Chapter 1
When Julian Preston walked into Preston Manor hand-in-hand with Sophie Grant, Emily Carter was sitting by the bay window in the living room, knitting a tiny blue bootie for the baby.
The afternoon sunlight streamed through the glass, casting a warm glow over her rounded belly, where a baby five months along was growing peacefully.
She looked up just as Julian stepped inside, accompanied by a striking, glamorous woman she had never seen before.
Julian glanced at Emily as coldly as if she were a piece of stray furniture.
"Mom, Dad," Julian said flatly, his voice carrying an edge of absolute finality. "This is Sophie Grant. She's the woman I love."
He paused, his grip tightening on Sophie's hand. "She's pregnant. I'll be filing for divorce from Emily as soon as possible."
The air in the room seemed to freeze. An icy chill rushed in, suffocating the warmth of the sun.
The knitting needles slipped from Emily's numb fingers, hitting the hardwood floor with a sharp clatter before rolling to a stop right against the toe of Julian's polished leather shoes.
Julian's mother gasped, clutching her chest, while her husband surged to his feet, his face darkening with rage.
"Julian, have you lost your mind? Emily is your wife. She's carrying your child."
Julian frowned, looking annoyed by the drama. "I don't remember her," he replied coldly. "The crash wiped everything. When I woke up, the only person I knew was Sophie. The doctors called it selective amnesia. There's a chance I'll never get those memories back."
Sophie leaned into his side, her hand protectively shielding her own stomach. Her posture was fragile, yet she carried the quiet smugness of a victor.
She looked at Emily, a flicker of pity and triumph dancing in her eyes.
"Julian only trusts me now," Sophie murmured. "I'm sorry, Ms. Carter. Truly."
*****
Emily felt a sharp, subtle twinge in her abdomen and instinctively pressed her hand against it.
She stared at Julian, the man she had loved for seven years, but all she saw now was a stranger.
The Julian who used to kiss her forehead and press his ear to her belly to listen for the baby's movements was gone.
"You really don't remember anything," Emily asked, her voice trembling like a rusted string. "You don't remember how we met, or how happy you were on our wedding day, or even..."
Her fingers tightened around the soft fabric of the sweater, touching the life within her. "Do you really not remember how much you wanted this baby?" she whispered.
Julian fixed his eyes on her belly for a long, quiet beat. His stare was searching, puzzled, yet utterly devoid of tenderness.
"I feel nothing," he finally said, looking away as he wrapped an arm around Sophie's shoulder. "In my memory, Sophie is the only person I want to spend my life with."
Right on cue, Sophie let out a soft moan, her brow furrowing.
"What is it?" Julian asked, his voice instantly shifting to a tone of deep concern.
"I feel a bit lightheaded. Maybe I've been standing too long," Sophie murmured, leaning her weight into him.
"I'll help you upstairs to rest," Julian said without hesitation, as though the living room were empty. He completely disregarded everyone else present.
He guided Sophie toward the stairs, passing Emily without a single pause in his stride.
The pain in Emily's abdomen flared again, sharper than before. She leaned against the windowsill to steady herself, her fingertips feeling ice cold.
She watched their retreating figures, the man being meticulously careful and the woman moving with a graceful ease, looking for all the world like a perfect couple.
Meanwhile, she felt like a redundant extra who had accidentally wandered into someone else's happy ending, clumsy and unnecessary.
Gemma Preston, Julian's mother, rushed over to support Emily, her eyes brimming with tears. "Emily, please don't get upset. It is not good for the baby," Gemma pleaded. "Julian is just sick. He will remember you."
Julian's father, Matthew Preston, was shaking with rage, pointing toward the stairs. "That boy is a fool. An absolute fool," he spat.