Chapter 1

On Christmas Eve, my husband, Garth Pierce, ditched me to spend the holiday with his first love, Madeline Twitty.

Late in the night, he finally stumbled home, drunk as a skunk.

He tossed a silver necklace at me as he walked in. "Here, this is for you. I know I messed up by not spending the holiday with you, so consider this my apology."

I stared at the necklace. It was chunky and gaudy, but what really got me was how familiar it looked, like I'd seen it somewhere before.

It wasn't until I was at my in-laws' place that I spotted Madeline cuddling her golden retriever, and there it was, a gold chain with the exact same design as the silver necklace I was wearing.

I glanced down at the pendant on my necklace. It was shaped like candy.

And the dog Madeline was holding? Its name was Candy.

A cold smirk curled my lips as my mind flashed back to what I'd seen in the underground parking lot yesterday morning.

Garth told me he had to work overtime and couldn't spend the holiday with me, so I said I understood and started packing to head back to my parents' place.

Then I noticed a file folder sitting on the table.

Worried Garth might need it for work, I grabbed the folder and rushed to the parking lot to catch him.

But what I saw made my blood run cold. Madeline was snuggled up to Garth, giggling and acting all sweet. "Garth, why not let Sophie come along? It's kind of pitiful for her to spend Christmas alone at home."

Garth scoffed, "Pitiful? You know you're the only one I think about now. I just can't stand being around her."

He added, "I have to put on an act for her all the time. It's exhausting."

I froze, my fingers tightening around the file folder until it was bent out of shape.

I turned and headed back inside, chucking the folder into the trash on my way in, but a sheet of paper slipped out.

I bent down to pick it up. It was a medical report.

It was Garth's diagnosis from two months ago, and it was crystal clear: [Brain MRI shows no significant abnormalities. Memory assessment scores have improved significantly compared to before. Patient's memory function has recovered.]

My mind went straight back to that day three months ago.

Garth had been working overtime nonstop, pushing himself to the limit, and finally collapsed at the office.

I rushed him to the hospital, and the doctor said he'd hit his head when he fell and needed surgery.

It felt like my whole world was crashing down. I was terrified the surgery might go wrong, but I still ended up signing the consent form anyway.

Luckily, the surgery went well, and he was out of danger. But when he woke up, he only remembered Madeline; it was like I, his wife, never existed.

I was heartbroken, but I didn't blame him. Instead, I took care of him without complaint, doing everything I could to help him recover.

I even let Madeline make herself at home in our place, put up with him coming home late all the time, and turned a blind eye to how he always favored her.

But in the end, it was all an act. He'd been playing me from the start.

After reading that report, I felt like my whole world had collapsed.

Honestly, if he wanted out, he could've just said so. I wouldn't have made a scene or tried to hold him back.

Instead, he kept up the lie for two months, just standing by and watching me break myself for him.

I spent the whole day alone, just sitting there until the clock struck midnight and fireworks exploded outside, lighting up the night sky.

Last Christmas, Garth held me close on the balcony as we watched the fireworks, telling me he'd make this year's Christmas the most romantic one ever.

But this year, he chose to be with someone else, went to her house, and celebrated with her family instead.

I wiped the tears from my eyes, opened my laptop, and dug out the study abroad application I'd written five years ago, back when I gave up everything just to stay with him.

This time, I was taking back my life.

Just then, Garth's text popped up: [I'll be home late tonight. Don't call me. Get some rest.]

I stared at the message and couldn't help but let out a bitter chuckle. He really made it sound like he cared.

But if he actually cared, why would he keep up this whole lie?

I replied: [Sure. Enjoy your night with Madeline.]

After I put my phone down, I went back to sorting through my documents. That was when I spotted a photo hidden beneath Garth's medical report, a shot of Garth and Madeline side by side.

They were beaming, champagne glasses raised, with fireworks bursting in the background. The date scribbled on the back? Two months ago. My heart sank.

So, the day he "recovered his memory," he was already out celebrating—with Madeline.