Chapter 4

On our very first day of marriage, Jaxon Miller moved directly into our marital home.

Time and again, he used the excuse of "getting revenge for Celeste," splashing scalding coffee on me, pushing me down the stairs.

He even, in front of me, pinned Celeste to the sofa.

Celeste struggled, pushing him away.

Until that late night, when she finally gave in.

She held a cigarette, her bloodshot eyes locking with mine, her voice a raw rasp.

“Liam, there’s too much baggage between us.”

She was right.

The humiliation of my youth, the death of my parents, the hand she lost for me.

These were burdens of hatred too immense for us to overcome.

I was dragged to the treatment chair, my head covered in electrodes.

Celeste walked over, her face a mask of complicated emotions.

Seeing the fresh tears on my face, she leaned down and kissed me.

“Liam, just sleep. Everything will be a fresh start when you wake.”

As she reached for the switch, Dr. Reed’s hesitant voice broke the silence.

“Ms. Hayes, the memory wipes have been too frequent lately. It will harm Mr. Thorne’s brain.”

Celeste paused, then sighed helplessly.

“But I can’t let him hate me.”

A harsh sizzle.

The current savagely pierced my brain, tearing apart every unbearable, agonizing memory until nothing remained but dust.

My fingers went limp, and the teddy bear I’d been clutching rolled into the trash can beside the bed.

Just like all those years ago.

Only this time, no one would pick it up.

I slept for a long time. When I opened my eyes, I saw a handsome, slightly unfamiliar face.

I frowned, abruptly pulling back the hand she still tightly clasped.

“Who are you?”

Her body instantly stiffened, immense panic flooding her eyes.

“Liam, it’s Celeste, your wife.”

She desperately grabbed my hand, her grip so strong it felt like she wanted to crush my bones.

“We’ve been married for three years, you love me very much, remember? You said I was your life.”

Seeing my blank expression, Celeste kept repeating how much I loved her.

I rubbed my throbbing temples.

I seemed to remember the things she was saying.

But that love, it felt like it had been surgically excised.

I habitually spoke to comfort her.

“Sorry, my head just hurts so much.”

Celeste’s expression froze for a moment, unnaturally rigid.

She awkwardly averted her gaze, looking flustered, and her eyes landed on the teddy bear in the trash can.

Her brows furrowed, and she immediately called for staff.

“What is this trash? Get it out of here now!”

I looked at the dried, dark crimson stains on the bear, and instinctively touched the wound on my own lip.

Celeste’s body instantly tensed. “Did you have a nightmare?” she blurted out, then frantically added, “Dreams aren’t real, don’t believe anything you see in them!”

Her attempts to cover it up were clumsy, almost comical.

But I didn't even have the energy to investigate.

I just watched as the bear was taken away, and calmly said,

“A rotten bear. It should have been thrown out long ago.”

Just like our love.

Celeste seemed to sense something. Despite being ordered by the doctors to rest, she clung to my side almost twenty-four hours a day.

Oh, no, not at night.

In the dead of night, when she got up to find Jaxon Miller, I would always wake up.

Sometimes, they even returned to our bedroom.

Right beside the bed I was lying in.

“Celeste, when are you going to let Liam Thorne get his memory back?”

Jaxon Miller’s voice was tearful, cutting through the lust-filled silence with chilling clarity.

“You sacrificed ten years of marriage for revenge, and I’ve waited ten years for you. It’s enough, truly, it’s enough.”