When I Forgot, Nine Men Became My Husband

Two years ago, my intermittent amnesia had completely healed. But I kept it a secret from everyone. Until today, when I overheard a conversation between my husband, Nate Caldwell, and his buddy. His buddy asked him if he wasn't worried about them getting too real when I lost my memory every few months, and he had them pose as him to live with me. Nate swirled his drink, his tone dismissive, saying I was frigid, and as long as they didn't actively flirt, I wouldn’t have any needs in that area. He even warned his buddies that they could act, but couldn’t actually touch me. He planned to return to his family once he was done playing around. So, in these three years, I had lost my memory nine times, and there had been nine different men pretending to be my husband. Those moments of holding hands, embracing, even sharing a bed—none of them were the real Nate Caldwell. 1 My ninth “husband” arrived home to find me sitting on the sofa, lost in thought. A clear voice broke my reverie: “Iris, I’m home.” I turned my head to look at the man at the doorway. “Who are you?” I frowned, feigning confusion. “Are you my husband? I recall my husband’s name is Nate Caldwell.” The man paused for a second, then immediately refuted: “No! That… I’m your husband’s friend! Don't worry, ma’am, I’ll call your husband to come back right now!” With that, the man pulled out his phone and hurried to the balcony. “Nate, she’s lost her memory again! Whose turn is it this time? Get over here and relieve me!” Hidden by the window, I heard Nate’s buddies squabbling through the speaker. “Nate, she’s too clingy, you have to watch her 24/7, we can’t handle it!” “Yeah, she’s great in every other way, but she’s too strict. What cat in this world doesn’t sneak a little fish?” “How about you just come back yourself, Nate?” “No,” Nate’s lazy voice came through the speaker. “I’m not done having fun yet, don’t want to go home. Who’s going to fill in for me? As brothers, it’s not cool to refuse such a simple favor, is it?” Amidst their excuses, a cool, clear voice spoke: “I’ll go.” I recognized it. It was Ethan Thorne, Nate’s best friend. Ethan was known in the social circles as a famously stoic gentleman, rumored to have been single for thirty years. When Nate first suggested finding someone to impersonate my husband, Ethan was the first to object. But now, was he also interested in playing this game of make-believe? Half an hour later, the front door clicked open. Ethan walked in, backlit by the evening sun. “Iris, I’m home.” His cool voice carried a hint of magnetism. I rose, steadily looking at the tall, handsome man before me. “You’re my husband, Nate Caldwell?” “Mm.” Ethan cleared his throat lightly, covering his lips. “Apologies, I worked late tonight, came home late.” No sooner had he spoken than his phone rang. Ethan made an apologetic gesture and took the call on the balcony. Through the earpiece, Nate’s nonchalant voice drifted out: “Oh, by the way, Ethan, I forgot to tell you, at most, just hold her hand, give her a hug. But for heaven’s sake, don’t sleep with her. No matter how much fun I’m having, she’s still my wife, and I’ll eventually come back to her.” “Got it,” Ethan’s voice was low. For three years, no matter how those men pretended to be Nate, they only ever held my hand or hugged me, never crossing the line. For three years, there were never any joint photos in the house, nor any identity documents of any man. They naturally assumed I wouldn’t find out. I also played along, pretending not to know a thing. But this time, I wanted to play a different game. I walked over and actively embraced Ethan’s waist. “Honey, even though I’ve lost my memory, the moment I saw you, I felt a special closeness. You must be my husband, no doubt about it.” I held Ethan’s waist tightly, my hand not forgetting to caress his firm abs. Ethan’s body stiffened for a moment, then he awkwardly pushed me away. “What’s wrong?” I asked innocently. “Honey, I’ve lost my memory. Don’t you like me anymore?” “No,” Ethan’s eyes flickered slightly, his voice hoarse, “…I like you.” I reached out to unbutton his shirt, my hand touching his chest muscles. “Honey, it’s so cold today. How about we go to bed and warm up together?” Ethan’s Adam’s apple bobbed: “…Okay.” That night, Ethan and I shared a bed. Yet, as if by unspoken agreement, we said nothing more. 2 The next day, Ethan took me to a bar, saying he wanted to reintroduce me to his friends. As soon as we entered the private room, we saw Nate passionately kissing a woman. Ethan cleared his throat, interrupting them. Nate saw us both, paused for a moment, then slowly stood up. “Hello, I’m Adrian, Nate’s childhood friend.” Nate extended his hand to me, introducing leisurely, “This is my girlfriend, Anna.” “Oh.” I nodded, not taking his hand. Anna. I knew her, of course. Nate Caldwell’s first love. They had broken up due to family reasons, then reconnected, secretly, while I was suffering from amnesia. Nate’s unwillingness to return home for three years was all because of her. There were many of Nate’s friends in the private room, several of whom had previously posed as my husband. At that moment, they all, as if nothing was amiss, jokingly said to me: “Iris, lost your memory again? Our Nate is truly a great guy; no matter how many times you forget, he’ll always stick by you!” “That’s right, Iris, you should cherish such a good man!” I curled my lips into a sarcastic smile, saying nothing. Ethan put his arm around me and sat me down on the sofa. As soon as we were seated, I picked up a piece of fruit and fed it to him: “Honey, eat more.” In the dim light, I glimpsed Nate’s eyes turn towards us. I leaned close to Ethan’s ear, deliberately nibbling his earlobe: “Honey, you were so hard all night, you hurt me so much~” Ethan’s face stiffened, and he awkwardly squeezed my hand: “Baby, don’t cause trouble.” Nate clutched his glass tightly, his face displeased. Anna, sitting next to him, snickered mockingly: “Iris, you really have a way about you. Our stoic gentleman, who usually keeps his distance from women in our circles, is acting like a lovesick teenager around you.” At her words, Nate’s friends, fearing I might catch on, all let out awkward laughs, trying to smooth things over: “Haha, well, that just shows how strong Iris and Nate’s relationship is!” “Yeah, even with memory loss, it doesn’t stop them from showing affection!” Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Nate taking a sip of his drink, his face as dark as charcoal. A flicker of satisfaction went through me, and I rose to go to the restroom. As I came out of the restroom, Anna walked towards me. The moment we brushed past each other, with a “splash,” she spilled the entire glass of red wine on me. “Oh dear, my apologies, my hand slipped.” “Slap!” I raised my hand and slapped her hard. “My apologies, my hand slipped just now too.” No sooner had I spoken than a sharp rebuke came from behind me: “Iris Caldwell, what are you doing!” Nate strode over. Anna immediately flung herself into his arms, crying as if in the rain: “Honey, I just accidentally spilled wine on Iris, and she got angry and hit me. My head feels so dizzy now.” Nate’s face was grim, clearly displeased: “Apologize to Anna!” I scoffed: “Who are you to tell me what to do?” “Iris Caldwell!” Nate’s eyes were cold and menacing, his face terrifyingly dark. “How did you become so arrogant and overbearing after losing your memory?” “What I become has nothing to do with you.” I couldn’t be bothered to deal with him anymore. Just as I turned to leave, Nate kicked me in the knee, forcing me to fall to my knees with a “thud.” “Iris Caldwell, don’t think you can do whatever you want just because you’ve lost your memory. Apologize to Anna immediately!” Looking at the furious man before me, I felt both pathetic and ridiculous. I had no parents, and in this vast city, Nate Caldwell was my only reliance. We had been together for ten years, ever since we fell in love in college. When he proposed to me, he swore he would always protect and love me, that he would never betray me in this life. But now, he not only betrayed our marriage but also used violence against me for another woman. All the sweet words and solemn vows had turned into a joke. Amidst my sorrow and anger, Ethan’s sharp voice came from behind me: “Don’t touch her!” I endured the pain in my knee, stood up quickly, slapped Nate across the face, and then hid in Ethan’s arms, complaining: “Honey, your friend is so rude, he’s bullying me!” Ethan’s face was displeased, his eyes clouded with gloom, and his gaze towards Nate was full of warning: “Don’t bully Iris.” Nate gritted his back teeth, a furious expression on his grim face. Anna huddled in Nate’s arms, sneering dismissively: “A used bus and a rebound guy, what’s there to be so proud of?” “Shut up!” Nate and Ethan’s voices rang out simultaneously. 3 “Anna, Iris is wrong, but you shouldn’t insult her either.” Nate’s tone was cold and harsh. Ethan frowned deeply, looking at Anna, his eyes icy: “From now on, don’t let me hear you badmouthing Iris again.” With that, he put his arm around me and strode away. We went straight home. As soon as we entered, I embraced Ethan’s waist, my hand caressing his firm abs a few times. “Honey, you looked so handsome protecting me just now, I love it!” Ethan’s ears tinged with a blush, and he lightly cleared his throat: “As long as you like it.” I reached out to unbuckle his belt. “Honey, the weather’s too cold. Let’s go exercise in bed and warm up, shall we?” “…It’s still early.” “Who says you have to wait until a certain time to go to bed?” I kissed his Adam’s apple, coaxing softly, “Honey, I’ve lost my memory, and I can’t remember what intimacy feels like… Can you help me recall?” Ethan’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his voice heavily hoarse: “Iris… don’t tease.” I simply pushed him onto the sofa. Ethan struggled for two seconds, then flipped over, pinning me beneath him. From afternoon to late night, Ethan was like a ravenous wolf tasting meat for the first time, knowing the flavor and never sated. I was so exhausted I fell into a deep sleep. In a hazy state, I heard Ethan’s husky voice asking in my ear: “Iris, are you really suffering from amnesia?” I opened my mouth but said nothing. Did it even matter anymore, whether I was or wasn’t?

? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "428908", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel