Chapter 1

The night before our wedding, a freak car accident turned my fiancé into a complete stranger—cold, distant, and with no memory of me whatsoever.

The doctor explained it was damage to his central nervous system, and the only cure was to stimulate his brain and coax those lost memories back to the surface.

I swallowed it all, hook, line, and sinker.

Coming home early from work, I caught the sound of teasing voices drifting from the bedroom—like a slap across the face.

"Elwood, you're a genius! Faking your own crash and bribing some quack doctor—now even if you went totally wild right up to the wedding, Justine would forgive you in a heartbeat!"

Their laughter exploded, freezing me in my tracks. I couldn't make sense of it—my brain just short-circuited.

It was all an elaborate con, masterminded by Elwood Matthews.

You love your little games, don't you? Let's see if trading our wedding for a funeral packs enough of a punch.

Outside the door, I slowly let go of the handle, my hand falling limp as every ounce of strength drained from my body.

The last thread of rationality in my mind whispered: listen. Hear what Elwood has to say.

Inside, the laughter rolled on.

"Right, Elwood, how long are you gonna keep this charade going before snapping back to normal?"

Elwood's voice came out in a lazy drawl. "A month. On our wedding day, I'll head back to Justine's side and resume being her devoted, one-and-only husband."

His words drew surprised glances from his buddies.

"Isn't that cutting it too short? You've already hooked up with so many influencers—a single month won't be nearly enough!" one griped.

"Why not just dump her? All this hassle to keep it from Justine... don't ditch the whole forest for one tree," another suggested.

"Elwood, you chased her for three years, dated for seven—that's a full decade. If she catches wind of this little escapade and it all blows up, wouldn't you lose everything?" someone else worried aloud.

The chaotic banter swirled around until Elwood finally wiped the grin off his face. He swirled the wine in his glass, his voice steady and firm.

But to me, eavesdropping from the other side of the door, that firmness was nothing short of laughable.

"I'll never split with Justine. She's the only one I love. It's just... after ten years together, things have gone flat. She's too uptight—our life lacks any real excitement."

He paused before adding, "Consider this my last hurrah before the wedding. I'll reclaim all the youthful fun I missed out on over those ten years. Once the month's up, I'll 'miraculously remember' her right there at the ceremony—talk about the surprise of a lifetime, right?"

"Genius—pure genius!" The speaker pivoted. "But what if it backfires and everything comes out?"

Elwood didn't bat an eye.

He let out a soft chuckle and drawled, "Who else would Justine ever marry? She's mine, in life or death. No matter how far she flees—to the ends of the earth—I'll haul her back."

So overbearing. Just what you'd expect from the heir to the Matthews Group. His friends threw up thumbs-ups, hailing him as a total badass.

What they said next shattered every last perception I had of them, one word at a time.

Thunder cracked, and a torrential downpour unleashed outside.

I staggered out of the villa in a daze.

I knew I wasn't supposed to be there—they hadn't counted on me returning early.

As I plunged into the rain, fat drops smacked against my face, freezing cold. But they paled compared to the ice gripping my heart.

My hands shook, my vision swam—not from the rain, but from the flood of tears.

Dust-covered memories burst forth, crashing over me like waves.

Elwood and I first crossed paths in high school—at the freshman orientation gala, to be exact.

I closed out the show with my dance performance of "Startling Swan," leaving the audience in awe.

Afterward, he cornered me backstage, bouquet of roses in hand, and boldly announced he was going to win me over.

Back then, Elwood's rep around school was trash, so I shot him down without a second thought.

But he clung to me like a shadow, impossible to shake.

When I got sick, he nursed me with endless care; he made grand, public declarations of love in front of the entire school; he picked jealous fights that landed him in trouble—coming out all black and blue, which was equal parts ridiculous and endearing... until it finally melted my defenses.

He promised eternal love for me alone, with one caveat: from then on, my dances would be for his eyes only.

I said yes.

Word spread like wildfire that the notorious playboy Elwood had reformed for true love. I bought into it hook, line, and sinker.

That was, until the car crash just before our wedding. When he came to, he was like a stranger—denying I was even his fiancée and cozying up to a parade of women.

I didn't hold it against him; head injuries took time to heal, after all.

If only I'd known the accident, the doctors—every bit of it—was a sham. A meticulously crafted lie so he could cheat openly, without a shred of remorse.

In that moment, the grit and belief that had sustained me shattered into pieces.