Love Traded for Amnesia, Marriage Traded for Freedom

Maisie hadn't expected the sudden question. She turned away uncomfortably and avoided my gaze.

"If you don't want to sign…"

She retracted the divorce papers with practiced ease, just as she'd done countless times before. But this time, I caught her wrist.

My mind was a mess. After having just been diagnosed with cancer and watching the video she'd recorded three years ago, I wanted to shut everything out more than anything. But I also knew that I didn't have much time left.

So, I gripped the divorce papers and stubbornly stared at her, pressing for an answer.

"Maisie, will you be happy?"

She frowned, clearly irritated by my persistence, and aggressively yanked the papers out of my hand.

The sharp edge sliced across my palm, and blood slowly seeped out. But the sting in my hand was nothing compared to the look of annoyance on her face.

When she noticed the blood on my hand, her expression immediately cooled. "You should get it treated first."

I shook my head and stubbornly waited for her answer.

She avoided my gaze again and clutched the papers as she turned to leave.

"Whatever. Just let me know when you're ready to sign."

With that, she headed for the door.

As I watched her leave, I let out a soft sigh and made my choice. "I'll sign it now."

She froze, then turned back to look at me. "Are you really going to sign it?"

Under her doubtful gaze, I gave a small, relieved smile and said word by word, "I will."

She stood rooted to the spot. The room fell into a heavy silence, until her phone suddenly rang with Daniel's exclusive ringtone.

I couldn't hear what he was saying on the other end of the line, but Maisie's expression grew increasingly solemn.

"Okay. Stay where you are. I'll handle it."

With that, she grabbed her coat and headed for the door. I felt a desperate need to stop her and called out, "Maisie, it only takes a second to sign."

But she walked out as if she hadn't heard a word and wouldn't even spare me the time it took to sign my name.

I stood still and laughed quietly at myself. How could I be so greedy as to hope that the amnesiac Maisie would stay for me?

…

I thought I wouldn't see Maisie again for a long time, but to my surprise, she came home the next day.

"Have you signed the divorce papers?"

That was the first thing she said the moment she saw me. The second was "We're going to the courthouse today."

When I stayed silent, she frowned again. "You're not going to go back on your word, are you?"

Over the past three years, I'd occasionally blurted out that I'd divorce her in a fit of rage, only to regret it moments later.

Instead of responding to her question, I simply handed her the divorce papers and let my actions speak for me.

"I'm not going back on my word. I'll go to the courthouse with you."

She took the papers, flipped straight to the final page to verify my signature, then tossed them carelessly aside.

"Eat your breakfast first," she said, sitting on the couch as if she was settling in to wait for me.

I looked at the breakfast on the table and shook my head. "No need. Let's go now."

I couldn't give myself another second to change my mind.