When My Husband Remembered Everyone But Me

The dream pulled me back to the year we met. I fell for Irvin Henson the moment I saw him.

Everyone warned me his heart already belonged to someone else—a girl who'd left and never come back.

I didn't believe them. I went after him anyway.

I made him fall in love with me.

And he gave me everything I asked for, except he could never hold on to his memories.

At a dinner party, during a round of truth-or-dare, someone asked him what he regretted most.

His eyes went red.

“I hate that I can't remember anything about the person I love. I've put Amber through so much.”

I was so moved that I threw myself headfirst into neuroscience research.

I took him around the world to see the best specialists, tried every method there was to try.

I even got my medical license for him, self-studied my way to a neuroscience degree at the University of California.

Even if he never got better, I was willing to spend my whole life by his side.

Until the way he acted around Emily Hughes shattered everything I thought I knew.

After all those years of holding on, I finally couldn't do it anymore.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw Irvin's face at last.

He was slapping himself, guilt written all over him.

“I'm sorry. I forgot about the prenatal appointment. You were home alone when you fell and no one found you, and we lost the baby again.”

Emily trailed in behind him, her face tight with worry.

I blinked, then pressed my hand to my flat stomach.

Even if he hadn't forgotten, he still would have chosen to be with Emily first.

After a long silence, I spoke. My voice was calm.

“Irvin. I'm done. I want out.”

He froze for a second.

“I know you're upset. We can try again for a baby.”

“We've worked so hard for so long. I'll be better soon, I promise. Don't do this.”

He took my hand, both eyes full of pleading.

All those late nights I spent buried in textbooks, every wall of this house papered in notes, every word I carved into my own skin and repeated to him day after day—none of it stayed with him. But Emily? Her he never forgot.

I let out a weak smile：

“You forgot again. The doctor told me my body was never built to carry a child. Getting pregnant a second time was already a miracle. There won't be a next time.”

Surprise flickered across Irvin's eyes.

“And five years we've been married, and every single time you forgot to go to the county clerk's office with me. We never got the license. As far as the law's concerned, you and I are nothing.”

I pulled my hand free of his.

Irvin's face filled with panic：

“I promise you, nine o'clock tomorrow morning, the second the county clerk's office opens, I'll go with you to get our marriage license.”

I had heard that exact line countless times.

Every single time, it ended with him forgetting and then apologizing.

He checked the writing on my body carefully and sent someone to buy a pile of my favorite snacks.

When Emily reached for a banana, Irvin stopped her immediately.

He picked up a knife and started peeling an apple for her.

“You're allergic to bananas, you can't have those. Here, eat an apple instead. Good for your heart, and it'll soothe your throat.”

A bitter smile pulled at my lips, and just like that, I lost my appetite for all of it.

“Irvin, it's getting dark. Take Emily home first.”

He praised me for being thoughtful, kissed me once, and left with Emily.

The moment he was finally gone, I pulled out my phone and scrolled to the very last email.

It was an invitation from the University of California offering me a lectureship. Four hours until it expired.

I typed my reply：

【Amber Pruitt accepts the position. Will arrive and report in three days.】

I insisted on checking out of the hospital early so I could go home and pack.

Irvin gave in reluctantly.

“Why are all the sticky notes off the walls?”

The first thing he saw when he walked through the door was sticky notes scattered across the floor, stained with blood.

He turned to look at me：

“The writing on your body—where did it go?”

While he'd been busy running back and forth between the hospital and Emily's place, I had asked a nurse to help me scrub away every last trace.

The antiseptic bit into the open cuts. My skin screamed, but not as loud as the rest of me.