"Come on, Stephie," Steven grabbed my wrist as I attempted to leave.
Before Joel, who was outside the door, could enter the house, Steven kicked the door shut, trapping Joel outside.
Startled by his frustration, I asked in puzzlement, "What do you want— "
"I want to lock you up… in the basement, where I'll be the only one knowing of your existence," Steven's voice was hoarse as if suppressing his emotions.
He pressed me against the corner, enveloping me with a pressuring demeanor.
I had never seen him like this before; and honestly, I was rather scared by his current behavior.
It reminded me of what Mom wrote in her log, how Steven had imprisoned Stephanie in the basement and abused her.
"Y-You're not serious, are you?" I asked shakily.
Steven pulled me into his arms, sighing softly.
"Stephie… I just want you to live a normal life, with friends like Rachel, and a normal… husband and children. Spending the rest of your life happily, safely, without worries."
"I'll give you that regardless of the price to pay… " Steven added softly.
Perhaps this was Steven's biggest wish.
My heart inexplicably raced as I listened, leaning against his chest and feeling his heartbeat beneath. For some reason, I had a bad feeling.
Something inside me whispered that Steven himself wasn't included in that wish, as if he had always seen himself as a monster, outside the realm of being a "normal husband".
Did this mean that he would eventually let go of me? Or perhaps, he had another life planned?
Feeling an inexplicable surge of anxiety, I instinctively clutched Steven's shirt and asked, "You still don't believe that I'm Stephanie Carlson, do you? Must I recite the pi thing to prove it?"
Steven ruffled my hair without answering. Though it was just a simple gesture of comfort, it managed to ease my emotions nonetheless.
"She lacks emotions. Do you truly believe she can comprehend love after losing her memories?"
In a haze, I overheard someone conversing with Steven.
"Her feelings toward Michael don't seem like love either; it seems more like a meticulously planned scheme to destroy Michael in the cruelest manner possible…"
It was as though Michael had pulled the trigger, but the bullet had rebounded and struck him squarely between the eyebrows — and Stephanie was the architect.
"She doesn't love me… " Steven's voice sounded somewhat hoarse.
Given his intelligence, how could he possibly be unaware of whether it was love or not?
"She's still searching for the sensation of love… obstinately yearning to love," Steven said softly.
"Which is a good thing. Then, in the future… if something were to happen to me, she could accept it calmly too."
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