Late at night, Daniella Rowe brought Tate Rowe to my doorstep and handed me the hospital diagnosis. "My brother was in a coma for thirty days after being hit. When he woke up, he realized he had lost most of his memory, and his intelligence had regressed to the level of an eight-year-old."
I was shocked. "Why are you coming to me? It wasn't me!"
Daniella replied, "My brother was hit right below your apartment."
Me: "..."
I said, "That still doesn't prove it was me!"
Daniella continued, "He must have had a reason for coming to see you. Maybe he wanted to get back together or something."
I calmed down.
"That's impossible."
Tate is an emotionally distant person. Although we were supposedly in a relationship for over a year, it was actually no different from being just regular friends. He never initiated any closeness; things like kissing or hugging, which couples typically do, were rare between us.
A few months ago, I cried and said, "You don't really care about me at all. You don't even know when my birthday is. You were hospitalized with pneumonia for half a month, and I only found out through your friend. I don't even understand why you need a girlfriend."
At that time, Tate frowned at me, seemingly unable to understand why I was making such a big deal and suddenly losing my temper.
In that moment, I felt I was being overly dramatic, so I wiped my tears and said, "I don't like you anymore. Let's break up."
Tate didn't say a single word to try to keep me.
How could someone like that possibly want to get back together with me?
"The doctor said there's a large blood clot in his brain, and it's affecting his brain function. Once the clot dissipates, he might return to normal. During this time, it's best to have things or people that can stimulate his senses to speed up the process," Daniella said. "I thought of you, after all, you were the last person he wanted to see before he fell into the coma."
"Uh, maybe he was just passing by."
"No matter what, you two were in a relationship. Don't you want him to get better?"
I hesitated and said, "Uh...of course I want that, but..."
His sister took out a card. "There's a hundred thousand in here. Take good care of him, and the money is yours after two months."
I took the card. "Alright."
Daniella smiled, handed me the suitcase, and nudged him closer to me. "It has some of his daily necessities and a change of clothes. If you need anything else, just let me know, everything is reimbursable."
I looked at Tate's calm face and nodded.
……
With the door closed, it was just me and my ex-boyfriend, who now had the intelligence of an eight-year-old, left in the room.
I stared at him for a while, but Tate didn't react at all.
Is this what happens when your brain is damaged? He looks pretty normal though.
I tentatively asked, "Do you know who I am?"
"A servant."
Damn.
"No, I'm your master."
He clearly hesitated. "Master?"
"That means from now on, you have to listen to me, serve me, and do whatever I tell you to do."
He pressed his lips together, seeming a bit reluctant to accept that.
I patted his shoulder to comfort him. "Don't worry, I won't bully you."
He smiled slightly. "Okay."
So easy to fool.
I pulled out an old pillow and a thin blanket, tossing them onto the couch. "You can sleep here."
He looked at the narrow couch but didn't object.
I had just gotten back into bed when there was a knock on the door.
Tate was standing at the doorway. "I need to take a bath."
I replied impatiently, "Not tonight."
"Sis said I have to bathe every day, or else I'll smell."
"Then smell if you want, you're sleeping alone anyway."
He stared at me stubbornly.
Fine.
I opened the bathroom door. "Go ahead, take your bath."
He looked at me and started taking off his clothes.
I stayed calm when he took off his T-shirt.
I was still calm when he took off his pants.
But when he started taking off his underwear... I couldn't stay calm anymore. Covering my eyes, I ran back to my room, scolding him as I went, "Don't strip naked in front of girls next time!"
I shut the door and left him to his own devices.
