Four years into my marriage to my childhood sweetheart, my family went bankrupt. We started fighting constantly, getting physical, and even wanted a divorce. But unexpectedly, after one of our massive fights, my memory suddenly reverted back to when I was 22. That was when Ethan and I were most deeply in love. And so, I said: "Hubby, hug me." The aloof, aristocratic man wiped the scratch I had just given him and said coldly, "What kind of game are you playing now?" "Trying a sneak attack this time?" Me: "I want a hug, don't you?" ... After a long pause, he said, "I do." "Come here." 1 After a huge fight with Ethan Wright, my memory suddenly snapped back to age 22. 22-year-old Chloe wouldn't fight with Ethan. She always wanted to stick to him like glue. So, looking at the man sleeping with his back to me, I didn't even think twice— I aggressively yanked his blanket off. Ethan frowned: "Chloe, are you done throwing your... mmm..." Before he could finish, I straddled him and kissed him deeply. Ethan struggled for a second before violently pushing me away. In the moonlight, the red scratch on his forehead was faint, but it hadn't scabbed over yet. I didn't know I was the one who had scratched him earlier. I thought he bumped into something from working too hard. So, I leaned in and gently kissed the wound. Ethan's body visibly jolted. Then, he pinned me hard against the mattress. His eyes were ice-cold as he gripped my wrists. "What the hell are you doing, Chloe?" "Instead of throwing punches, you're resorting to sneak attacks now?" I couldn't understand what he was saying. I only knew he seemed really angry. 22-year-old Chloe hated it most when Ethan was angry. I lifted my upper body, trying hard to press my lips to his. "Hubby, I just wanted to hug you." I whined playfully, wrapping my arms around his neck: "Don't you want to?" He stared at me, his gaze as dark and deep as an abyss. After a long silence, he leaned down and kissed me. "I do." As our lips tangled, I felt his tense body relax in a way it hadn't in a long time. "More than anything." 2 I had no idea this was the first intimate contact Ethan and I had shared in three months. I just chalked it up to his youthful stamina, tossing me around harder and harder as the night went on. When I woke up the next day, my lower back felt like it was breaking. Ethan had already left for work, and I pouted. I complained to our housekeeper, Martha, who was standing nearby: "He didn't even say good morning to me." "He used to always say good morning!" And kiss me! Martha looked at me with sheer terror, like I was a monster. After a long pause, she choked out two sentences: "Ma'am, three months ago, Mr. Wright gave you a kiss." "And you cracked his head open with a chair." Me: ... When did I get so violent? I completely refused to believe Martha's words. After all, Ethan and I were childhood sweethearts. We grew up together. We had a great relationship, and when we reached legal age, it was only natural that we dated and got married. How could I possibly do something so awful to him? 22-year-old me didn't know that when I was 26, my family would go bankrupt. I would become sensitive, paranoid, and withdrawn. And Ethan naturally had an icy, aloof personality. He hated explaining himself. When two silent people clash, I stopped believing in his love, and he couldn't understand my suspicion. We fought every single day. At our worst, things even got physical... I knew none of this. I waved my hand dismissively: "Stop talking nonsense and pack me a lunch." "I'm going to the office to see Et..." Before I could finish, a booming woman's voice echoed from downstairs. "Chloe Evans, you beat my son into that state!" "Get down here right now!" 3 In my memory, Ethan's mother was incredibly gentle. She always had a warm smile whenever she saw me. But this time, she was furious, her eyes filled with absolute disgust. "Chloe, it's one thing that your family went bankrupt." "But do you plan to leech off my Ethan for the rest of your life?!" She suddenly slammed a set of divorce papers onto the table: "The Wright family doesn't need an incompetent, violent daughter-in-law like you. Sign these papers immediately." "Leave my son!" I stared blankly at everything unfolding in front of me. Bankrupt? When did my family go bankrupt? Besides, I was cute, bubbly, and outgoing. No one had ever called me "violent" growing up. My 22-year-old self had never weathered a storm like this. I was too stunned to react. As Mrs. Wright stepped forward, enraged, about to grab me— Ethan suddenly appeared. He ran in, panting, and pulled me securely into his arms. "Mom, who gave you the right to touch her?!" "Son, stop being a fool. Look at the gash on your forehead. Do you really want to be tied to this crazy woman for the rest of your life?" I peeked out from his chest, looking pitiful. "I'm not a crazy woman." Ethan looked down at me, clearly stunned. It seemed he hadn't expected me to be so calm. He shielded me tightly and said seriously: "She is my wife." "Whether her family is bankrupt or not, she is." "You are not allowed to bully her! No one is allowed to bully her!" 4 Up in the master bedroom, Ethan placed me on the bed. His movements carried a trace of unfamiliarity and... defensiveness. Like he was afraid I might suddenly hit him. "Are you okay?" "Hubby, did my family go bankrupt?" I looked up, asking Ethan. No matter how dense Ethan might be, he could see something was very wrong with my mental state right now. But he didn't call me out. He just stroked my long hair, crouched down, and said earnestly: "It's okay. You still have me." As soon as he said that, his face flushed bright red. Probably because at 26, we spent all our time constantly arguing. I had never shown him vulnerability, and he had never tried to comfort me. But things were different now. I lunged forward and hugged him tight. Tears streamed down my face. I choked out: "Hubby, please don't abandon me, okay?" "I know how much wealthy families care about alliances and profits." "I know you'd probably rather find a girl who can actually help your career." "But I really, really love you. I don't want us to split up." "Please don't leave me, okay?" 22-year-old Chloe was a deeply loved, pampered heiress. I had the most love and care in the world. So without overthinking it, I threw myself into his arms, whining and pouring out my love. Ethan visibly froze. A second later, he pulled me slightly away and kissed me fiercely. It was burning, full of love, and carried a dark, impulsive edge I didn't quite understand. I was pinned to the mattress. "Mmph, you haven't promised me yet." I turned my head away: "If you don't promise, no kissing!" He grabbed my chin. A storm of violent emotions rolled in his eyes: "I promise." "I will never abandon you." He made the vow solemnly, his fingers undoing the buttons of my blouse one by one. His passionate kisses were laced with extreme devotion. I heard him whisper: "So... you still love me, too." It turns out, a man who has been starved of intimacy for a long time is quite terrifying. My body felt like it was falling apart before Ethan finally let me go. He carried me for a quick clean-up, then gently pulled me into his arms, kissing my hair. "Did it feel good?" Just as I was about to answer, a blinding white light flashed before my eyes. Countless memories flooded back into my brain, crashing over me. I was 26 again. 5 Looking at the naked man holding me close. I let out a piercing scream and kicked him right off the bed! "Ethan Wright! You—you took advantage of me!" "We're about to get a divorce, and you still touched me! Watch how I..." I grabbed the bedside lamp, ready to smash it over his head. But this time, he didn't dodge coldly like he used to. Instead, he grabbed my wrist mid-air and pinned me back down on the bed. His gaze was teasing, but he wasn't angry. "Hitting me right after sleeping with me?" Damn it! How did I not realize how strong he was when I used to throw things at him?! I couldn't break free at all! The memories from just moments ago were all still there, playing on a loop in my head. The whining, the crying, the begging him not to leave me. 26-year-old Chloe wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. I could only choose to actively ignore it. I glared at him furiously: "Let me go!" "We agreed to go get the divorce papers tomorrow." "Now. We are going right now!" "I'm not signing them," Ethan said stiffly. He never had a great temper to begin with. In the past, I was usually the one coaxing him. Seeing the wrecked state of the room from my outbursts, the gentleness he had just a moment ago vanished. He was teetering on the edge of anger again. "What exactly do you want?" "Flipping back and forth? Is your brain broken?" "Yes! My brain is broken." "So right now, immediately, come to the courthouse and sign the papers!" "I don't want to wait!" Suddenly regaining my 22-year-old memories—if that wasn't a broken brain, what was? Ethan looked at me, the last shred of his patience finally evaporating. So, he didn't hesitate anymore. He quickly threw his clothes on and drove us to the courthouse. Filing for divorce in our state requires a thirty-day waiting period. While we were submitting the paperwork, the clerk suddenly looked at me and said, "Ms. Evans, if one party has committed adultery or another fault, you can file for an at-fault divorce." "That way, you might not have to wait." Adultery? I followed the clerk's frowning gaze. The hickey on Ethan's neck was incredibly conspicuous. It was glaringly obvious it was left there last night. So... the clerk thought I caught my husband cheating? Ethan caught on instantly. He reached up, casually pulled his collar down a bit more, and said with a straight face: "She gave me these." "I didn't cheat." "Oh? Then why are you getting a divorce?" the clerk asked. Ethan: "She has split personalities. One minute she loves me, the next minute she doesn't." 6 Damn it... You're usually a man of so few words. Why are you explaining yourself so clearly now?! I didn't have the energy to argue with him. I handed in the application and practically sprinted out of there. Once I got into a cab, I received a call from my mom. She told me the debt collectors were at her door again. I quickly told the driver to turn around and head to my mom's place. The cramped, narrow corridors of this rundown apartment building... If my family hadn't gone bankrupt, if my dad hadn't run off with his mistress and illegitimate daughter, I would have never stepped foot in a place like this in my entire life. A group of burly men was blocking the doorway, demanding to know when my mom would pay up. I immediately stepped in front of her, shielding her. "I'll get you the money. Didn't we already agree on a payment plan?" "Then why didn't you transfer the money yesterday? Yesterday was the due date." Me: Because I had amnesia. But who would believe that? Helpless, I had no choice but to empty all the cash in my purse and hand it to the man, promising him that I would pay on time moving forward. That finally got them to leave. Once the crowd dispersed, my mom grabbed my hand, looking sick with worry. "Chloe, mom knows you're out of money too. Could we ask Ethan to help us out just a bit?" I collapsed exhaustedly onto the peeling faux-leather sofa, my voice muffled. "He can't help us anymore. We're getting a divorce." My mom was shocked, but she quickly expressed her understanding. After all, she had married "down" when she chose my dad. She spent decades enjoying a smooth, harmonious life, leveraging her resources to help him climb the ladder. But even then, my dad secretly had another woman and another child on the side. When disaster struck, he didn't even think twice before abandoning us both. How long can a marriage really hold up? Especially one hit by a massive crisis. No one knows. "Then what are you going to do? Working as a piano teacher at that local academy isn't going to be enough to pay off this kind of debt," my mom said, her brows furrowed tight. I comforted her: "It's fine, Mom. I'll borrow a little from Mia first, and I'll pick up a few extra side gigs. We will get through this." My mom buried her face in my shoulder and cried like a child. And me—the girl who used to whine and throw tantrums freely—had to learn how to grow up. I was no longer my 22-year-old self. At 22, I loved attending high-society galas and parties. Everywhere I went, I was the superstar carrying limited-edition designer bags. But at 26, wearing a generic dress provided by the event organizers, I sat in the corner, tirelessly playing piano piece after piano piece. Completely ignored. Eventually, my best friend, Mia Sullivan, came over. She rubbed my wrist sympathetically. "Are you okay, Chloe? Are you tired?" I shook my head: "I'm surviving." Several people nearby had recognized me. They couldn't help but sneer and point fingers at me. But my mind was entirely focused on getting my paycheck. I had no energy to care about anything else. Just as I was heading to get my payment, a familiar face entered my line of sight. It was Ethan. Tall, dressed in an immaculately tailored suit, his handsome face drew the attention of countless women in the room. But he ignored all of them, stubbornly keeping his eyes fixed in my direction. Our eyes met. I didn't say a word. A flicker of anger slowly built in his eyes. So, when the next girl came up to offer him a drink, he didn't brush her off. Mia clicked her tongue. "Tsk, tsk. He's obviously trying to make you jealous." "You aren't going over there? Are you really willing to let him go?" I shook my head. I was just about to tell her that we were already getting a divorce. Besides, in my current state, just keeping myself fed was a struggle. I didn't have the energy to march over there and play petty jealousy games over a romance. But before I could even voice my thoughts, another blinding white light flashed before my eyes. Oh, no. As the thought crossed my mind, my brain's memories began scrambling again, finally locking into place. Yep. I had... traveled back to being 22 again. 22-year-old Chloe watched another woman casually place her hand near Ethan's shoulder. Instantly, I was engulfed in a blazing inferno of rage. Without a second thought, I slapped away the envelope of cash the event manager was trying to hand me, and stomped straight toward Ethan. "Ethan Wright, you are not allowed to hold another woman!"
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