I Faked Amnesia to Test My Boyfriend,Then Found His Mistress in Our Home

"What exactly are you implying? You don't actually think you're Barnaby's girlfriend, do you?"

"I wanted to say something back in the car. What's with the attitude you've been giving me?"

"Before you lost your memory, you were constantly trying to sabotage our relationship, always clinging to Barnaby and making him take pictures with you. Now you're using those photos to stir up trouble. I've been more than patient with you!"

Listening to Lena twist reality like she was the victim here, all I felt was a bitter sort of amusement.

I was about to fire back when Barnaby cut me off.

"Caroline, you were out of line today. I've always treated you like a sister, but that doesn't give you the right to disrespect my girlfriend."

"Enough. Apologize to Lena. Now."

I stared at Barnaby in disbelief.

It was like I didn't recognize him anymore.

Over the past five years, even though he'd bought me at that underground auction, he had treated me like I was everything.

When I came down with a fever, he stayed up all night by my bedside without closing his eyes.

When I couldn't eat, he printed out recipes and taught himself to cook, just so I'd take one more bite.

When I told him I loved the blind-box toys that came with kids' meals, he sat through countless rounds of greasy fast food with me, just to pull the one I wanted.

But now, standing next to Lena, Barnaby looked like a complete stranger.

Lena was clearly savoring his protection. She shot me a smug glance, then put on a magnanimous front.

"Let it go, Barnaby. Caroline just got out of the hospital. She's probably not feeling well. It's my fault too. I shouldn't have lost my temper."

"Fine, fine. It's late. Let Caroline get some rest."

Barnaby neither agreed nor disagreed with Lena's little performance. He gave me one cold look, wrapped his arm around her waist, and walked away.

I watched the two of them disappear into the master bedroom.

The moment the door clicked shut, my heart sank with it, dropping into some endless void where no sound could reach.

In the middle of the night, I lay alone in the guest room. Then a sound crept through the silence and into my ears.

I got out of bed and followed it to the hallway. It was coming from the master bedroom.

The woman's voice was syrupy, dripping with a sweetness designed to dissolve bone.

"Stop, you're too worked up. Caroline's right next door. What if she hears us?"

The man's voice was raw, thick with desire.

"Relax. The soundproofing in this place is top-notch. I already shut the door. She can't hear a thing."

"Lena... my Lena. What am I going to do with you..."

He kept murmuring her name, but his movements never slowed.

I had never seen Barnaby like this. Unraveled. Out of control.

In five years together, even in bed, he had always been gentle. Restrained. I'd assumed that was simply who he was, that passion ran cool in his veins.

Now I understood. It wasn't that he lacked fire. The person who could light it just was never me.

And then Lena's gaze drifted, her eyes heavy-lidded, and locked directly onto mine through the gap in the door.

In that instant, everything became perfectly clear.

Barnaby said he'd shut the door. But it was open. The gap was exactly wide enough for me to see everything inside.

Lena had left it open on purpose.

I met her taunting stare, felt a hollow laugh rise in my chest, and pulled the door shut myself.

I booked a flight for the next morning, then fell into a thick, dreamless sleep.

When I woke, the house was silent. Whether they were still in bed or had gone out, I had no idea.

I didn't care enough to find out. I walked straight to the courtyard and stood there, staring blankly at the osmanthus tree.

Barnaby had planted it before we moved in.