Oleander stared at her.
Her expression remained calm, almost clinical.
He couldn’t help letting out another breath through his nose.
For once, he was the one who felt childish.
Jasmine had lost her memories. Of course she would casually reject him. Whatever relationship they’d once had had been wiped clean on her side. Right now, they were practically strangers.
He looked at her properly.
She used to love him so deeply that sometimes he’d wondered whether he’d ever truly understood the weight of it.
Now she looked at him like he was a complicated equation.
Still, if she could forget him once, perhaps he could make her fall for him again.
"You met that kid?" he asked.
Jasmine nodded.
"Do you know who he was?"
"I suspected it was you."
Oleander’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"What did you do after you pulled him out of the water?"
"He was hungry, so I gave him an apple."
Oleander’s lips curved faintly.
So that’s why it tasted like an apple.
"And then?"
"He ran away, and I couldn’t catch him. There was a boundary because I’m still E-Rank."
Oleander turned fully toward her.
"Jasmine, you did something Rosalie could never do, even though her compatibility with me was also eighty-six percent."
He paused. His gaze lingered on her face.
"That kiss..." His voice dropped slightly. "It was the sweetest kiss I’ve ever had."
Jasmine blinked.
"Did you feel the same way?" He asked softly.
She frowned.
She wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by feel the same way. If he was asking whether she’d tasted the same flavor, then yes.
So she nodded.
Oleander stepped closer.
"And you don’t kiss someone like that and then call it nothing more than guiding."
Jasmine’s brows pulled together.
Oleander held her gaze.
"I know you lost your memories, but deep down, you still love me." He stated.
The word love sent a strange shiver down Jasmine’s entire body.
She didn’t know what love was.
She knew romance only as a concept she’d once heard in theory—the relationship between men and women that eventually led to the high-stakes process of reproduction.
Love had always been an abstract thing other people talked about.
Something she had never had the luxury of understanding.
And now Oleander was standing in front of her, looking at her as though the answer were already obvious.
Jasmine’s stomach twisted uneasily.
What exactly is love supposed to feel like?
"Wait..."
Jasmine raised one hand, palm facing Oleander as though she needed him to pause the conversation before her brain could process the next variable.
"Are you saying that when Rosalie was still alive, I loved you?"
Oleander nodded cautiously.
Jasmine frowned.
"By love, do you mean I wanted to have babies with you?"
Oleander’s face turned bright red.
For a moment, he genuinely wondered whether losing her memories had somehow taken her common sense with them.
"Wh—what? Jasmine, that’s..." He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He had no idea which part of that sentence he was supposed to correct first.
Jasmine frowned harder.
She hadn’t concentrated this intensely since she’d had to figure out how to feed a zombie dog with six mouths without losing a finger.
"Based on the way Tansy spoke about me, she said I wanted to take you away from Rosalie." Jasmine’s expression remained completely serious. "Was I really that kind of woman? Someone who would try to take something that belonged to someone else?"
The question sounded almost detached, as though she were asking him to assess the behavior of a stranger.
That somehow made it harder for Oleander to answer.
Because whatever he said, one fact remained.
His cowardice had helped create the mess that destroyed Jasmine’s reputation.
He had stayed silent when he should have spoken. He had protected his family’s name, worried about his father’s approval, and let his own status dictate decisions that had eventually left Jasmine carrying the blame.
And now she remembered none of it.
Part of him had thought her amnesia might be a blessing.
At least she no longer remembered the man who had hurt her.
He’d even allowed himself to believe that starting from zero meant he could make her stay beside him again.
But now, when the first real opportunity had finally appeared—an eighty-six percent compatibility that should have given them a reason to be together—Jasmine had calmly decided to find another Sentinel.
Oleander swallowed.
"No. You’re not that kind of woman. Not even close."
His voice softened.
"Can’t you just establish the contract with me? I promise I’ll protect you."
Jasmine sighed.
His answer was clear enough. Yet something still didn’t add up.
Why did he look so sad? Why was he so worried about her?
And why did he insist so strongly on establishing a contract with her when she had already made it clear that she wanted a compatibility rate above ninety percent?
Jasmine’s head began to ache from trying to connect the pieces. She hated when her brain forced her to work this hard; every time the dizziness returned, she could practically feel her mental energy draining with it.
Then she remembered their conversation earlier.
Her eyes suddenly brightened.
"Ah..." Jasmine pointed at him. "Is this because you feel responsible for me because I’m still a murder suspect?"
Oleander blinked.
"You’re afraid I’ll run away if I don’t establish a contract with you?" A small giggle escaped her. "Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere."
She reached up and gently patted his shoulder, as though soothing a worried child.
This world is perfect for a quiet retirement and a food business. Of course I want to stay.
Oleander stared at her hand on his shoulder.
For the first time since Jasmine had awakened with amnesia, he truly understood what had changed.
She wasn’t pretending.
She genuinely had no idea what romance meant.
Her mind had taken everything that should have been emotional and turned it into a problem to be analyzed.
He didn’t know whether to feel relieved or helpless.
Still, teaching Jasmine how to fall in love with him again couldn’t be that difficult. Could it?
"When we kissed earlier," he asked carefully, "what did you really feel?"
"Apple."
Oleander’s expression twitched.
"Why did you kiss me back with your tongue?"
Jasmine’s lips curved slightly.
"Because it tasted like an apple."
Oleander stared at her for a moment.
Then he stepped forward.
Jasmine instinctively stepped back.
He moved closer again, and she continued retreating until her back met the cold wall of the elevator.
Her breath caught.
Oleander had caged her between his body and the wall, his face slowly drawing closer.
Jasmine could have pushed him away if she wanted to. Yet, she chose not to.
Her feet remained steady even though her heartbeat had apparently decided to abandon all reasonable behavior.
She watched him with open curiosity.
Why was he behaving like this?
And why did his scent suddenly seem so much stronger?
His familiar masculine scent carried a warm, slightly musky note that seemed to fill the small elevator, making her unusually aware of how close he was.
"Will you kiss someone else the way you kissed me," Oleander asked quietly, "just because they taste like an apple?"
Jasmine thought about it.
"Probably."
Oleander’s eyes darkened.
Jasmine’s gaze dropped to his lips.
He was still moving closer, slowly. It looked like he intended to close the remaining distance between them.
But before he could, Jasmine placed her palm against his chest and pushed him back slightly.
"And you? How do you feel when we kiss? Besides the apple?" Jasmine asked. "Why are you getting this close and acting like you want to kiss me? Your mental corruption is below twenty percent. You can still manage it on your own, right?"
She couldn’t help being curious. Oleander’s strange behavior, the unusual tension between them, and the warmth hanging in the air were simply too difficult to ignore.
Oleander gave her a bitter smirk. "Rage... and love."