“Then, the first time you saw me… did I seem familiar?” Leland Burns kept his expression calm, but beneath the surface, he was testing the waters. Facing Winifred Dawson’s amnesia, he both wanted her to remember something and feared what she might recall.
If Winifred Dawson remembered the past, she would only run from him.
But when he thought about it, there was no real difference. Whether before or after losing her memories, Winifred Dawson had always tried to avoid him.
Yet if she hadn’t lost her memories, he might not have been so soft on her. He wouldn’t have hesitated, struggling to find the right way to interact with her.
He still wanted Winifred Dawson to have some impression of him-proof that she had once cared, even if only for a few seconds. At least then, he could believe he had existed in her world.
Winifred Dawson did feel a strange sense of familiarity with Leland Burns-not just with him, but with his face, his voice, the meals he cooked, even his habits. It was as if she had known him long ago.
But she refused to acknowledge this feeling. Admitting it would imply some intimate connection between them, and she didn’t like that.
Besides, Leland Burns himself had admitted they’d never met before. Garrison Reeves had also confirmed she didn’t know him. So why should she feel this way?
“No, you don’t look familiar. I don’t know you.” Winifred Dawson kept her face stern, avoiding even a glance at Wesley.
Leland Burns knew he shouldn’t have asked. He had set himself up for disappointment.
Winifred Dawson didn’t remember him. She felt familiarity with Wesley but remained distant with him. Did that mean, deep down, she considered him unimportant? Or was he the one person she wanted to forget completely, leaving no trace of him in her mind?
His heart ached, the warmth inside it suddenly gripped by an icy hand.
Leland Burns exhaled sharply, tightening his hold on Winifred Dawson’s hand. “Well, you look very familiar to me.”
Anyone could tell he was upset.
What now? Had she said something wrong? Winifred Dawson genuinely believed that dealing with a CEO like Leland Burns was exhausting-his moods shifted faster than a chameleon’s colors. No wonder people around him suffered.
Leland Burns was angry at her. The frustration rose abruptly, settling heavily in his chest until it hurt.
“Let’s go inside.”
“Okay.” Only then did Winifred Dawson focus on the house. It was one of several properties Leland Burns had considered before settling on this one-a deliberate attempt to please her.
He knew she loved spacious homes. She had once said she wanted to live in a big, open place with a garden, a swing, and a rose garden. Since she was allergic to roses, he had chosen other flowers instead. A wisteria trellis stood lush and green, swaying gently in the breeze beneath the bright sun.
This was the kind of “home” Winifred Dawson had always loved.
Leland Burns had used every method imaginable on her, but when it came to making her happy, he spared no effort. He remembered everything she liked, every word she’d ever said, and even her dislikes.
When you knew someone that well, you could control their emotions.
If he was in a good mood, he gave her what she loved. If not, he gave her what she hated.
This house was his careful selection-large, designed in a rustic style, fulfilling almost all of Winifred Dawson’s preferences, except for the missing swing.
The garden bloomed with flowers. It was the season for crabapple blossoms and chrysanthemums, both of which filled the yard. The wisteria trellis stretched lush and vibrant.
Winifred Dawson took one look and immediately liked it. The place felt warm and inviting-unexpected for Bankshire.
It was a bit remote, but the area was dotted with farm stays and recreational spots. On holidays, crowds flocked here. Still, it couldn’t compare to the convenience of the city.
“Do you like it here?”
“It’s… alright.” Winifred Dawson didn’t understand why he was asking. It almost felt like he had prepared this place specifically for her.
Alright? Yes, it was alright-but it couldn’t compare to Autumn Joy Estate. To Leland Burns, this place was still too small. He wondered if Winifred Dawson, even with her amnesia, would fall in love with Autumn Joy Estate at first sight.
As Winifred Dawson followed Leland Burns inside, she grew nervous at the thought of meeting his two children.
The moment she stepped into the courtyard, she heard movement inside. Two children came running out, their little feet pattering against the ground. Winifred Dawson didn’t know how to describe them except as adorable-round, soft, like two bouncing dumplings, their faces full of energy.
They looked like the lucky children from New Year paintings, so charming that even someone who usually kept her distance from kids couldn’t help but stare, feeling the urge to play with them.
The two ignored their father, staring straight at her instead. Their dark eyes, so much like Leland Burns’, sparkled with excitement, as if they had just spotted their favorite toy or snack.
They stopped in front of her, holding hands and standing properly, their chubby faces tilting up. “Hello, pretty sister! Welcome!” Their voices trembled slightly with nervousness.
Sister? Winifred Dawson froze. At thirty, she was old enough to be their mother-a proper auntie. Yet these kids were calling her “sister”?
Still, she couldn’t deny it felt good. It was like being complimented on her youth and beauty. Instantly, she liked them more. If she had known Leland Burns’ children would be this cute, she would’ve brought gifts-maybe lollipops.
Now she understood: children and adults were separate. They didn’t necessarily inherit their father’s personality.
She shouldn’t project her biases against Leland Burns onto them. No matter how deep their conflicts were, she couldn’t drag innocent bystanders into it.
Winifred Dawson reminded herself of this as she smiled, studying the two. They were dressed formally, in little vests and suits, their shirts adorned with neckties. One of them had a crooked bowtie.
She crouched down to adjust Wayne Burns’ tie. “Hello there. I’m Aunt Winifred, the one taking care of you. Not ‘sister’-auntie, okay?” She wasn’t shameless enough to let four-year-olds call her “sister.”
Wayne Burns said, “But you’re so pretty! Pretty ones are sisters.”
“That won’t do. Call me auntie. At my age, I could be your mom. If people heard you calling me ‘sister,’ they’d laugh.”
Beside them, Leland Burns’ face darkened, his eyes nearly spitting fire. His lips pressed into a thin line.
For the first time, he felt the urge to smack Wayne Burns.
Calling him “Dad” but Winifred Dawson “sister”? That messed up the family hierarchy. Worse, it made him seem old.
He couldn’t help cutting in, “Don’t call her ‘sister.’ Call her ‘auntie.'”
“Okay…” Wayne Burns had wanted to tell Winifred Dawson, If you think you’re old enough to be our mom, then just be our mom! But his father had interrupted.
His dad really didn’t know how to make Mom happy. Standing there like an ice block, who would want to be around him? Getting him to smile was impossible-forget about sweet words.
Wayne Burns had been doing so well, but now his dad had ruined the moment. No wonder Mom didn’t remember him. Served him right for being single.
Wayne Burns sighed inwardly, then turned his attention back to Winifred Dawson. This was the first time he’d been so close to his mom. She fixed his tie, spoke to him, smiled at him, touched his face. She smelled so nice. He loved her so much. He hoped she wouldn’t leave this time-that she’d stay with him and his brother forever.
Thinking about it, his eyes grew red.
Winifred Dawson noticed and assumed Leland Burns’ harsh tone had scared him.
She gently stroked Wayne Burns’ soft hair. “Why are your eyes red? Did your dad’s tone frighten you?”