It was the fifth year of my silent, unrequited love for Wesley Sinclair. Phoebe Heinberg, his impoverished first love, had finally chosen money over romance. She had sent me a message, asking me to pass it along: [Jas, Wesley's family won't let us see each other, and they are forcing me to go abroad. Can you tell him something for me? Tell him I will definitely come back for him after graduation.] I stared down at those two lines on my screen. With a calm face, I pressed delete. That same day, Wesley was involved in a terrible car accident while racing to the airport to catch her flight. When he woke, he had forgotten everyone, except for me. In his mind, I was his only fiancée. The once distant, cold young heir transformed into my devoted, clingy shadow, obeying my every whim. But at our wedding... His first love returned. "Wesley, she is a liar!" Phoebe burst into the chapel, tears streaming down her face. "She stole my identity and lied to you! The one you actually love is me!" As her voice echoed through the hall, Wesley's hand froze, right as he was about to slip the ring onto my finger. 1 Wesley and the doctor stepped out of the examination room. Seeing me waiting outside, he naturally reached out and took my hand, his tone as casual as ever. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Were you about to fall asleep?" He gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, offering a soft smile to reassure me. "Don't worry your pretty head over it. The doctor says I'm recovering well. We just need a trigger now." The specialist beside him quickly chimed in. "Mr. Sinclair's memory is returning steadily. He is already recalling scattered fragments. However, to fully restore his memory, he needs a significant emotional stimulus. Perhaps take him to places you two used to visit, or surround him with familiar personal items from your past. It will help stimulate his recall." I swallowed the dryness in my throat, offering a polite smile. "I understand. Thank you, doctor." Wesley had been in a severe car accident two years ago. He had forgotten almost everything, but he remembered me as his childhood sweetheart and his designated fiancée. All day, my mind drifted. Even during our wedding dress fitting, I could barely focus. The boutique director and the designers presented the custom, high-end gowns flown in from Paris for my selection. "Is the wedding scheduled for next month, Miss Croft? I'm so envious. I heard you two have known each other for over a decade?" Before I could answer, a familiar voice cut in. "Yes, we have." Wesley walked over, bending down to help adjust the train of my gown. He carefully smoothed out every fold before looking up at me. "Jas and I grew up together. We were childhood sweethearts." He stood up, leaning in close to brush his fingers against my cheek, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for me. "Jas... you look breathtaking today." As the words left his mouth, his ears flushed crimson. My eyelashes fluttered, and I looked away. "Every girl looks beautiful in a wedding dress." Wesley arched an eyebrow, clearing his throat with a playful, dismissive scoff. "None of them can compare to my wife. I only care about how my wife looks in a wedding dress." The more certain he was, the heavier my chest felt. I turned toward the changing room. "I'm a bit tired today. Let's just go with the simple satin gown." Wesley quickly caught up to me. "What about the French lace mermaid gown with the intricate beading? Didn't you say that was your absolute favorite?" He softened his tone, sounding slightly disappointed. "Jas, you don't need to worry about the cost. Just pick the one you love the most." My back was turned to him, and I bit my lower lip. The doctor's words from this morning echoed in my head: Surround him with familiar personal items from your past... The French lace mermaid gown. It was indeed my favorite, but it was also Phoebe's favorite. I could not, under any circumstances, let him recover his memories on the eve of our wedding. "It's nothing," I lied, forcing a smile as I turned around. "I just don't like it anymore." 2 After dinner, Wesley accompanied me for a walk along the lake near his family's estate. When we were kids, I used to sneak out during the hot summer nights to catch tadpoles with him by this very water. Once, I stepped on some slippery moss and tumbled into the deep end. I couldn't swim and began thrashing wildly. It was Wesley who dove in without hesitation and dragged me back to the shore. I quietly locked my phone. I had just texted my housekeeper, instructing them to sweep our home once more and remove any trace of Phoebe. "Jas, do you have any photos of us from when we were kids on your phone?" Wesley asked, his tone slightly self-conscious. "I want to see what you looked like back then." I hesitated for a second before opening my gallery. "Sure." Growing up, the heir of the Sinclair family was notorious for his arrogance. He bullied almost every other wealthy kid in our social circle, but he never crossed me. Perhaps it was because I was quiet, or perhaps because I was easily frightened. Ultimately, I became his little shadow. Wesley was a massive clean-freak, yet he would share his snacks with me while grumbling about my messy habits. He claimed to detest my lazy attitude, but his bedroom was the only place he ever permitted me to take my afternoon naps. His favorite thing to do was press his index finger against my forehead, lecturing me with mock exasperation. "Jasmine Croft, if anyone ever picks on you, you tell me. You hear me?" I held onto those words for years. But eventually, the person who hurt me the most was him. The day my family arranged our alliance, I had just returned to the country. Before even unloading my luggage from the car, I ran eagerly into the Sinclair mansion, only to overhear Wesley talking to another girl. Phoebe was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed, looking at him with a provocative smirk. "It seems the young master of the Sinclair family is just another puppet on a string, unable to even choose who he dates." Wesley's lips thinned into a tight line. He frowned, his voice dropping. "Who says I can't choose?" That very afternoon, I learned that the Sinclairs wanted to call off the engagement. Feeling guilty, his parents paid a formal visit to my family to apologize. Wesley stood at the back of the room. After high school, we had rarely crossed paths. He went abroad for university, and since I preferred quiet spaces, I often made excuses to skip the social gatherings he attended. The day we called off the engagement was my first day back in the country, and the day I prepared to let him go. Wesley looked at me across the crowded room. We stared at each other for a long moment, as if we had truly loved each other once. His lips parted, but in the end, he only uttered two words. "I'm sorry." I smiled and remained silent, offering a quiet, obedient nod. Love was never something that could be forced. I had learned that lesson long ago. I scrolled to an old childhood photo and held the phone out to him. He took it, freezing for a moment before a soft laugh escaped him. "You were so adorable back then." Wesley pinched my cheek gently. "In this photo, you ruined my birthday cake, but you were still standing there, smiling like an innocent angel." This time, my face flushed warm. "I bought you another cake to make up for it," I mumbled in defense. Wesley chuckled but didn't say anything. He kept scrolling through the album, tracking our journey from kindergarten to middle school. "You had blunt bangs in middle school. You looked so sweet. Did anyone try to bully you back then? Look at this photo, you're hiding behind me like a shy little bird." Then, he swiped to the next slide. It was a candid shot taken by my best friend. I was flashing a peace sign at the camera, while behind me, Wesley was on his phone, completely oblivious. He was wearing a crisp white dress shirt; it was taken during our high school graduation ceremony. Wesley's brow furrowed, his immediate reaction catching me off guard. "What kind of dress is that? The back is cut way too low." He zoomed in on the photo, his tone dripping with jealousy. "Look at those two guys behind you, they're practically drooling. Are you still in touch with them? Block them immediately." He kept scrolling, and the screen flashed with the face of a girl he didn't recognize. Before he could get a proper look, I snatched the phone away. "Alright, that's enough!" I forced a cheerful laugh. "I was so awkward back then. There's nothing interesting to see." Wesley frowned, pressing his finger against my forehead. "Why are you acting like this? Who was that girl? I barely saw her. Are you worried I'll look at someone else?" He took my hand, intertwining our fingers. His palm was warm and reassuring. "My wife is the most beautiful woman in the world. I've never thought you were awkward. If I did, how could I have loved you for all these years?" Is that so? I thought. Would you say the same things if Phoebe were standing here? 3 Phoebe was a scholarship student sponsored by the Sinclair family. Two months before the college entrance exams, she was brought to the city for intensive training. She was a few years younger than Wesley and me. While I was studying abroad, I frequently heard rumors about her from our mutual friends. "You know Wesley's temper, right? He actually let that girl into his private study." "I heard he drove her to her university dorms himself last week." "Felix and I teased her a bit when we saw them together, and Wesley looked like he wanted to murder us on the spot." "She talks back to him constantly at his house, and he never even gets mad." "Are you serious? If I spoke to him like that, he'd throw me out the window." The rumors were vivid. Through their descriptions, I painted a picture of Phoebe in my mind: bright, outspoken, and entirely unbothered by Wesley's intimidating reputation. She was like a wild blossom, full of vibrant energy. Wesley had never had anyone like that in his life. At least, I was nothing like that. I could understand the appeal she held for him. It was the same way Wesley had once brought color into my quiet life. I had once asked Wesley about her over a text message. He had replied briefly: [She's nobody. My parents are sponsoring her education, and she stays at the estate occasionally. I have to go, I'm busy.] He didn't care to waste words on her. But her special status required no explanation; his silent indulgence had already made their relationship an open secret in our social circle. After returning to the country, I ran into Phoebe. Seeing me for the first time, she showed no nervousness. Instead, she walked up to me with a bright, easy smile. "You must be Jas," she said, her voice light and cheerful. "Wesley talks about you sometimes. He says you're very sweet and gentle." She paused, offering a casual giggle. "But he also mentioned that you can be a bit boring sometimes." She wasn't wrong. I was indeed the designated "good girl" of our circle. Under my family's careful guidance, I had lived a predictable life, studying, traveling, and painting. Wesley loved racing, hiking, skiing, and all kinds of extreme sports. I preferred painting, reading, and flower arrangement. Our lives had no natural overlap. If we hadn't grown up together, he probably wouldn't have spared me a second glance. I offered a gentle smile. "Boring is a fair description. He's not the first to say so." Phoebe blinked, clearly caught off guard by my easy admission. During my visit to the Sinclair estate, the living room was filled with their playful bickering. Mostly, it was Phoebe's voice. "Wesley, you can't even tell the difference between scallions and chives?!" Wesley sighed in annoyance. "Does it look like I care?" Phoebe stepped closer, looking up at him with a grin. "Of course you should care! If you can't even recognize basic ingredients, how are you going to feed yourself in the future?" "I have a chef for that." Phoebe smirked. "Don't you ever want to move out and live on your own? To cook your own meals and have some real freedom? Or do you plan on being a pampered prince forever?" Wesley was rebellious at heart, craving freedom more than anything. Everyone knew it, but Phoebe was the only one brave enough to say it to his face. Sure enough, Wesley's expression darkened, a clear sign of his rising temper. But before I could intervene, Phoebe spoke up again. "Tell you what, you can always come crash at my place in the future." She laughed, her eyes crinkling. "Since your family pays for my tuition, the least I can do is cook for you. Feeding one extra mouth won't ruin me." Wesley fell silent, momentarily speechless. She knew exactly how to push his buttons and then pull him back. Later that day, on our drive back to her school, we passed a bridal boutique. Phoebe peered out the window, sighing wistfully. "So beautiful... especially that mermaid gown." Wesley leaned his head back, his voice careless. "It's average. Off-the-rack stuff can't compare to high fashion." Phoebe looked down, disappointed. "I still want to wear a beautiful mermaid gown one day." Wesley frowned, glancing at me briefly in the rearview mirror. He didn't say anything, but from that day on, a subtle shift occurred at the Sinclair estate. Whenever Wesley was scolded by his father, Phoebe was always there to comfort him. Sometimes she brought him fruit; other times she sat on the floor outside his study to keep him company during his grounding. During the winter break, when Wesley returned from university, Phoebe begged him to take her skiing, claiming she had never seen snow before. Although a whole group of us ended up going, I sat inside the lodge clutching a warm cup of tea, watching them slide down the slopes. A quiet voice echoed in my head: Jasmine, do you really think there's still a place for you in his heart? The day he called off our engagement, he drove me to my villa. When we were alone in the car, I finally gathered the courage to ask the question that had been haunting me. "Are you calling this off because of someone else?" Wesley stiffened. He looked down, his brow furrowing. "Jas." It had been a long time since he had called me by my nickname. "I don't want to hurt you." I don't want to hurt you. That was his answer. That was the conclusion to my five years of silent adoration. 4 On the day of the wedding, I only managed two hours of sleep. I was terrified that this was all a beautiful dream, and that when I woke up, I would find nothing but a pillow soaked with my own tears. "Jas, did you not sleep well?" Wesley's mother held my hand, her eyes filled with concern. She glanced over at Wesley, who was busy chatting with his groomsmen, and lowered her voice. "Jas, I need to tell you something. Don't panic." I kept my expression serene, offering a soft smile. "Go ahead, Aunt Eleanor." She sighed, her face tight with anxiety. "Felix's family contacted me yesterday. They saw Phoebe at the airport." "I verified the flight logs. It's her. She's back in the country." The air around me seemed to turn to ice. My mind went blank, and the words caught in my throat. Seeing my silence, Eleanor quickly squeezed my hand. "Don't worry, Jas. Wesley doesn't remember anything right now. You are the only one he recognizes. And you are the only daughter-in-law the Sinclairs will ever accept." My throat felt dry as bone. I looked over at Wesley. He was laughing with Felix and Zach, his ears flushing red at whatever joke they were sharing. "Felix and Zach are keeping it from him too," Eleanor whispered. "None of them will mention her name in front of Wesley." Her expression turned sour as she continued. "I gave her four million dollars back then, and she signed the agreement. Why on earth is she coming back now, right when you two are getting married? What is she trying to pull?" The truth about Phoebe was something we all knew. Except for Wesley. When Eleanor first noticed Phoebe's intentions, she had confronted her. To her surprise, Phoebe didn't even try to deny it. She brazenly admitted that she liked Wesley and believed that, given his indulgence, winning him over completely would be easy. Her arrogance had caused a massive stir in the Sinclair household. Eleanor was so furious she nearly had a heart attack, and Wesley's father immediately arranged for Phoebe's transfer out of her school. But Phoebe had threatened them. "I already have a place in Wesley's heart. He defends me, drives me around, and fights his friends for me. Have you ever seen him do that for anyone else? If I suddenly disappear, what do you think he will do? He's your son, you know his temper best." Eleanor had swallowed her anger and negotiated a price. At the time, my family's relationship with the Sinclairs was strained due to the canceled engagement, and my father was preparing to pull his investments from their joint projects. To resolve the issue quickly, Eleanor had offered six million dollars to make Phoebe disappear. Phoebe took the money and left, sending Wesley a single farewell text claiming she was going abroad to study with her boyfriend. She then blocked all his contact information right in front of them. Of course, I only found out about all of this later. At the time, Phoebe had reached out to me, crying over a voice message, sounding incredibly weak and victimized. She claimed the Sinclairs had ruthlessly thrown her out because of their greed and obsession with social status. She said she had nowhere to go and was forced to cut ties with Wesley. "Jas, I know you're the sweetest person. I don't have parents like you do, I only have my grandmother, and she's too old to help me. Can you please do me a favor and pass a message to Wesley? Tell him I'll be back in two years. Tell him not to worry, and ask him to wait for me." I realized later that she only came to me because Eleanor had cut the agreed amount from six million to four million at the last second. To everyone, I was the gentle, obedient girl who could never say no. Phoebe believed that even when it came to her rival, I would be kind enough to help. I stared at the message she wanted me to deliver. Tell him I will definitely come back for him after graduation. I pressed down on the text, and after two seconds, the option appeared. Without a shred of hesitation, I hit delete. That was the very first time in my life that I did something against my conscience. But I never expected Wesley to have a car accident that very night. He was carried into the emergency room drenched in blood, slipping into a deep coma. Perhaps he had caught wind of her departure and was racing to the airport to stop her. Or perhaps he just wanted to see her one last time. Either way, on the night of my birthday, Wesley lost his memory. When he opened his eyes three days later, the first name he called out wasn't his parents'. He asked, "Where is Jasmine?" He had forgotten everything. He forgot the scholarship student who had lived in his house, forgot her name, forgot how he had protected her, and forgot that he had wanted to call off our engagement. In his mind, I was his childhood sweetheart, his only love, and his destined wife. Under the collective silent agreement of our families, our entire social circle chose to keep the secret. Phoebe was completely erased from Wesley's world. Felix and Zach had sat down with me to make sure we were all on the same page. "From now on, Jasmine Croft is the only girl Wesley has ever loved." I didn't reject the lie. That was my second mistake. With everyone reinforcing the narrative, Wesley believed it completely. He was convinced of his deep devotion to me, insisting on moving our wedding forward. And I agreed. That was my third mistake. "Jasmine Croft, do you take Wesley Sinclair to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?" The officiant's voice pulled me back to reality. Beneath the gaze of our families and guests, I swallowed the bitterness in my throat and nodded. "I do." Applause erupted in the chapel. Wesley noticed my tension and gently squeezed my hand under the folds of my gown, silently mouthing the words: Don't be scared. My eyelashes fluttered, and I forced a small smile. The officiant turned his gaze to Wesley. "Wesley Sinclair, do you take Jasmine Croft to be your wedded wife..." Wesley smiled, answering almost before the officiant could finish. "I do." More applause swept through the hall. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Wesley's parents smiling with relief, while my own parents had tears glistening in their eyes. The officiant offered a warm smile, gesturing to Wesley. "You may exchange the rings." Wesley carefully lifted the ring from its velvet box. It was a custom three-stone pink diamond ring, with our birthstones delicately integrated into the band. It held the promise of our future, along with the weight of my five years of silent longing. But just as the metal was about to slip over my ring finger, the heavy doors of the chapel were flung open. Someone rushed inside, breathless and frantic. "Wesley! She's a liar!" Phoebe stumbled down the aisle, her eyes red, tears streaming down her pale face. "They all lied to you while you lost your memory! Jasmine stole my place! The one you actually love... is me!" A collective gasp echoed through the room. Wesley stared at the crying girl, then looked at his parents, who had turned pale but were trying to maintain their composure. He looked at his friends, whose faces were filled with awkward guilt. Even without his memories, he could tell that everyone had been keeping a massive secret from him. Finally, Wesley's gaze landed on me. He frowned, his lips parting as he spoke in a low, tight voice. "Jas." "What is going on?"
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