered in my mind, unresolved doubts lingered in my heart, eventually woven into an irritable web.

I lowered my head and pressed my eyebrows, feeling uncomfortable.

Anton glanced at me and then slowly stopped the car. He looked at me sadly and said, “Is that memory so painful for you? Do you have to forget it so completely that even remembering it is so painful?”

“No,” I shook my head, breathing heavily in discomfort.

Anton rolled down the car window and murmured, “Don’t worry, after we visit my father’s grave, I will take you back.”

He finished speaking and then started the car. The cold wind from the suburbs poured into the car, making my head a little clearer, but those forgotten things still couldn’t be remembered at all.

The car slowly drove into a narrow path.