Chapter 2 · My Enemy's Amnesia Made Him Mine

I was sprawled out on the couch, binge-watching TV. The leads were so gorgeous, it was like a feast for the eyes.

Maybe I was too into it, but I could feel someone staring at me for ages. I took off my headphones and looked up. Samuel was giving me that classic resentful look, all sulky and pitiful.

"Yeah? What do you want, Mr. Yates?" I said, barely bothering to hide my impatience.

'If you're here to mope, don't mess with my drama time. I'm right at the juiciest moment. The leads are breaking up,' I thought.

"I'm starving, honey. I've been calling you forever and you ignored me," Samuel complained, sounding extra needy.

'Sorry, blame the headphones. They block out everything. Take it up with the manufacturer, not me,' I snarked to myself.

"You only care about your TV dramas. Your hubby doesn't matter to you anymore," Samuel sulked.

'You're not even my hubby,' I grumbled inwardly.

I really wanted to tell Samuel we were mortal enemies, but if I did, there went my paycheck.

For the sake of that paycheck, I put on my most respectful act, cleared my throat, and tried to make it as annoyingly polite as possible. "May I ask what you'd like to eat, Mr. Yates?"

"Can you not call me that? Aren't we a loving couple?" Samuel pouted, looking all hurt.

I never thought Samuel would get hung up on that.

He looked so pitiful, like I was totally clueless about how to pamper my man.

But for the money, I caught on quick and called out in the sweetest, most syrupy voice, "Honey."

Samuel froze for a moment. Maybe he felt awful as well.

That sparked a brilliant idea in me. While Samuel'd lost his memory, I was gonna really play up the role of his "perfect wife".

"Honey, if you were hungry, you should've told me sooner. I can't stand seeing you go hungry. It breaks my heart," I crooned, laying it on thick. "You made your honey feel bad, so you have to send me some money as punishment."

Samuel watched me, totally playing it up and acting all bold, then whipped out his phone and sent me one million straight to my account.

"Really, honey? You actually care about me?" he asked, his voice gentle and eager. Something I said must've hit a nerve, because he suddenly perked up, looking a bit more excited.

I stared at the string of numbers in my account, grinning like crazy. "Of course. If my honey skips a meal, my heart aches for you."

"Guess I'll eat now, honey. Will you feed me?" he asked, his voice soft and hopeful.

Since he sent me that money, I agreed.

I grabbed the cream of mushroom soup the maid cooked, scooped up a spoonful, and brought it to his lips.

Samuel opened his mouth, but the soup was way too hot. He quickly pushed my hand away. "It's burning, honey," he pouted, looking at me all sad and needy again.

"Oops, my bad, honey. I forgot to blow on it for you," I said, putting on my sweetest act.

But yes, I totally did that on purpose.

This was payback for what he did back in middle school. He stuffed my cup with a chocolate bar and acted like I was some old lady who needed to "stay healthy." That was my special cup.

I scooped up another spoonful, blew on it gently, and brought it to his lips with an exaggeratedly apologetic look. "Honey, this one's definitely not hot."

After he took a few sips, he looked at me, all content and happy. "Honey, you really love me, huh?"

Seriously? What kind of wild fantasy was he cooking up now?

"Wow, you're actually taking care of someone for the first time. I'm so moved, honey," Samuel said, sounding extra emotional.

Maybe my awkward way of taking care of him made Samuel mistakenly think I was actually being attentive.

But he was right about one thing: I was always the spoiled one.

"Honey, I promise I'll treasure what we have!" he said, all earnest and heartfelt. "I'll love you more than you love me."

I stared at him, completely at a loss for words.

How did I never realize this before? That fierce, no-nonsense Samuel from the business world was actually a total romance junkie? He scripted his own love story in his head.

Chapter 2

I was sprawled out on the couch, binge-watching TV. The leads were so gorgeous, it was like a feast for the eyes.

Maybe I was too into it, but I could feel someone staring at me for ages. I took off my headphones and looked up. Samuel was giving me that classic resentful look, all sulky and pitiful.

"Yeah? What do you want, Mr. Yates?" I said, barely bothering to hide my impatience.

'If you're here to mope, don't mess with my drama time. I'm right at the juiciest moment. The leads are breaking up,' I thought.

"I'm starving, honey. I've been calling you forever and you ignored me," Samuel complained, sounding extra needy.

'Sorry, blame the headphones. They block out everything. Take it up with the manufacturer, not me,' I snarked to myself.

"You only care about your TV dramas. Your hubby doesn't matter to you anymore," Samuel sulked.

'You're not even my hubby,' I grumbled inwardly.

I really wanted to tell Samuel we were mortal enemies, but if I did, there went my paycheck.

For the sake of that paycheck, I put on my most respectful act, cleared my throat, and tried to make it as annoyingly polite as possible. "May I ask what you'd like to eat, Mr. Yates?"

"Can you not call me that? Aren't we a loving couple?" Samuel pouted, looking all hurt.

I never thought Samuel would get hung up on that.

He looked so pitiful, like I was totally clueless about how to pamper my man.

But for the money, I caught on quick and called out in the sweetest, most syrupy voice, "Honey."

Samuel froze for a moment. Maybe he felt awful as well.

That sparked a brilliant idea in me. While Samuel'd lost his memory, I was gonna really play up the role of his "perfect wife".

Samuel watched me, totally playing it up and acting all bold, then whipped out his phone and sent me one million straight to my account.

"Really, honey? You actually care about me?" he asked, his voice gentle and eager. Something I said must've hit a nerve, because he suddenly perked up, looking a bit more excited.

I stared at the string of numbers in my account, grinning like crazy. "Of course. If my honey skips a meal, my heart aches for you."

"Guess I'll eat now, honey. Will you feed me?" he asked, his voice soft and hopeful.

Since he sent me that money, I agreed.

I grabbed the cream of mushroom soup the maid cooked, scooped up a spoonful, and brought it to his lips.

Samuel opened his mouth, but the soup was way too hot. He quickly pushed my hand away. "It's burning, honey," he pouted, looking at me all sad and needy again.

"Oops, my bad, honey. I forgot to blow on it for you," I said, putting on my sweetest act.

But yes, I totally did that on purpose.

This was payback for what he did back in middle school. He stuffed my cup with a chocolate bar and acted like I was some old lady who needed to "stay healthy." That was my special cup.

I scooped up another spoonful, blew on it gently, and brought it to his lips with an exaggeratedly apologetic look. "Honey, this one's definitely not hot."

After he took a few sips, he looked at me, all content and happy. "Honey, you really love me, huh?"

Seriously? What kind of wild fantasy was he cooking up now?

"Wow, you're actually taking care of someone for the first time. I'm so moved, honey," Samuel said, sounding extra emotional.

Maybe my awkward way of taking care of him made Samuel mistakenly think I was actually being attentive.

But he was right about one thing: I was always the spoiled one.

"Honey, I promise I'll treasure what we have!" he said, all earnest and heartfelt. "I'll love you more than you love me."

I stared at him, completely at a loss for words.

How did I never realize this before? That fierce, no-nonsense Samuel from the business world was actually a total romance junkie? He scripted his own love story in his head.