A Piece of Your Heart

“Ah, yes. My name is Nathaniel, by the way,” the man told me with a small, uncertain smile. “I apologize. I meant to introduce myself to you sooner, but I was too nervous to approach you first. I’m sorry that we had to meet again like this.”

‘Again’?

My interest was instantly piqued. It didn’t seem like he was lying, and he seemed more of a socially awkward person than a cunning pervert.

At least, that was what I thought. I wasn’t good at reading people, but I thought that he deserved a chance to be heard.

“So… you say that I know you from before?” I asked.

“Not exactly. When we first met, it was at Central Park. I don’t think you remember it since it was a brief and mundane interaction,” Nathaniel said. “It happened three months ago, I think.”

Three months ago?

I struggled to recall what I had been doing during that time.

There wasn’t any memory that stood out to me in particular since I had always been following a daily routine. I would wake up, eat breakfast, go to work, eat lunch, go back to work until late at night, eat a quick dinner, do whatever I wanted with the limited time left, and then go to sleep.

I hardly went shopping since it was expensive. The only times I spent money were on groceries, my brother’s tuition fees, my parents’ medical bills, and gifts for special occasions. Money was so tight that I couldn’t even try having too much leisure time.

Every time I did my hobbies, I would feel guilty for not being productive, for wasting time when I could’ve done something else to help with our finances.

This was the life that I had been living for years, and I grew used to it. But this year was the last one for working hard since it was my brother’s last year in med school, so I kept on assuring myself silently that after all this, I could finally start setting goals for myself.

Of course, I would still help with my parents’ medical bills and my younger sister’s tuition as well, but at least I would finally have my brother helping me out. He knew what I had been going through and swore to me many times that he would work hard to earn money during his first year of residency.

I felt grateful for it. I knew that being a doctor was difficult, that it came with a bundle of stress and nerves and a gigantic responsibility on one’s shoulders. After all, they were in charge of their patients’ lives. One wrong move, and they would be in deep trouble. Lawsuits, revenge, blacklists… the results would not be pretty.

But I had faith in my brother’s abilities. He wasn’t at the top of his class for nothing. He was level-headed and intelligent, and I knew that he was more than capable of becoming the great doctor that he had always dreamed of becoming.

One of his reasons for wanting to become a doctor was so he could also take proper care of our parents. He was a sweet, considerate kid who worked hard. This was also why I would never regret sacrificing some years of my life working hard to support him both emotionally and financially.

My routine was simply like that. I worked most of the time. I didn’t hang out at any place all the time, just on occasion.

Perhaps Nathaniel simply mistook me for someone else?

“At that time,” Nathaniel said, having noticed my thoughtful silence, “I had recently gotten out of the hospital. I was instructed not to work for a while and to rest. I had to do less strenuous things. So I went to the park for a walk, to get some fresh air and to clear my mind. That was when I first saw you.”Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

The park?

I felt a flash of recognition in my mind.

Come to think of it, I would sometimes go to the park near my apartment just to unwind during the early mornings when I didn’t have to work. I only went there occasionally though.

“You were drawing on your sketchbook at that time,” Nathaniel continued on. “You were sitting on a bench nearby when I approached. I had anemia, so I felt dizzy somewhat.”

He sounded a little embarrassed when he said this.

“I was clumsy, so I tripped over my own feet and fell to the ground. You saw me, helped me up, and had me sit down on the bench.” He gazed at me almost expectantly. “Do you… remember?”

I tried to. The memory was fuzzy, but after a few moments, I could recall bits and pieces. It was rare for me to go to the park, so it wasn’t completely impossible for me to remember.

I remembered a man dressed in casual clothing. Blue jeans, a green hat, and a white shirt with long swords in the position of a cross and wings wrapped around them as a design on the front.

I remembered this particular detail because the design stood out to me when I first laid eyes on him. It looked like the drawing of a professional artist with all the details. Being a hobby artist myself, I was fascinated.

I did remember him falling down. I was shocked at first when I lifted my head and saw him losing his balance. I ran over to him and helped him up from the ground, leading him towards the bench that I was sitting on.

The memory ended there. I could vaguely recall leaving, but I couldn’t remember why I left so suddenly. All I knew was that I needed to go right away.

“Now that I think about it, I do,” I told him. “You’re the one with the white shirt. The one with the sword and wings design. Right?”

Nathaniel’s face visibly brightened. “Yes! I did wear that shirt that day.”

I started to relax a little. He wasn’t lying, after all. It was honestly a relief to know.

“I remember the design because I really liked how it looked, despite having only glanced at it quickly a few times,” I said.

“You liked it?” Nathaniel looked a little surprised.

“Is it that surprising?”

“No, it’s just that… women don’t usually like those kinds of designs.”

“I like anything that has a great art style to my liking. I draw sometimes, so I get fascinated easily by intricate designs.”

“Ah, right. Would you like it back?” Nathaniel suddenly asked.

I was in the middle of opening my cup noodles when his words made me pause. “Would I want what back?” I asked, puzzled.

Nathaniel looked at me a little oddly, confusion shining in his eyes. “Your sketchbook, remember? You forgot it on the bench that day when you suddenly got that phone call. You left the park in a hurry.”

“Oh. I… I didn’t remember that part,” I admitted sheepishly, my mind suddenly clouding over in surprise. “But… my sketchbook? You have it with you?”

No wonder I couldn’t find it at home! I checked every corner of the house for it and almost went crazy searching.

It turned out that I had accidentally left it at the park because I was in such a hurry…

My heart sank as the realization came over me eventually.

I wonder if he saw the drawings there?

I wish he didn’t.