Mystery Husband Fakes His Amnesia

After waking up from the car accident, Louie had lost his memory.

He remembered everyone—except for me, his wife of seven years.

He brought the girl he’d once had a secret crush on to meet me and announced he wanted a divorce.

But his amnesia was a sham, a test and revenge for discovering the truth about how I had pursued him.

Later, as I watched him apologize and beg for forgiveness over and over, I spoke slowly. “Louie, if you can’t let go, then why don’t you just forget?”

“After all, you’re experienced with amnesia. But this time, it’ll be for real.”

——

On his first day home after being discharged from the hospital, Louie arrived with Hazel in tow.

I looked at their interlocked fingers and asked quietly, "You’re saying you want to divorce me to marry her?"

Louie’s voice was firm, and his gaze was cold with impatience. "Yes. She was the first person I saw when I woke up, and she took care of me while I recovered."

After a pause, he added, "They say you're my wife, but I feel no connection to you. I even instinctively recoil at the thought."

"This isn’t how married couples are supposed to feel. I don't see any point in continuing this marriage."

Around us, our villa still had decorations from our seventh wedding anniversary celebration. Photos of us as husband and wife filled the walls of the living room, giving the space an air of warmth that now felt painfully ironic in the face of his words.

Louie looked down at me from his elevated stance, his tone laced with condescension. "The lawyer says we had a prenuptial agreement. I'll let you keep the villa as compensation."

I suppressed the hurt welling inside, ignoring their closeness. "One last time—are you certain you don’t remember me? Are you really going through this divorce?"

Hazel lowered her head, avoiding my gaze, while Louie’s expression remained unwavering, his tone resolute. "Of course."

"I’m here today to let you know that my lawyer will handle the divorce proceedings." After saying that, he took Hazel's hand and left without looking back.

We had known each other for over ten years and had been married for seven. I couldn’t understand why he remembered everyone but me.

Not too long ago, we were still deeply in love; on our anniversary, he had held my hand and talked about planning a vacation together.

I held onto these cherished memories, unwilling to let go.

So I seized every opportunity during our divorce discussions to remind him of our life together, showing him glimpses of our shared moments.

I took him to our old college campus, hoping he’d remember our memories there. But his gaze lingered on Hazel’s old desk instead as he spoke. "I once thought that when I graduated, I’d confess my feelings to her. I never expected to miss the chance for so many years."

When I heard those words, I was hurt butI presented him with a handmade ornament I had crafted for him years ago. He used to cherish it, but now he only looked at it with disdain.

"Childish design, cheap materials, shoddy workmanship. There’s no way my taste was ever this bad," he spat with annoyance.

Though he spoke about the ornament, his words felt like they were directed at me as well. His gaze bore into me with the same irritation, as if I, too, was beneath his notice.

I told myself that it was okay, that he simply didn’t remember. But the ache in my heart was hard to ignore.

I showed him the patch of lily-of-the-valley flowers he had once planted for me in our yard.

Now, Louie refused to even approach them. "Hazel’s allergic to pollen. Say what you need to from here."

Still holding on to a glimmer of hope, I pulled out a good-luck charm carefully wrapped in a scarf. The charm was nestled in a little cloth pouch, the kind you get from a temple.

The fabric was plain, the craftsmanship rough, and over time it had frayed, with the paper talisman inside beginning to curl.

It was the very first gift Louie ever gave me, and I still remembered how he had tied it around my wrist with a playful smile.

"There, now you won’t trip so often. This charm will keep you safe." He smiled and tucked my hair behind my ear. "And if it doesn’t work, I’ll just stay by your side to make sure you don’t get hurt!"

It was his way of comforting me, his way of confessing.

True to his word, he stayed by my side all through college, graduation, and our eventual marriage, always shielding me from harm.

Nothing else bore witness to our love like this charm, and nothing else in my heart could ever compare.

I had worn it every day until it started to wear down, and only then did I put it away for safekeeping.

Back then, he had teased me, saying, "It’s just a charm. I’ll get you another one."

Now, it was my last hope.

I brought it to him full of anticipation, hoping it would stir something in him. He was busy discussing wedding plans with Hazel.

He lifted the red string, and I searched his face for any hint of emotion. But there was nothing. His expression remained blank throughout.

Hazel looked up from his embrace, eyeing the charm with disdain. "A good-luck charm? Why is it so worn out?"

She glanced at me with barely concealed contempt. "Shantal, I understand things were tough for you before you married Louie, but do you really need to keep such a shabby thing?"

"Anyone would think Louie had been neglecting you all these years."

She took the charm from Louie’s hand, and spat, "It doesn’t look special at all. This sort of thing? No one would even pick it up off the street."

I couldn’t stand to see her demean something so precious to me. Reaching out, I tried to take it back.

Hazel smiled and extended it towards me, only to drop it right before I could reach it.

I stared as the charm fell from her hand, landing in the coffee cup in front of her, the entire pouch submerged in brown liquid, a sharp pang piercing my heart.

"Oh dear, I thought you’d catch it." She chuckled. "Besides, who still believes in such outdated superstitions? It’s probably for the best it’s gone now."

Sneering, Hazel added, "I can buy you a replacement. This sort of thing isn’t worth much; you can find similar ones online for less than a hundred."

Her words, gaze, and tone held not a trace of remorse, only scorn and disdain.

Furious, I picked up her coffee and poured it over her head.

She was wearing a white dress, now stained and covered in liquid, looking utterly disheveled.

"What are you doing?!" A furious voice roared, and I was shoved away, my back hitting the edge of the table hard.

The sharp pain made me double over.

In disbelief, I looked up at Louie as he clumsily wiped coffee off Hazel, his expression cold as he glared at me.

"It was just some worthless trinket. Why would you go after Hazel over something so trivial?"

"You're insane!" he thundered.

I straightened up, holding my aching back, and calmly poured Louie’s own cup of coffee over his head.

I picked up the charm that had fallen to the ground, clutching my aching back as I left the café, one slow step at a time. My friend, Charlotte, was waiting for me outside in her car. When she saw my appearance, her eyes were filled with a mix of pain and anger. "Louie actually hit you?"

Yes, Louie had actually hit me. The man who used to be so tender, who once worried over every little scrape, had hurt me. I closed my eyes, unable to stop my tears from falling. In my hand, the charm was still damp, the paper charm inside was already wrinkled and disintegrating beyond repair. A deep ache tightened in my chest as I looked at it, feeling utterly lost.

Charlotte suddenly stopped the car, jerking me from my daze. I blinked at her, confused. "Are we home?"

With a huff, she opened the car door and dragged me out. "Going home? In your state? You haven't eaten properly in ages! If you go back alone, who knows how long it'll be before someone finds you in a worse condition."

Ignoring my protests, she led me into a nearby restaurant and ordered a full table of my favorite dishes. But I just stared blankly, unable to eat.

Charlotte sighed and pushed a bowl of seafood porridge toward me. "Shantal, at least eat something. Louie may have lost his memory, but he could recover. If he remembers everything and you’re not well enough to be there, wouldn’t that be a waste?”

Charlotte had been there since high school and college, witnessing every step of my relationship with Louie. Because of that, she was furious about the person he’d become after losing his memory. Yet she still believed that once his memories returned, everything would go back to the way it was.

Most of our friends thought the same—everyone felt that if his memory came back, he would never leave me for Hazel. But I wasn't so sure.

It was different for me, because the person Louie had always held dear, the one person he could never let go of, was Hazel—his first love, his idealized “pure love.”

Back then, he admired her from a distance, too afraid to let anyone know of his feelings, except for me, who was always watching him. Hazel was his unreachable ideal. It took me over a year just to become his girlfriend, and four more years before we became husband and wife. After years of love and companionship, we were the perfect couple in everyone’s eyes. I believed it too. But now he had forgotten only me, and still loved her. It was as though our years together had meant nothing.

Looking back, have I really been nothing but a fool—someone who devoted herself only to end up with nothing?

Charlotte noticed my silence and gently pushed the porridge closer, snapping me back to the present.

“Don’t you want to know why Louie was in that accident?” she asked.

I looked up, my face pale. "Why?"

She didn’t answer right away, only watching me as she held out the bowl. I took it, eating large spoonfuls until the bowl was empty. It used to be tasty, but now it only tasted bland, like nothing at all.

“Now will you tell me?” I said.

Her expression grew complex, and she took a breath. "That day, Hazel had just returned to the city, and Louie went to pick her up. They got into the accident because her ex-husband’s men were after her."

It was midsummer, but a chill ran through me. I let out a bitter laugh. I had thought Louie's feelings for her were just old memories he couldn’t control after the accident. But no—his love for her had never faded. Remembering me or not made no difference.

The seafood porridge I’d just eaten suddenly felt repulsive, and a wave of nausea surged through me. I fought the urge to retch, but it overwhelmed me.

Alarmed, Charlotte quickly called for the restaurant owner to help, then got me back to the car and drove me straight to the hospital.

“Congratulations, ma’am,” the doctor said, handing me a test result. “You’re two months pregnant.”

Dazed, I took the paper from him. Two months... that was our wedding anniversary—the same night we’d planned a future together.

I gently stroked my abdomen, still flat, yet already nurturing a new life inside. This child, one that Louie and I had longed for, has come at the worst possible time—could this really be okay?

I stayed silent for so long that the doctor, still holding out the paper, began to look at me with concern.

Charlotte quickly took the results from the doctor’s hands. “Thank you, doctor. Are there any special precautions we should follow?”

With a heavy heart, I whispered, “I don’t want this child.”

“Shantal...” Charlotte looked at me, her expression complicated.

After we left the doctor’s office, she guided me to the waiting area and looked at me seriously. “If you’ve thought it through, I’ll support your choice,” she said. “You’re the child’s mother, the one who would carry all the burden of bringing this life into the world. No one else has more right to decide than you.”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen between you and Louie. But I do know how much you went through just to get pregnant. As your friend, I just have to ask—are you absolutely certain?”

I hesitated. She was right; I’d always dreamed of having a family of my own, something to make me feel less alone in this world. But with Louie gone, could I do this by myself? After a long silence, I looked up. “I’ll keep the baby,” I decided, holding onto the idea of a future where I wouldn’t be alone.

Charlotte took me out of the hospital, and I asked her to keep it a secret; this baby would be mine alone and would have nothing to do with Louie. But if I was going to keep the child, the divorce had to happen quickly.

Surprisingly, though, Louie, who’d been pushing so hard for the divorce, started stalling. He kept saying he was too busy to handle it right now. First, he was the one who wanted the divorce, but now, he was delaying it. It made me realize just how little control I ever had in this marriage.

Fine then. Until we divorce, I would start sorting out our assets so that I wouldn't end up blind-sided, forced to accept whatever terms he decided. Thankfully, the house was registered in my name, so I had the right to sell it. I contacted an agent and put it on the market, then packed up and moved out, renting an apartment next to Charlotte.

During this time, I poured all my energy into planning for the baby, picking out tiny clothes and toys with Charlotte. One day, she held up a soft little onesie and laughed. “Boy or girl, what do you think?”

"Maybe a boy," I said wistfully.

She teased, “What’s this? I never took you for the traditional type, wanting a son over a daughter!”

I chuckled, smoothing the tiny clothes with a wistful smile. “It’s not that. I just don’t want my child—especially if she’s a girl—to have to meet someone like Louie.”

She laughed, brushing off the comment, “Then a son it’ll be! Plus, boys tend to look like their moms. He’ll be just as good-looking as you and drive everyone crazy someday.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,”

“Tsk. Enough flattery,” I chuckled, letting myself relax for the first time in a long while.