Chapter 2

Because I never had amnesia in the first place!

But the words caught in my throat.

Whenever I closed my eyes, every single memory was filled with Christian. He had occupied more than half my life. I didn't know how to face the brutal, naked truth once everything was out in the open.

It felt as if hiding behind the excuse of "amnesia" was the only thing keeping me standing, keeping me from fleeing like a wounded dog.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the first-anniversary gift Christian had given me.

It was a jade pendant carved for protection. Christian had personally had it blessed for me, inscribed with the date and the initials of our names. For nine straight years, I had never taken it off.

"I just guessed," I whispered.

"This date must be our anniversary, right? Our initials are on it, so I assumed you gave it to me."

I clutched the pendant, my eyes brimming with desperate hope and silent pleading. I desperately wanted this pendant to trigger his memories, to prove he still loved me, to make him stop this charade and confess everything.

He didn't.

There was no love in his face, no tenderness, not even a flicker of guilt.

Only a palpable wave of relief washed over him. Then, he checked his watch. "Nora, it's eleven-thirty at night. Thirty minutes doesn't make a difference. Our marriage ends here.

"If you're feeling okay physically, let's file for divorce tomorrow. Our family assets have always been kept separate, but since you've been sick, and your family isn't doing as well as before, I can give you a larger share of the assets as compensation..."

Whatever else he said blurred into white noise.

Every cherished memory of him shattered alongside my heart, choking the air from my throat in pure, unbearable agony.

That night, he acted as if I didn't exist and went right back to baking the cake with Chloe.

Chloe didn't leave. She spent the night in Christian's bedroom.

I stayed awake deep into the night.

In the pitch dark, Christian stepped out to make a phone call, completely oblivious to me sitting motionlessly on the living room sofa.

In a dead serious tone, he instructed his assistant: "Listen carefully. I don't care how much it costs, make sure everyone around Nora plays along. She must believe that our marriage was strictly a business arrangement and that there was never any love between us..."

Why? What was the point?

If you didn't love me anymore, why couldn't you just say it to my face? Why play this sick game of deception to humiliate and torment me?

I had already agreed to divorce him.

During the mandatory thirty-day waiting period, I still had to live under the same roof with Christian, forced day and night to watch him flirt and sleep with Chloe.

Unable to take it, I packed my bags to leave, but he refused to let me go.

Pressing down firmly on my suitcase, he said sternly, "You have amnesia. You don't remember anything besides basic common sense. If you move out, where will you live? Who will you turn to? What will you do?

"Stay here for now. Leave once you've fully adjusted."

He wasn't my husband anymore. Ignoring my unhealed injuries, I frantically pushed him away, but his grip only tightened.

It felt absurd and sickening. He had meticulously calculated every step to divorce me, so why was he suddenly acting like he cared about my safety? Why wouldn't he just let me go?

In our struggle, my wound ripped open. Blinding pain surged through me, and my consciousness slipped away.

Christian scooped me into his arms, ran to his car, and sped toward the hospital.

In a daze, my mind drifted back to when we were sixteen.

Rivals of the family had hired thugs to kidnap him. They were dragging him toward a van in broad daylight, and I threw myself into the fray like a madwoman to pull him back. A blade plunged into my abdomen, blood pouring out uncontrollably.

Only after the thugs fled in panic did I finally register the agony.

Christian had sobbed hysterically, holding me close as he sprinted toward the hospital as if his life depended on it.

He was covered in his own wounds, soaked in blood. The doctors later said he had been hovering on the brink of death himself when he arrived; that he managed to carry me into the emergency room was nothing short of a miracle.

We clearly loved each other enough to die for one another.

So how...

How did it come to this?

A tickle on my cheek pulled me toward consciousness. I opened my eyes to find my cousin, Summer, gently wiping away my tears.

Seeing me awake, she immediately stood up to call the doctor.

I reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Summer, why did you help Christian lie to me?"

Aside from Christian, Summer—who grew up with me—was the only person I truly trusted, the only one I could pour my heart out to.

She had worked at Christian's company for years. I couldn't believe she had known nothing about Chloe.

Yet she never told me a word.

When I was hospitalized earlier, she came to visit and casually mentioned that Christian and I had a marriage contract that had expired.

My entire reality had been turned into one massive, suffocating lie.

Breaking down, I couldn't stop the trembling question: "Summer, can I not even trust you anymore?"