Love Traded for Amnesia, Marriage Traded for Freedom

I didn't expect to see Daniel at the courthouse.

"Thank you for being willing to step aside, Mr. Dean," he said.

I ignored him and turned to look at Maisie. Over the past three years, rumors about her and Daniel had been everywhere, but she'd always kept him from me.

And now, just as we were about to divorce, she wouldn't stoop so low as to bring him here herself.

Sure enough, she questioned him in a cold voice, "Who told you? Why are you here?"

Daniel shrank back a little, but he'd always been bold. Soon, he was grinning and playfully nudging her again.

"If I didn't come, you'd be missing your next option, wouldn't you?"

Maisie's expression darkened further at his words, while people around us began to cast disdainful glances our way.

I couldn't help but wonder how a 30-year-old man could be so clueless. Didn't he know that there was a mandatory 30-day cooling-off period right now?

As more people gathered around us to watch, I figured that I didn't want to be part of this circus and walked ahead.

Daniel was Maisie's problem to solve. After all, he'd never dared provoke me head-on, no matter how much he'd encourage her rebellious behavior, and I'd never gone looking for him either.

But today, maybe he just couldn't hold back anymore, now that things were finally about to go his way.

While I waited in line, my thoughts drifted.

Well, Chloe was right. When Maisie was with me, she'd always been calm, composed, and never this emotionally unrestrained. Even in the confession video I watched yesterday, she'd been reserved and shy.

By the time I stepped out of the courthouse, Daniel was already gone. Maisie explained awkwardly, "I didn't tell him to come."

I said nothing and simply nodded to show that I heard her. "See you in a month, Maisie."

This time, I was the first to say goodbye and walk away before she could.

…

I moved back to my apartment. I'd packed everything last night and sent it over via a local courier service.

When Maisie and I got married, Mom was worried that I'd be looked down on because of the vast difference in our family backgrounds. She emptied her savings to buy this place for me.

After unpacking, I felt drained and lay on the couch to rest on my side. Before I knew it, I'd drifted off to sleep and dreamed about the first time I met Maisie.

Having lost Dad at a young age, I was a timid kid and lived like an invisible person at school. The thick bangs, glasses that covered half of my face, and plain clothes were my shield.

That was until a tennis ball slammed into my head during my first year of high school. It left me dazed, and I sat on the ground, unable to get back up.

A lady's fresh, gentle voice reached my ears. "Hey, are you okay?"

She helped me up and complimented me. "You have really beautiful eyes."

Looking into those caring eyes, I suddenly snapped out of it, grabbed my broken glasses, and fled in a panic. But that day, the sound of cicadas in the trees by the field lingered in my ears for a long time.