Chapter 1

Edward Grant lost his memory in a car accident. He forgot me—his pregnant wife—and remembered only his first love, Isabelle White.

He held her in his arms, called her his wife, and thrust divorce papers in my face, telling me to get the hell out.

I signed. Then I walked into the hospital, staged a fatal accident for myself and the baby, and disappeared for good.

Three years later, Edward got his memory back—and tore the world apart looking for me.

He never guessed that the boy waiting outside his office every day, hugging an Ultraman and calling him "Daddy," was our son.

When Edward finally found me, his eyes were red-rimmed and desperate. "Where's our child?" he growled.

I replied, calm as ever, "He's gone. You killed him the day you forced me out with those divorce papers."

*****

The sharp scent of disinfectant pierced my nose as I steadied myself against the wall, a constant, dragging ache twisting in my lower abdomen.

My phone screen was crowded with dozens of unread messages I'd sent to Edward.

The last message was from half an hour ago.

[Edward, my abdomen hurts. The doctor says there's a risk I might miscarry. You need to come to the hospital.]

He didn't reply.

I knew he wouldn't.

Because just moments ago, my best friend, Sophie Lane, had sent me a photo.

Outside the emergency room at Central City Hospital, Edward was holding his fragile first love, Isabelle. He looked worried sick, his suit jacket wrapped around her shoulders.

Meanwhile, I, his wife, was alone in the obstetrics ward of another hospital, enduring the pain of contractions.

How ironic.

The pain in my abdomen kept coming in waves, cold sweat prickling my forehead. I had to brace myself against the wall and slowly slid down to the floor.

Just then, a shadow loomed over me.

I struggled to lift my head and saw Edward's handsome but icy face.

He was here.

Before I could even feel a hint of happiness, his next words crushed it instantly.

"Emma, we're getting divorced," Edward said coldly.

The disgust and impatience in his eyes were like an ice-cold blade, stabbing right through my heart.

I stared at him, feeling my blood freeze in an instant. A chill raced up from my toes, leaving me numb all over.

My lips moved, but no sound came out.

He didn't even bother waiting for my response. He yanked a document from his briefcase and tossed it in front of me.

"Sign it. The villa's yours, and I'll give you 15 million dollars. From now on, stay out of my life—and don't go near Izzy."

Black and white. Divorce papers. The words seared my eyes.

So, he wasn't here for me.

He came for Isabelle—just to make a clean break from me.

I lowered my head, vision blurry, and noticed a faint stain of blood on his pricey shoes.

Was it Isabelle's, or his?

I'd heard he was drag racing to stand up for Isabelle and ended up crashing.

He lost his memory.

He forgot everything—our three years of marriage, all the vows he made chasing after me, swearing he'd never let me go.

The only one left in his memory was Isabelle.

The woman he'd treasured—his first love, the one he had to let go because of a family marriage deal.

Now, with his memory wiped clean, nothing was holding him back from being together with his true love.

And me? I was just the evil obstacle in their love story, keeping them apart.

The pain in my lower belly crashed over me again, even worse than before.

I doubled over, my face ghostly pale, my whole body shaking as I stammered, "Edward, I'm pregnant... It's our baby..."

"A baby?" He let out a cruel smirk, like he'd just told the world's funniest joke. "Emma, what game are you playing now? I never even touched you. How could you possibly have my kid? Trying to pin some bastard on me?"

It felt like my heart was being crushed in a vice, the agony so sharp I could barely breathe.

I grabbed his pant leg, using every bit of strength I had to look up at him, searching his face for any sign of the man I used to love.

But there was nothing.

Just that icy, unfamiliar glare—so full of hate it felt like poison.

"Edward... look at me, please. Do you really... not remember anything?"

He kicked my hand away like it was something filthy.

"All I know is, Izzy almost lost the baby because of you. Emma, how could you be so cruel?" he spat.

I froze.

Isabelle was pregnant too?

So he'd rather believe Isabelle was carrying his child than accept that the baby I was carrying was his own flesh and blood.

Yeah, people with amnesia only trust what they want to—facts don't matter.

And me? I wasn't even on his list of people he'd ever trust.

The last flicker of hope in my heart went out for good.

The pain almost made me faint, but I knew I had to stay strong.

I braced myself against the cold wall and slowly got to my feet.

I met his eyes, my voice steady and clear. "Edward, I never did anything to hurt Isabelle. I would never—never—stoop so low as to fool you with someone else's child."

I picked up the divorce papers from the floor and flipped to the last page.

There, Edward's signature was scrawled across the page, bold and rushed, like he couldn't wait to get rid of me.

I grabbed the pen and, without a second thought, signed my name at the bottom.

Emma Reed.

Every stroke steady and clear.

When I finished, I handed the papers to him.

"As you wish," I said.