Every Morning, My Wife Wipes My Brain

I have a strange illness.

Every morning I wake up, the previous day’s memories are completely gone.

My wife, Olivia, is the only person I trust when I open my eyes.

She always tells me patiently:

"Your name is Ethan. You’re twenty-nine, and you’re my husband."

I believed her without a shadow of a doubt.

Until today, when I found a hidden diary in the corner of the study.

On the very first page, written in my own handwriting, was a chilling warning:

"Never trust Olivia."

"Julian isn't her cousin. He's the man she’s been in love with for years."