He Faked Amnesia to Cheat, She Vanished With His Heir

Madison listened to the voice message without a flicker of expression, then lowered her gaze to the diamond ring on her finger—the matching piece to the "Only You" perfume.

Joel had designed it himself. His proposal gift to her.

He'd been hiding behind his so-called amnesia, giving away things that belonged to her—things meant only for her—to someone else. Again and again. Then he'd watch with cold detachment as she broke down, as she screamed and raged, before tossing her just enough sweetness to pull her back in line.

The cycle had repeated so many times she'd lost count.

But not this time. She didn't want the ring anymore. She didn't want Joel, either.

Madison didn't reply. She slipped the ring off her finger and dropped it into the trash.

Then she had someone take the jewelry away.

The next morning, Joel came home before dawn.

He changed into fresh clothes, scrubbed away the scent that didn't belong to him, and climbed into bed. His arm curled around Madison from behind, his chin nestling into the curve of her neck, fingers tracing lazy circles along her waist. His voice was low and tender.

"Madison, I'm sorry. My amnesia flared up yesterday, and the whole thing went viral. I know it must've hurt you."

A pause, then: "But she's young. Spending a little time with her is the decent thing to do. Don't take it to heart."

Madison gave a calm nod. "Okay."

Joel froze. The carefully rehearsed words he'd prepared to coax her died on his tongue.

"Babe, you're really being good about this?"

Madison offered a faint smile. "Isn't this what you wanted? Obedient and proper."

Joel smiled, looking pleased. He produced a bottle of perfume and held it out to her, as though it were a reward for good behavior.

But the cloying sweetness hit her nostrils, and her brow creased instantly.

Less than an hour ago, Alexis Pruitt had posted this exact bottle on social media.

"My darling boss bought me perfume. Hate it. Making him take it back to his frumpy little wife as punishment."

There was a time Joel would have scoured the world for the finest things just to see her smile. Now he was handing her another woman's castoffs.

Madison bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted copper.

"I don't want something that's been dirtied."

Joel's brow twitched, barely perceptible. He tossed the perfume into the trash without hesitation and pulled her into his arms, his voice soothing.

"If my good girl doesn't like it, we throw it away. I've got a full physical booked at the hospital later. Madison—it's time we had a baby of our own."

A baby?

A sharp ache bloomed behind her ribs. She dropped her gaze, hiding the storm in her eyes.

Once, they had both longed for a child with everything they had. But now she would never tell him.

A long silence stretched between them. Madison was just about to offer the excuse she'd rehearsed when Joel's phone rang.

"Joel, I twisted my ankle. It really hurts."

Joel glanced at Madison, then spoke into the phone, his tone clipped and cold.

"Can't you get yourself to the hospital?"

He hung up.

Then he turned back to Madison, all smiles, and helped her gather her things.

"Today, wifey comes first!"

The car pulled away from the house. Minutes later, the phone shattered the quiet again.

Joel answered. Madison couldn't hear what was said on the other end, but he slammed the brakes so hard her seatbelt locked. He threw open his door, rounded the car, and yanked open the passenger side, pulling her out.

"Babe, just grab a cab to the hospital."

He was gone before she could blink, tires screaming against asphalt.

Madison watched the car shrink into the distance. A bitter laugh escaped her.

She'd actually believed, for half a second, that there was a shred of sincerity left in him. In the end, the only fool here was her.

She went to the hospital alone. After her prenatal checkup, she turned a corner and walked straight into Joel and Alexis.

Alexis was curled against his chest, eyes red-rimmed, a cartoon Band-Aid plastered across her ankle.

The moment she spotted Madison, Alexis lifted her face from Joel's embrace.

"Mrs. Delgado, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I just twisted my ankle, and I shouldn't have bothered Mr. Delgado to come all the way here. He should have been with you for your checkup. I feel terrible."

The sight sent Madison's stomach lurching. She gagged, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth.

"Secretaries are a real bargain these days. The job even comes with a side gig as a mistress."

Joel's jaw tightened at her words, anger flashing across his face—but then he saw her. The color had drained from her skin. Her lips were bloodless. She was swaying on her feet.

Something twisted in his chest. He reached for the papers clutched in her hand, thinking she was sick.

"What's wrong? Are you ill?"

His fingers had barely grazed the report when Alexis let out a sharp whimper.

"Joel, my foot—it hurts so much…"

Her voice snapped his attention back like a leash. He released Madison's hand immediately and turned to fuss over the woman in his arms.

"Shh, it's okay. We'll get it checked right now."

He let go so abruptly that Madison, already unsteady, stumbled backward. Her legs buckled, and she nearly hit the floor.

Her palm caught the wall just in time. She steadied herself against it, fingers pressed white against the cold surface.

By the time she looked up, Joel was already walking away with Alexis in his arms.

Her heart clenched with a pain she couldn't contain. She dug her nails into her palm, hard enough to draw crescents into the skin, forcing herself to stay composed.

She didn't look back. She turned and left.

The moment she stepped outside the hospital, a message from Phyllis lit up her phone.

"Madison, the divorce papers will be ready in a week."