My Diary Says My Husband Is Poisoning Me

I was suffering from a rare form of retrograde amnesia.

Every morning I woke up, I’d forgotten everything that happened the day before.

My husband, Christian, was my only memory anchor.

Every day, he would patiently tell me, "You're Price, 29 years old, my wife, and we're very much in love."

Until I found a filled diary deep within the study.

Flipping to the first page, it was my handwriting:

"Don't believe anything Christian says."

"Cowell isn't his cousin, she's his childhood sweetheart."

"You're not sick; he's the one who's been poisoning you."