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

Right after graduating college, I'd begged my parents to take me on a graduation trip.

But on the road, we were in a terrible car accident. The driver, my mom, my dad. All three of them died.

I'd been badly injured. When I finally woke up, I was in an underground auction house in a Southeast Asian black-market district.

Just when I thought my life would end there, Barnaby saved me.

But even after the rescue, I developed severe PTSD. I stayed locked inside the house, crying day after day. I wouldn't go out, wouldn't see anyone, wouldn't eat.

I was convinced it was my fault. I was the one who'd insisted on that trip. I was the one who should have died.

During that time, the only thing I was willing to take a few bites of was the osmanthus cake Barnaby made by hand.

After we moved in together, he'd had someone transplant this very osmanthus tree into the courtyard.

"Don't underestimate this tree. Its blossoms can be used to make you osmanthus cake. And in a couple days, I'll build you a swing right underneath it."

"When summer comes, my Caroline can sit on the swing, breathing in the flowers, eating her cake. How perfect is that?"

He built the swing himself. And on the trunk, beside the swing, he'd hung a small wooden plaque with a few words carved into it.

Barnaby & Caroline.

With a little heart in between.

Even now, I could still remember how I'd wrapped my arms around his waist and looked up at him, my eyes full of laughter.

"This is our love tree. As long as it's still standing, I'll still be here."

I was lost in the memory when a shrill, affected voice cut through.

"You never lost your memory, did you, Caroline?"

We were alone now, and Lena didn't bother hiding her smugness.

"I figured it out at the hospital. When you asked who Barnaby was, you almost cracked up. It was obviously a joke."

"But hey, since you wanted to play games, I figured I'd play along. Only fair, right?"

I said nothing. I just looked at her, cold.

Lena had joined the company six months ago. From that day on, Barnaby changed.

The overtime got longer. The business trips got more frequent.

It wasn't until yesterday, when I ended up hurt in the hospital, that I finally learned where all those late nights and trips had actually gone.

But none of that mattered anymore.

When I didn't respond, the triumph in Lena's eyes only deepened.

"If I were you, I'd never have the nerve to stick around here like some shameless leech. So what if you've been with him five years? All I have to do is crook my finger, and there won't be a single corner of his heart left for you."

"But I get it, I really do. After all, I heard that after your parents died, you went crazy. You're just a parentless little orphan now. Of course you'd cling to Barnaby for dear life."

"Oh, and that time in Southeast Asia? It wasn't just an auction, was it? I heard the men there are animals." She let out a low, mocking laugh. "Don't tell me you picked up some disease while you were at it."

My head snapped up. I stared at her, every muscle in my body rigid, the fury in my chest about to detonate.

How could she. How dare she.

My reaction seemed to delight her. She flicked her hair with a satisfied toss.

"You know, looking at you like this, if your dead parents could see—"

I couldn't hold back any longer. My palm connected with her face so hard the crack echoed through the room.

But before I could get a single word out, Barnaby's voice exploded behind me.

"Caroline! What the hell are you doing!"

The instant she heard his voice, the smugness on Lena's face dissolved into wounded fragility.

"Caroline, I just came to talk to you. Why would you hit me out of nowhere..."

Barnaby's gaze locked onto Lena's swollen, reddening cheek. When he spoke, his voice was cold enough to freeze blood.

"Caroline, how could you be so vicious? What did Lena say to you that made you hit her?"

I ignored Barnaby's interrogation. My eyes locked onto his, unblinking.

"That I'm mentally ill. You told her that?"

Barnaby froze. Lena jumped in immediately.

"Caroline, I only heard from Barnaby that you'd been through some trauma before. I was worried your injury this time might affect your emotional state. How can you twist things around like this?"

Barnaby recovered.

"I did mention it to Lena, but it's the truth, isn't it? She was just concerned about how you were feeling."

"Look at yourself right now. You've been acting unhinged ever since you left the hospital yesterday. Forget what Lena said. Even if she called you a psycho, she wouldn't be wrong!"

Tears fell from my eyes in heavy drops, each one crashing down as my heart shredded itself into countless pieces.

When my illness had been at its worst, the doctors kept me strapped to the hospital bed around the clock. The moment they loosened the restraints, all I wanted was to throw myself off the roof.

Back then, Barnaby had been the one sitting beside me, saying the same words over and over.

"It's okay, it's okay. Our Caroline is just sick, that's all. I'll stay with you. Be good for me, okay? We'll get through this together."

But now, the disgust in his eyes when he looked at me was completely unconcealed. He'd even joined Lena in calling me mentally ill.

Perhaps afraid I'd say something else, Lena grabbed Barnaby's hand.

"Barnaby, I feel awful. I'm so dizzy. Can you take me to the hospital for a checkup? Please?"

Barnaby's gaze sharpened the instant he saw my tears.

But his lips moved without sound for a long moment, and in the end, he steadied Lena and walked out the door.

After they left, I went straight to the master bedroom. I didn't pack a thing. I took only my bank card and my ID.

There was nothing left in this house worth holding on to.

Including Barnaby.