Page 41 of One of Those Amnesia Stories

It could also make you spectacularly fucking stupid.

My eyes stayed locked on his, refusing to give him even the smallest opportunity to look away. “Then I had the accident. And when I woke up, I didn’t remember you. Out of everyone, out of everything I could have forgotten… you’re the one person my mind erased. I could’ve lost a year. A year and a half. Even two.” My voice softened. “But no. I lost every memory that had you in it.”

His expression crumpled. Pain flooded his eyes, completely unguarded, each word visibly striking deeper than the last. His hand lifted without thought, his palm cupping my cheek. His thumb traced gently along my skin.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “We’ll get them back. We’ll figure it out together. Please, don’t—”

“It was a sign.”

The words stopped him cold.

His thumb stopped moving. He searched my face, trying to make sense of my words.

“There was a reason I forgot you. Maybe some part of me wanted to forget. Maybe I wanted to leave, but I just…” I shrugged. “I wasn’t strong enough.” I held his eyes. “The accident didn’t take my memories from me. It gave them back to me. It gave me the strength to do what she couldn’t.”

I watched his expression shatter, piece by piece, with every word.

“What are you saying?” he finally managed, the words barely audible.

I reached up and gently removed his hand from my cheek. His fingers lingered against my skin for a second before falling between us.

“I’m saying I want a divorce.”

Chapter 6

“No.”

Oh, look. The man had found a second favorite word, and he intended to get his money’s worth out of it.

He shook his head so hard it was a miracle his neck survived. “No, Alessia.” Panic flickered across his face, quickly chased by something more desperate as he stepped closer. “We’re not doing this. We are not getting a divorce.”

His chest rose and fell unevenly. “You don’t mean that.” His voice cracked on the last word, and he swallowed before continuing. “You’re angry. You’re confused. You woke up and suddenly your whole life feels like it belongs to someone else, and I understand that. I do.” He dragged a trembling hand through his hair. “But—” His voice faltered. “You can’t just walk away from everything we’ve built because you have a few missing memories.”

“A few missing memories?” I scoffed. “Bro, I don’t even know you.”

“Then get to know me again,” he shot back, his voice dropping to a ragged, pleading whisper. “I’ll tell you everything. I’ll show you everything. Whatever it takes.” He threw his hands up, frustration flashing across his face. “And for the love of God, Alessia, stop calling me bro.”

I paused, narrowing my eyes at him. “Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t get a divorce.”

He frowned. “Because we’re married.”

I stared at him flatly. “Really?”

“No. That’s not what I meant.” He let out a sharp breath and rubbed his jaw, his expression tightening. “I mean, we didn’t get married just to get divorced. We took vows, Alessia. We promised forever.” His eyebrows lifted, incredulous. “And unless someone changed the definition of forever while I wasn’t looking, we haven’t reached it yet.”

He gestured sharply between us. “This is what for better or for worse means.” His expression hardened, determination taking root in every line of his face. “You’ll remember. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But you will. You’ll remember me. You’ll remember us.” He let his hand fall and took a breath before adding, “And until you do, I’m not going anywhere.”

He had said so much.

And somehow, he had still managed to leave out the one thing I needed to hear. The one answer that might have made me stop, take a breath, and give this marriage—and him—a chance.

Love.

Maybe the woman I’d been had looked at him and found something worth choosing, day after day. Maybe she’d loved him so deeply that forever had once seemed like the easiest promise to make. Maybe, to her, this marriage had been worth fighting for.

But I wasn’t her anymore.

Whatever she had felt for him belonged to a life I couldn’t remember, to a version of myself I could no longer reach. She had known him, loved him, and chosen him.