Chapter 1
On our fifth anniversary, my husband, Samuel Reed, calls from his lecture hall, breathless with a "heart episode," ordering me to bring his medication.
I drop everything, bolting from a meeting with a furious client to race to his side.
However, I see him strolling with a pretty undergrad, his hand resting on her waist.
He's smiling at her with a gentle affection I'd never known.
This isn't the first time.
"System," I whisper, awakening the dormant program in my mind. "You see it, don't you? No matter what I do, I can't complete the mission to win his heart.
"Just let me go."
The System sighs, reminding me my body in the original world is gone, but it can grant me one final wish.
I look at the two of them.
"Fine," I declare calmly. "Then erase him. Erase every memory I have of Samuel."
*****
The System was as good as its word.
When I came to, a sharp pain shot through my head.
I staggered forward and fell into an embrace that smelled of pine cologne.
"Luna Hart, how the hell does it take you this long to deliver some pills?"
The man in front of me pushed me away with obvious disgust, his perfect brows knitting together in irritation.
"Thank God Emily keeps my meds on hand. If something had happened to me, could you even handle the guilt?"
When I stayed silent, his tone softened slightly.
"Emily and I still have some academic matters to discuss. If you're done here, just go home. Be good."
I stood frozen.
I stared at the unfamiliar face, frowning in confusion.
"I'm sorry," I asked, "do I know you?"
Samuel Reed's face darkened instantly. He muttered a quick "wait for me" to the girl, Emily Lane, and grabbed my wrist to drag me under the shade of a large oak tree.
He hissed, "Luna, what is this now?
"Just because I put my arm around Emily, you're playing amnesia again?
"I'm warning you, there's a limit. Pull this stunt too many times, and it stops being cute and just gets annoying."
He lowered his voice, his grip tightening painfully.
I winced, pulling back.
"I seriously have no idea what you're talking about."
Shock flickered across his face before he laughed coldly.
"Whatever. But I'm warning you, our mentor is on campus today for a guest lecture today. Emily and I will both be there. So for God's sake, don't make a scene."
He shoved my hand away and stalked back toward Emily with a livid face.
The System informed me that Samuel and I were married.
If I didn't want to stay with him, I could simply file for divorce.
I didn't agree immediately.
Back at what was supposedly our home, I found a photo on the nightstand.
I gazed at the camera with lovesick eyes.
But Samuel frowned, clearly impatient.
Inexplicably irritated, I tossed the frame straight into the trash.
My phone buzzed with a new message.
Samuel: [The professor is taking Emily and me to dinner. Won't be home tonight.]
I didn't reply. Instead, I scrolled through our chat history.
I realized with a dawning sense of disgust that he barely ever responded to my messages.
Most of my messages had earned a bare "okay" or "fine."
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. Seriously, what did I ever see in that guy?
After a long shower, I sprawled on the couch, put my feet up, and ordered myself a takeout.
While waiting for it to arrive, I scrolled through my social media feed.
A new post from Emily popped up.
The caption read: [Candlelit dinner with my senior! Does this count as a date?]
The comments were already rolling in from our mutual friends.
[LOL, did you block Luna? If she sees this, she's gonna lose it again.]
Clearly, "she" was me.
I smirked and defiantly liked the post.
A second later, my phone buzzed with a text from Samuel.
Samuel: [My mentor had to cancel last minute. It's just a normal dinner with Emily. Can you please not make a scene?]
Luna: [OK.]
I tossed my phone aside to get the door for the delivery driver. While I was gone, it started vibrating nonstop.
Annoyed, I just turned it off.
Half an hour later, Samuel burst through the door, breathless.
"Why weren't you answering my calls?"
I just stared at him blankly.
"I was busy."
He seemed completely thrown by my simple answer.
He took a deep, steadying breath, visibly trying to control his anger.
"When you didn't pick up, I thought you were trying to kill yourself again."
His voice was strained. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?"
Again?
The System helpfully informed me that the "old me" frequently resorted to self-harm as a desperate plea for his attention.
"Won't happen again," I said dismissively, turning my attention back to the movie I was watching.
He bent down, snatched the remote from my hand, and clicked the TV off.
"Luna, this isn't like you."
He looked at me with suspicion.
"The old you would have seen that post and been screaming at me by now.
"Why are you so calm?"