Chapter 4

Jeremy acted like he didn't hear a word I said, still blocking my way, his eyes full of hurt and stubbornness. "Maggie, maybe you think I'm not good-looking enough, or my family isn't rich, but my feelings for you are real! Just give me one chance, and I'll show you how much I'm into you!"

I was speechless. Did he not understand what I said, or was he stuck in his own little world?

And another thing...

"Jeremy, I'm married," I said, lifting my left hand. Even though there was no ring, I had to keep my confidence up. "Why are you chasing after a married woman? You wanna be the side guy and wreck my family?"

Jeremy looked stunned for a moment, then snorted like I'd just cracked the world's dumbest joke. "You're married? Margaret, at least make it sound convincing, will you? You? Married? Come on, everyone at work knows you're single. If you want to reject me, you don't have to come up with such a lame excuse!"

It turned out even my coworkers had no clue I was married. Wow, I seriously kept this under wraps. What the hell was I up to before I lost my memory?

When I was at a loss for words and things were getting super awkward, a familiar black car pulled up to the curb. The door opened, and there was Quentin, looking all handsome and stuff.

My savior had arrived!

My eyes lit up, and I didn't even bother arguing with Jeremy anymore. I hurried over to the car, yanked the door open, and pulled Quentin out just as he was about to get out. Then I dragged him right in front of Jeremy, lifting my chin like I was telling everyone he was mine. "See? Take a good look! Don't believe I'm married? Well, this is my real, legal husband!"

Quentin hadn't seen this coming and paused for a split second. But the moment he caught sight of Jeremy's cocky expression, he instantly caught on. He slipped his arm around my shoulders, gazing at me with gentle eyes and a fond, almost doting smile tugging at his lips.

I honestly thought pulling out my ace—Quentin—would finally make Jeremy give up. Just in terms of looks alone, Quentin left him in the dust.

But Jeremy just gave Quentin a quick once-over, then let out a dismissive snort and looked at me, even more convinced than before. "Margaret, are you kidding me? He's your husband? Come on, quit the act! That's obviously your childhood friend, Quentin! He's like an elder brother to you! You brought him to the office before and told us yourself—he's your childhood friend!"

"What?" My mind went blank, and I was completely lost.

Did I tell everyone Quentin was just my childhood friend before?

The next second, Quentin's face turned cold. He released me, grabbed Jeremy by the collar, and, giving him no chance to argue, hauled him straight toward a nearby alley. "You, come with me."

"Hey! Quentin!" I called out, worried.

"Maggie, just wait here. Don't move. I'll be right back," Quentin said, turning to give me a reassuring smile, though there was something in it I couldn't quite read—something a little... menacing.

And just like that, the two of them disappeared into the alley.

Childhood friend? Did I really tell my coworkers that Quentin was just my childhood friend? So what about the marriage licence we got? Was I overthinking this? Maybe we were secretly married or something... No way, my parents knew about us!

I stood there for what felt like forever, my brain just a scrambled mess.

When Quentin finally showed up again, he looked put together. His clothes were neat, and not a single hair was out of place. But Jeremy? He never came out of that alley.

"Wait, you, you didn't rough him up or anything, did you?" I asked, a bit uneasy. Jeremy might be a pain in the ass, but he didn't deserve to get beaten up.

"Come on, of course not," Quentin replied, sounding super chill. "We just had a little heart-to-heart. I helped him get a reality check. That's all."

"Alright then," I said. If that was how he put it, what else could I say?

On the way back, I couldn't hold it in anymore and blurted out, "Um... Jeremy said I used to tell everyone at work you were just my childhood friend. Is that true?" I felt a little awkward even asking.

Quentin's fingers curled almost imperceptibly around the steering wheel before he quickly composed himself. He shot me a deep, unreadable look. "Maggie, are you starting to doubt what we have? Sure, you might've lost your memory for now, but the marriage certificate with the city hall stamp on it—that's not something you can fake, right?"

Well, he did have a point. That marriage certificate was sitting right there as proof.