Please Forget Me - Chapter 150
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
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“Back when you were treating and caring for the soldiers through all the hardships, you believed it was a meaningful sacrifice, and since you believed that, I endured as well…”
I had truly been a field hospital nurse. Meeting Johann there was the truth. It was rare for Johann to talk about the old me without me asking. Like a puppy finally opening up to someone and then pulling back when that person reaches out, I felt that if I tried to speak, I’d only be met with silence.
So, I just listened, avoiding eye contact and remaining still.
“This isn’t a meaningful sacrifice.”
But the story of the past ended too quickly. As another dangerous conversation began, I lifted my head and locked eyes with him, demanding an answer.
“Why isn’t it meaningful? I endured to protect us. So, please, don’t make all the time I’ve spent enduring meaningless with reckless actions.”
“You didn’t have to endure.”
A flash of anger crossed Johann’s eyes once again. It hadn’t dulled over time—it had become sharper. He still hadn’t let go of the desire to kill the Major.
“Johann, God knows your thoughts. Murder is something that can never be forgiven. You don’t want to suffer in Hell forever, do you?”
“I’m already stepping into Hell, Rize.”
I mentioned God because that was something that would usually affect Johann the most, but he didn’t waver at all.
“If he dies now, everyone will know you’re the one who did it.”
“That’s true.”
“If that happens, you’ll be dragged to the front lines. It’ll be like you’re falling straight into Hell, not just stepping into it.”
“That could be the case.”
“Johann, I want to hear you say that you won’t do it.”
Throughout our dangerous exchange, Johann had been staring at the window as the evening light poured in. But at that moment, his gaze turned to me. He gazed at me with intensity, then pressed his lips to my forehead as he replied,
“I won’t do it.”
“Really?”
“I promise.”
“Swear it to God?”
“I swear to God I won’t kill him. Now, let’s sleep and think of a way together when we wake up.”
Johann removed his lips from mine, turned his head, and buried it deeply into the pillow, using the back of his hand to shield his eyes. It was a posture he often took when tired, but I didn’t believe he would fall asleep like this.
‘It’s just a lie to make me feel better.’
Johann’s lies were always clumsy with me. Every time he swore on God, it was always the truth, but now, knowing that he was prepared to commit an act that God forbade, I couldn’t believe he would swear falsely, even on God.
He must have said it to make me feel at ease, but now wasn’t the time for that. Would lying to me and doing exactly what I begged him not to really ease my mind?
“Rize?”
I intertwined my fingers with his over his eye.I pulled out a ball of yarn from the basket beneath the bed. Wrapping it tightly around our hands, I tied us together.
“You’re not the worst husband in the world. But if you leave me alone, then you will become the worst husband ever in this world.”
I tried to sound stern, but sniffling through my words only made me sound pitiful.
“Rize…”
“Don’t leave me alone, sniff, promise me.”
“I promise.”
Through the tears clinging to his lashes, I saw a determined glint in his eyes. This promise, at least, seemed genuine.
Johann is weaker to my tears than to his faith. With that thought, I finally felt relieved enough to lean into his arms. Still, I didn’t untie our hands, and Johann awkwardly wiped my tears away with his bound hand.
“Don’t worry.”
He cradled me in one arm and patted my back with the other.
“I’ll always stay by your side.”
“And I’ll always stay by yours…”
What an exhausting day. As the tension drained away, overwhelming fatigue hit me all at once.
* * *
Johann Renner. Liar.
Breaking your promise the very moment you make it?
When I woke up in pitch-black darkness, I was alone. The yarn that had bound our hands had been cut, and Johann was nowhere to be found. The revolver was gone too. On the table where the gun had been, a lonely note remained: Don’t go out. Wait at home.
“No.”
I dashed downstairs and pounded on a door.
“Mrs. Becker!”
Facing her was uncomfortable, but now was not the time to worry about that. A moment later, she opened the door, her expression cold as always. I urgently asked,
“Did you see Johann leave? When? Where did he go?”
It was as if she’d been recording our every move because her response was oddly precise. Johann had stopped a passing military truck after roll call, exchanged a few words with the driver, and then climbed aboard. He had headed toward the forest—the direction of the bunker.
He went to kill the major.
The world turned black, and I felt like I was going to faint, but I couldn’t afford to. It had already been over three hours; it might be too late, but maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t.
I had to stop him. Gripping railings and fences for support, I dragged my trembling legs toward the last house at the edge of the alley.
“Rize?”
The elderly man who answered my desperate call late at night looked at me, wide-eyed.
“W-What happened? Was there trouble?”
He must have thought something terrible had happened to me, judging by my crumpled clothes and disheveled hair.
