Chapter 1

After two months of Julia Winters's unexplained silent treatment, I was diagnosed with a rare condition.

It started the night she chose Samuel Pierce's party over our tenth anniversary.

I forgot to pick her up—something I had never done—and just went to bed.

Then, a month ago, she abandoned me on the highway after receiving a call from Samuel.

I walked home, made dinner, and only realized I'd forgotten how much she hated scallions when I saw her frown.

Days later, she finally called. Her voice was cold.

She said, "Ethan, Samuel's just like a brother to me. Stop being so damn jealous.

"And this disappearing act? Come home and cook. I'll let it slide this time."

I paused, confused about where the "home" was.

I wondered if we ever really had one in this whole city.

I couldn't remember.

And I didn't say a word.

She let out a long sigh. "Where are you? I'll come pick you up."

I sent her my location, and before long, a bunch of rides showed up right in front of me.

For a moment, I couldn't tell which one was Julia's.

Then a black Porsche Cayenne horn blared at me, and its window slid down.

"Ethan, over here," Julia called out.

I climbed in, a couple of raindrops still clinging to my shoulder. She leaned over with a handkerchief and wiped them away.

She teased, "I thought you always remembered my plates.

"You could tell it was me just by the horn. What happened to you today?"

Did I really ever have that kind of intuition? I had no idea.

While Julia gave me the silent treatment, I found that my memory kept getting worse, but somehow, it was only the moments about her that just started slipping away.

I went to the hospital, and that was when I learned the truth: her falling out of love was messing me up so badly that I'd developed stress-induced amnesia.

Piece by piece, the memories of us—how we used to be in love—were just fading out.

I replied calmly, "I forgot."

Julia's tone changed, and her knuckles whitened as she gripped the steering wheel.

She said, "So did you actually forget, or are you just mad at me, still holding a grudge because I left you on the highway that day to help Samuel?

"Come on, we grew up together. He's always been like a little brother to me. If there were ever supposed to be something more, don't you think it would've happened years ago?"

I pulled out the doctor's diagnosis from my bag, set it on the center console, and said quietly, "I'm sick. My memories are slipping away."

We got home pretty quickly. Julia looked all business as she picked up the report and studied it closely.

After a second, her whole body just sagged, and she let out a resigned sigh.

She smiled, "So you made up this illness just because you're jealous and want me to pay more attention to you, huh?

"Honestly, if you're gonna lie, at least think of something believable. Stress-induced amnesia? Seriously, no one's falling for that."

I just froze, totally baffled. I couldn't figure out why she didn't believe it.

The diagnosis wasn't just some random paper. It was from a top-tier hospital, complete with the fancy stamp and the expert's own signature.

I looked up at Julia's face—the one I'd known for ten years. It was so familiar, yet I could tell her heart had changed.

Once, I accidentally brought home a fake medical report from a murder-mystery dinner party. It said I had "narcolepsy," and Julia found it.

Her eyes immediately welled up with tears, and she started pulling every string she had in the medical world, calling top specialists to try to get me treated.

I just laughed and told her it was a prop—that the diagnosis was obviously fake.

But she just wouldn't relax, dragging me to the hospital for a full-body checkup.

She only breathed a real sigh of relief once the doctor said I was perfectly fine.

Julia's love—and how easily it turned cold—was just so blatantly obvious.

The second I let the memory in, it hit me right in the chest.

My heart clenched, and I couldn't catch my breath.

It took me a long minute to feel alive again.

But there was still a hole inside me. Every time I thought about her, it stung.

Julia reached into her pocket, pulled out a velvet box, and gently took out a pair of sparkling cufflinks.

"Look, the custom cufflinks I ordered for you finally arrived, all the way from abroad," she said.

Indeed, the cufflinks were specially ordered and made just for me.

But when I glanced at them, I instantly felt something was off.

"Wait, weren't we supposed to have a blue diamond in the center? How'd it end up green?" I asked.

Deep down, I figured she was telling me I was green with envy.

Julia suddenly seemed flustered, hurrying to fasten the cufflinks onto my sleeve.

"This green diamond is so bright and clear—just like your eyes," she explained.

But I could tell she was covering something up.

I'd seen Samuel with the same cufflinks.

It was just that his cufflinks had the blue diamond I loved set right in the center.

Julia kept dodging my eyes. I just let it slide. My heart was barely hanging on. One more truth, and I'd probably fall apart.

Right before I went to sleep, I got a work notification—a business trip popped up out of nowhere. I had to head into the mountains tomorrow to check out the project site.

After college, I joined the Pierce Group, and after years of grinding, I finally climbed up to the executive ranks.

Samuel just returned from abroad, and his father stuck him under me to learn the ropes.

I needed to take him with me for the business trip.