In the seventh year of our marriage, Arthur Sterling's true, playboy nature was finally exposed. He tricked me into taking an experimental drug designed to induce temporary amnesia, making me forget him entirely. While I was "forgetting," he brought another woman into our marital home, flaunting their affair. He even threw her a massive, lavish wedding. But what he didn't know was that my memory had already completely returned. I continued to fake my amnesia, playing along with his elaborate performance. When I quietly bowed out to let them be together, Arthur lost his mind trying to find me. He broke down, sobbing hysterically: "Chloe, it was all my fault! Will you please just take the pill one more time?" "This time, I promise I'll make you forget all the pain, and you'll fall in love with me all over again." 1 In the third month of my supposed amnesia, my memories finally came rushing back. I was just about to push open the study door and share the good news with Arthur. When I accidentally overheard his best friend talking: "Arthur, where the hell did you get that drug?" "When my wife and I hit the seven-year itch, I need to give her a dose of that amnesia pill too. You get to have a mistress without getting caught, and it keeps the marriage perfectly intact." I froze outside the door, my trembling hand pulling back from the handle. The casual banter inside sent a violent chill down my spine. My amnesia wasn't from a car crash... it was intentional! And my own husband, Arthur Sterling, was the one who did it. I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, but I couldn't even feel the pain. Arthur was leaning lazily against the leather sofa, holding the antidote in one hand, while kissing a sexy woman sitting next to him with the other. "In a month, I'll give Chloe the antidote." "Then I'll dedicate myself to taking care of her. I'll be the perfect husband and a great father from then on." One of his friends gave him a thumbs-up, looking at him with a smirking, entertained expression. "Arthur, just don't get addicted to the thrill. You might find it hard to give up the entire forest just for one tree." Arthur chuckled mockingly. "The only woman I truly love is Chloe. The rest are just for fun." "Careful, Artie." "If that drug fails, and Chloe finds out you've been messing around... with her personality, she'll definitely divorce you." "Yeah, man. You've had your fun tonight. Go home and slip her another pill. The more she forgets, the safer you are." His friends were eagerly offering terrible advice, but Arthur looked incredibly confident. "Her dad died three months ago. Chloe still doesn't even know." "She's an orphan now. No one in the world loves her as much as I do. She will absolutely never leave me." He twisted the wedding band on his finger, his eyes full of absolute certainty. The men in the room were completely envious, practically begging Arthur for a few pills to slip to their own wives. I stumbled backward, barely able to keep my balance. Arthur and I had known each other for ten years. High school sweethearts. For me, the notoriously lazy bad boy had studied relentlessly to get into a top-tier university. For our future, he gave up his passion for racing to start a grounded, practical tech company. All so I wouldn't have to struggle. When Arthur's company went public, he held my hand and we rang the opening bell on Wall Street together. Right there on the trading floor, he dropped to one knee and proposed: "Marry me!" "I, Arthur Sterling, offer the entire Sterling empire as your dowry." I truly believed he was my forever. Yet here he was, intentionally erasing my memory, deceiving me. 2 Three months ago, my memory started getting hazy and chaotic. Arthur lied to me, saying it was trauma from a minor car accident, and pretended to take me to endless doctors. It turns out, the "medication" he was giving me to "cure" my memory loss was actually the drug causing it. The man I trusted most in the world was playing a sick, twisted game with my emotions. The heartbreak was so severe I could barely breathe. Coupled with the devastating news of my father's passing, a heavy, crushing weight settled deep in my chest. Freezing rain began to fall. Memories flooded my mind like a surging tide. During my amnesia, Arthur would often smile and gently test me: "Chloe, what do you think our relationship is?" I would shake my head. He would say, "Chloe, we're best friends. I'm helping your husband take care of you." Friends? I laughed bitterly at myself. The rain soaked me down to my bones. 3 I returned home like a walking ghost, quickly filled out the application forms, and ran straight to my former professor's office. "Professor, can I still join the classified research project?" "Someone with your talent? Anytime. But..." After his initial excitement, the professor looked slightly hesitant. "Arthur has always been so protective of you. He didn't want you working because he was afraid it would be too hard on you." "Once you enter the secure facility, you'll be working under an alias. You might not see your family for ten, maybe even twenty years. It's nothing like living the life of a billionaire's wife. Do you want six months to think about it?" I didn't hesitate. "No need. I'll be ready to join in one month." If the rest of my life had to be dedicated to a husband like Arthur. I would rather burn out the rest of my days in a lab, dedicating myself entirely to biomedical research. The professor respected my decision and didn't press further. "If you've truly made up your mind, we would be honored to have you join the project." My gaze was unwavering. "I don't have any attachments holding me back anymore." Right now, I was exactly what Arthur called me: an orphan. I had no family, and I certainly didn't need a husband. 4 "Where are you?" Arthur called me. I quickly suppressed the chaotic storm of emotions in my chest before forcing out the words, "Artie." Hearing that I still hadn't "woken up," the man on the other end let out a clear sigh of relief. "Chloe, come home early. It's time for your medicine." "Okay." Hearing him arrange for me to take the drug again sent a violent chill through my entire body. I was completely, utterly disgusted by this husband. I had told him once, long ago, that if the day ever came when he didn't love me anymore, he just had to be honest, and I would gracefully bow out. But clearly, Arthur confused the desire for control with actual love. I refused to settle for a love that was tainted. I didn't even have the energy to expose his sick game. I just had to play along for one final act. Then, we would be completely, permanently done. 5 When I pushed open the front door, Arthur was sitting leisurely on the sofa, looking impeccably handsome in a tailored black suit. For a split second, I felt a familiar flutter in my chest, but then he walked over, holding a glass of water and the pill. "Chloe, take your medicine. You'll remember everything soon." Taking the pill from him, I stared directly into eyes that used sincerity to mask absolute deceit. "How soon is 'soon'?" Having never questioned him before, my sudden inquiry made Arthur’s eyes dart away evasively. "...I'm not a doctor. But I would never hurt you." "Don't you trust me, Chloe? We've been best friends since we were kids." I gave a bitter, mocking smile. I swallowed the pill right in front of him. I saw the flash of immense relief wash over his face. What he didn't know... Was that the second I turned my back, I spit the pill I had hidden under my tongue directly into the toilet. 6 Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I wiped away the tears of sheer heartbreak. "Arthur Sterling, you will never lie to me again." Taking advantage of Arthur going out on a date, I walked into our old master bedroom. I dug through his drawers and found our marriage certificate. He had wrapped it in several layers of newspaper and hidden it deep in the back. During my "amnesia," he had set me up in the guest bedroom. Arthur had taken all our photos together and hidden them in the basement, creating the perfect illusion that I was just a temporary houseguest. All so he could openly bring different women home. And sleep with them... right in front of me, in our marital bed. I gathered everything from the basement and the hidden spots in the master bedroom—anything that proved I existed—and hauled it all to the empty fire pit in the backyard, ready to burn it. A sleek, customized Lotus sports car pulled into the driveway. This was the tenth woman Arthur had brought home. He had been seeing her for three months; a significantly longer run than the previous ones. He pressed a kiss to the girl's blushing cheek before strolling over toward the glow of the fire. "Chloe, what are you burning?" I was burning everything face down. Arthur couldn't tell that our marriage certificate and wedding photos were hidden beneath the flames. "Just some old, useless sketches that I couldn't sell. They were taking up space." Arthur's eyes filled with genuine regret. "Don't burn them. I'll buy them from you." During my two years as a stay-at-home wife, since I couldn't work in the lab, I had taken up painting. And during my amnesia, painting was the only thing I remembered how to do. So, he knew exactly how much I cherished my artwork. Arthur looked distressed. He reached his hand toward the fire, clearly wanting to salvage whatever he could. I swatted his hand away firmly. "They're defective. There's no point in saving them." Arthur clutched his chest, a flicker of unease passing through his eyes. "If you have any more drafts you don't want, sell them to me." "Actually... I really love... your paintings." I clearly saw the flash of deep, genuine emotion he accidentally let slip. I knew he loved the artist, not the art. But right now, wracked with guilt and secrecy, he didn't dare admit it. I smiled faintly. "You should be focusing on Ms. Evans. My paintings aren't anything special." Evelyn Evans smirked and leaned into Arthur's embrace. "Arthur, weren't we going to go play some games?" He looked down at Evelyn with indulgent affection. "Let's go." I watched their retreating backs as they walked intimately into the house. He loved being wild and free. I was going to let him have it.
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