My Pretty Sweetheart (Arianna)
Chapter 1914

The sound of her high-heels left me petrified. By the time I came to my senses, the woman had wrapped me in her arms.

"Arianna, it's really you! I thought Cyril had mistaken you for somebody else!"

I had no idea what was going on at all, and I was held motionlessly by her. After a long time, I asked hesitantly, "I'm sorry, Miss. You..." "You don't have to be so courteous, I'm Freya!"

Freya let go of me and sized me up, and her eyes reddened in an instant. "You've lost so much weight that I could hardly recognize you!"

After being in a coma for six years, the drastic change in my appearance came as no surprise. Moreover, the lack of rest the night before further contributed to my sallow complexion.

Although I had been staring at her for quite a while, I still couldn't recall who she was or if we were acquainted in any way. "You're Freya?"

"Yes, that's me, Freya Moore..." As she spoke, her voice gradually softened. Soon, she was unconsciously choked up in tears.

The carefree-looking woman suddenly lowered her head as she wiped her tears away.

Following that, she simply did not hide her urge to whine. Her voice was full of indignation.

"Why didn't you look for me when you came back? Do you know how hard it was for us to find you?"

"Freya."

The fully-armed man followed her in. Seeing this, he put his hand on the woman's shoulder and comforted her softly.

It wasn't until he took off his hat and showed his face that I recognized him. He was Cyril Zimmer, whom I had met in the restaurant that day.

The two of them were together,

which meant that Miss Moore also

knew me. However, I couldn't recall anything at all. She was crying so bitterly at the moment, and I didn't even know if I should console her. "Miss Moore, please calm down."

The phrase "Miss Moore" seemed to have dishearten Freya even more. "Who are you calling? Do you think you can forget about us after disappearing for six whole years?"

Men only wept when they were deeply hurt. Though Freya did not look like a pretentious woman, she was crying pitifully and her makeup was half gone.

I had no choice but to invite them into the house first.

Freya went to the bathroom to touch up her ruined makeup. When she came out again, she looked very collected.

The servants brought some hot tea over. I ordered them to leave and personally poured tea into Freya and Cyril's cups.

Freya sat on the sofa, staring at me without blinking, as if I would disappear in the blink of an eye.

I was embarrassed by her burning, unshifting gaze. The only response I could offer was an apologetic smile. I slowly passed the tea to her "How have you been in the last few years?"

Freya took the glass and placed it on the table. She nodded and asked me, "What about you? Why did you change so much?"

I was amused by her anxious expression. "Well, I just feel like I've slept for a long time. When I woke up, things were already like this, and..."

"I understand. It doesn't matter even

if you don't remember. There's still half a lifetime left for you. You just need to live your life to the fullest in the future." Freya's tone was full of compassion and tolerance

Cyril must have told her that I had lost my memories. It seemed that the news of me being alive was already a great amazement.

Her expression and actions convinced me that we were the best of friends who loved each other from the bottom of our hearts in the past.

I had thought that I could regain some old memories from Freya, but things didn't always go as expected.

Freya inquired in detail about what happened after I woke up.