On the day of our seventh wedding anniversary, my husband was kissing the young girl I had sponsored… inside his car.
He lost control of the steering wheel.
The accident sent both of them straight to the hospital.
The doctor said the airbags had deployed just in time. Ethan wasn’t seriously injured.
Aside from the girl being frightened and his brand-new Cullinan being completely wrecked, there were no major consequences.
But when Ethan woke up and saw me standing by his bedside, he hesitated for a moment before asking—
“...Are you the new caregiver?”
I refused to believe it.
How could he remember everyone else… and forget only me?
Clutching his medical report, I went to demand answers from the doctor.
But when I returned, I found Ethan chatting casually with his friend inside the ward.
His friend teased him, half-joking—
“You’ve got some nerve. Be careful, or you’ll end up chasing your wife into a crematorium-level regret.”
Ethan’s expression turned serious.
“Even if I’ve lost my memory, I’m certain of one thing— I would never fall for a woman as scheming as her.”
“If I really married her, it must’ve been for convenience.
”
“My ideal type has never changed. I love women who are pure and kind.”
Standing outside the door, I stared at the dashcam photo sent over by the insurance company— him kissing that girl.
A faint smile curved my lips. I dialed my lawyer immediately.
O artigo não está concluído, clique na próxima página para continuar
