Page 127 of One of Those Amnesia Stories

‘Cassian The Neglectful Husband’ did that?

I frowned, the contradiction turning in my mind like a key in a stubborn lock.

With every new piece of information, the rigid portrait I’d painted of my past self—the desperate, foolish woman clinging to a man who didn’t care—began to crack. Maybe she’d seen something in him worth the fight, worth the patience, worth the devastating hope.

Maybe I judged her too harshly.

We stayed until we finished our coffee. The silence this time was different—not empty, but comfortable. I didn’t feel the old, itchy irritation at her presence. The space between us simply existed.

When we got up to leave, she paused, hovering for a few seconds in that uncertain space between strangers and family. Then, cautiously, as if approaching a skittish animal, she wrapped her arms around me.

I stood frozen, my body rigid with the shock of it. Then, slowly, I raised my arms and hugged her back. I didn’t hug the mother I’d never had. I hugged the warm, living, flawed woman in front of me. I hugged the fragile warmth of having her here, now.

When I finally returned to my apartment, I stood outside the door for a long moment, staring at the keyhole.

I slid the key in. It turned with a smooth, familiar click.

Maybe, just maybe, I didn’t need to change the locks this time.

Chapter 21

My mornings now began with a memory. A flash of the past, served with my coffee. Every new day came with an old memory to keep me going.

Every returned memory was a piece of a blueprint. A blueprint of the man she had fallen for, and the man who had later failed her. They weren’t just nostalgic memories. They were motivation, fueling a single, focused goal.

I had given Alessia the divorce because it was what she wanted. What she needed. It was the one selfless act I could manage. To stop fighting for the broken thing I’d made of our marriage and finally, truly, listen to her.

But a signed document didn’t mean I had to let her go from my heart. It didn’t mean I had to accept a future without her in it.

I was not going to let her go. Not in the way that mattered.

I was going to earn her back. Not as her husband. Not through reminders of the past or grand, empty promises. I would earn the right to stand beside her again by becoming the man she should have had all along.

She left because of me. Because of my absence, my silence, my failure to share my burdens, my choice of my company’s survival over our marriage’s heartbeat. I was the variable that broke the equation.

Therefore, I was the variable that needed to change.

I needed to learn how to be better. Not just for her, but because the man she had loved once was buried under layers of stress and silence, and it was time to dig him out and build someone stronger in his place.

I needed to become someone worthy of standing beside her again. Someone who could stand beside her without dimming her light.

The memories were the map, and the work had already started.

Today, I got to relive our first meeting.

I hurried into the cafe and checked my watch. I was five minutes late. Liam hadn’t given me much time when he’d told me about her.

My eyes searched the cafe, passing over an old couple at one table, two women at another, and then finally landing on the single woman sitting at a table near the window.

Her hands were folded around her cup, light spilling across the table in front of her.

My attention stalled there.

I took a steadying breath and hurried to the table. “Alessia?”

She looked up. Her eyes met mine for a second before flicking pointedly to her watch.

I thrust my hand out for a handshake. She didn’t take it. “Hi. I’m Cassian Sterling. I know I’m late. Liam only told me about this half an hour ago, and I’d just left a breakfast meeting across town. I came as fast as I could.”