Chapter 1

While my wife was away on a business trip, I received a text from an unknown number:

"Your wife is cheating on you."

When I rushed to the hotel where she was staying, I found no trace of an affair.

Instead, a fire broke out in the middle of the night, and my wife fell into a coma from smoke inhalation.

When she finally woke up in the hospital, her memory was scrambled—she mistook her young assistant for her husband.

Consumed with guilt, I spent months searching the globe for specialists to treat her.

Just when I finally got in touch with a renowned German neurosurgeon and prepared to take her abroad, I overheard her talking to her best friend.

"Vivian, you're a genius. Not only did you keep him from catching you, but faking amnesia lets you stay with Scott completely out in the open."

"Still, I heard he found a world-class specialist. Aren't you afraid he'll find out?"

Vivian let out a light laugh.

"When he actually brings the doctor over, I'll just say a miracle happened and I recovered."

"At least for now, I'm finally free."

"Honestly, you should find yourself a twenty-year-old toy boy, too. Unlike those middle-aged men, he doesn't tap out in bed after thirty minutes."

I froze where I stood, a sharp pain piercing my chest.

I pulled out my phone and dialed her biggest rival.

"Nicole, aren't you looking for a partner? I'm ready to fund your new firm."

Right after I hung up, Vivian walked out of Scott's apartment.

Ever since her supposed memory loss, she had moved in with him.

No matter how much I begged, she had refused to come home.

"Why are you here again?"

Vivian snapped, her face tightening with irritation.

"I already told you, I don't know who you are. Scott is my husband."

I caught the brief flicker of panic in her eyes.

"Fine. I get it."

My voice was calm as I turned to leave.

"Wait!"

Her expression darkened, and she stepped forward to block my path.

"Were you eavesdropping outside the door just now?"

I noticed a button missing from her blouse, revealing faint hickeys across her collarbone. My heart twisted with dull agony.

It seemed she had spent a passionate night with Scott.

A bitter smirk pulled at the corner of my mouth.

"What do you think I could have heard?"

Catching me looking at her chest, she hurriedly covered herself with her hands.

"What are you staring at? I'm allowed to be intimate with my own husband! Don't you dare start throwing another fit."

Of course. Scott was younger, fitter, and clearly kept her satisfied.

Yet after ten years of marriage, how could my heart accept this so easily?

The medical appointment slip slipped from my trembling fingers and fluttered to the floor.

Vivian glanced at it, her brow furrowing deeply.

"I told you, I'm not sick! Why do you keep pushing me to see doctors?"

"My husband and I are doing great. Can you just back off, you old creep, and stop stalking me?"

"Fine. I won't bother you anymore."

I lifted my chin, forcing myself to look her in the eye.

"Regardless of whether you believe it, we are legally married. If you want this over, we need to file for divorce."

Hearing the word "divorce," Vivian's face shifted, but she quickly shot back:

"Are you insane? I'm not even your wife, so how could I divorce you?"

"Once your memory returns, we'll sign the papers immediately," I replied coldly, turning to walk away.

Just then, Scott returned and blocked my way.

"Hey, old man! What are you doing here again?"

Scott barged in and slammed a fist hard into my chest.

My vision went black. With a choked gasp, all strength left my limbs, and I collapsed heavily onto the floor.

"Oh, babe, don't be so reckless!" Vivian rushed to steady Scott, checking his knuckles with sweet concern. "If you actually hurt him, the cops might take you in. I can't bear being away from you for even a single day."

She ignored me entirely as I lay helpless on the ground.

Yet years ago, if I ever felt slightly unwell from working late, Vivian would cry her eyes out and sit by my bedside all night.

"Julian, you have a bad heart. Please be careful, or you'll break mine..."

"Hey, old man, stop playing dead on the floor!"

The agony in my chest tightened, suffocating me. I curled into a ball, cold sweat soaking through my shirt.

The chill of death crept over me.

"Still faking it? Don't tell me you actually expect us to believe you're having a heart attack."

Scott sneered and kicked me ruthlessly in the chest a couple of times.

"Ah—!"

Hearing my choked cry of pure agony, Scott smirked with satisfaction.

"See, Vivian? He's yelling loud and clear. He's totally faking."

A flash of unease crossed Vivian's face.

"Why did you kick him? He really has... he could actually die!"

Scott softened his tone, whining like a pampered child.

"Babe, I just hate seeing him harass you. Don't worry, I didn't kick him that hard. He won't die."

Vivian let out an exasperated sigh.

"You... your possessiveness is going to be the death of me."

She turned back toward me, her gaze filled with pure disgust.

"Hey, if you're done acting, get up. My husband is fragile—how hard could he have possibly kicked you?"

She was certain I had no idea about her little game.

I tried to speak, but a violent spasm tore through my chest.

"Help... Vivian... please... hospital..."

"Stop with the drama! He barely tapped you—"

Vivian's impatience was palpable, but as she took in my graying face and blue lips, she froze.

Panic finally set in. She dropped to her knees, frantically patting down my pockets for my medication.

"Don't... don't scare me! I'm... my head cleared, I remember who you are now! I'm taking you to the hospital right now!"

Even in this moment, she couldn't drop the act.

Darkness rushed in, and I passed out from the excruciating pain.