Ethan Hayes—the one man in New York City with enough gravitational pull to bend the world to his will—crashed his car. Totaled it. And when he woke up, his memory had reset, stopping the clock three years in the past. He found me, his face a mask of irritation. "So I had dinner with my ex. Is that it? How long are you going to keep this up?" I just stared at him. For a moment, the world tilted. Then, I bent down and lifted the little girl hiding behind my legs. Through his shocked silence, I found my voice, quiet but steady. “Ethan, we broke up three years ago.” I let the words hang in the air between us. “I’m… I’m married now. I have a daughter.” 1 I was propped up in bed, scrolling through my phone after finally getting my daughter, Maya, to sleep. That’s when the news alert popped up. “February 17, 9:00 PM: Ethan Hayes, Chairman and CEO of Sterling Corp, was involved in a single-vehicle collision in Lower Manhattan. He has been transported to Mount Sinai with what sources report as a severe head trauma and is currently unconscious. For developing details, follow MetroPulse News…” The thumbnail was a picture of a Bugatti, crumpled like a discarded piece of foil. The next photo showed Ethan, head bloodied, being lifted onto a stretcher. Even unconscious, his brow was furrowed in that perpetually frustrated way I knew so well. A strange sense of vertigo washed over me. I hadn’t seen the man in three years. The memories—the whispered intimacies, the gut-wrenching sobs that felt like they would tear me apart—I once believed they were branded onto my soul. But a thousand days is a long time. Long enough for a scar to fade, for a ghost to become a stranger. I closed my eyes, ready to put my phone down and surrender to sleep, when a series of violent bangs echoed from my front door. BAM. BAM. BAM. My first thought was Maya. I slid out of bed, terrified the noise would wake her, and hurried to the living room. I peered through the peephole and my blood ran cold. Ethan. A white bandage was wrapped around his head, already seeping red at the edges. His face was twisted with impatience. “Audrey, open the damn door!” his voice, muffled but unmistakable, came through the wood. “I know you’re in there. The doorman told me!” My mind was a chaotic swirl. I felt myself unlock the door before I’d even made a conscious decision. “You were just in an accident,” I stammered as he pushed past me. “How are you even—” He moved through my apartment like he owned it, his gaze snagging for a split second on a pair of men's slippers by the door before moving on. “It’s freezing,” he griped, shoving his designer coat into my hands. “What the hell are you doing in a shithole like this? The penthouse I got you? What, you forgot the address?” The sheer, casual entitlement of it all stunned me into silence. The last time I saw him, three years ago, our breakup had been spectacularly ugly. His face had been a thundercloud, his eyes drilling into me with a look so venomous I thought he might actually kill me. “Audrey,” he’d snarled, “you and your little boyfriend better stay the hell away from me. I can’t guarantee what will happen to him if you don’t.” Now, he acted as if none of that had ever happened. He sank into my sofa, patted the cushion next to him, and looked up at me from under his lashes with that familiar, careless air. “Come here.” The warm, dim light of the lamp softened him, but his eyes were the same—slightly upturned, sharp with a cutting edge that on anyone else would look cruel. But on his impossibly handsome face, it just looked like rebellious confidence. I took a step back, my brow furrowing. “What are you doing here, Ethan? We broke up.” He let out a short, derisive laugh. “Come on. You think I don’t know you?” He studied my face. “You’ve been home crying again the last couple of days, haven’t you?” “That’s enough.” He waved a dismissive hand, his patience already fraying. “So I took Amelia to the hospital. Are you really going to be this petty about it?” When I didn’t move, Ethan’s jaw tightened. He stood, closed the distance between us, and pulled me toward him. His hand, all long fingers and prominent knuckles, came to rest on my stomach. His voice softened, laced with a tenderness that made my skin crawl. “I know. You’re pregnant, your hormones are all over the place, right?” He looked into my eyes. “If you want this baby so badly, then we’ll keep it. I’ve already picked out names. If it’s a boy, we’ll call him Julian. If it’s a girl…” That’s when it finally clicked. The puzzle pieces of his bizarre behavior slammed into place. The Ethan standing in front of me, the words he was saying… they were from three years ago. I grabbed his wrist, my voice catching in my throat. “Ethan… do you have amnesia?” He paused, then shrugged it off. “That’s what they’re all saying. Total bullshit. My head’s a little fuzzy, but it’s nothing important. You can fill me in on the details later.” He pulled me into an embrace, his head tilted up, his eyes filled with a look of pure adoration, as if the last three years had been nothing but a bad dream. I pushed him away, fighting to keep my voice even. “Ethan, we already broke up. I—” He cut me off, the warmth vanishing from his face. “Audrey, don’t push it.” A smirk played on his lips, dripping with the arrogance I remembered so well. “You really think I’d believe that? You’ve been by my side for years. If you were going to leave, you would have done it already.” He leaned in, his voice a low, confident whisper. “You can’t leave me.” Just then, a small sound from the hallway. The click of a doorknob turning. I shoved Ethan away, hard. My daughter emerged, rubbing her sleepy eyes, a well-loved stuffed rabbit clutched in her hand. “Mommy?” Her tiny brow wrinkled as she looked at the strange man in our living room. “Who is he?”
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "385928", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel