My fiancé got amnesia. He forgot everything—except, selectively, me. He was faking it. I didn't expose him. Our marriage certificate turned into a divorce decree. Yet, three days later, the wedding I had meticulously planned for a month went on exactly as scheduled. He was still the groom, but the bride wasn't me anymore. It was his on-again, off-again ex-girlfriend. When we met again, he grabbed my wrist, completely losing his mind: "Chloe, where did you go?! Why didn't you come looking for me?!" I put on a perfectly blank expression, looking at him defensively: "Excuse me, sir, who are you? Do I know you?" 1 "Chloe, get over here. We're getting a divorce." Liam's words were blunt and brutal. I stayed silent. He didn't need my answer anyway. He hung up the phone. Liam was my fiancé. He had amnesia. And the very first thing he did after "losing his memory" was summon me to sign divorce papers. We had just gotten our marriage license at City Hall that morning; by the afternoon, we were annulling it. When I walked into the county clerk's office, I found that Liam wasn't alone. The woman clinging intimately to his arm was very familiar to me. It was his ex-girlfriend, Mia. She and Liam had a toxic, on-again, off-again relationship for five years. Until I showed up. Now, Liam had "forgotten" me. And she was right back by his side. Seeing me, the smile on Mia's face vanished. She stammered, "Chloe, please don't misunderstand... Liam and I are just..." As she spoke, she didn't loosen her grip; she actually held onto him tighter. Liam proactively covered her hand with his own, claiming his territory: "I asked Mia to come with me. You don't have to misunderstand anything. She is my girlfriend." My heart violently seized. Meeting Mia's triumphant gaze, I numbly nodded my head. There weren't many people processing divorces today. When we got to the counter, the clerk shot me a bewildered look. She recognized me. Liam and I had just been here this morning to get our marriage certificate. She had even congratulated us: "Wishing you a lifetime of happiness." And now, we were back in the afternoon. To get a divorce. But the person holding Liam's arm wasn't me. It was Mia. I stood in front of them, a completely isolated figure. The clerk's lips moved silently as she cast a highly suspicious look at the three of us. After a long pause, she said, "This is highly unusual." Liam frowned. He was getting impatient. He made a phone call. Very quickly, thanks to his connections, the expedited annulment paperwork was pushed through. I clutched the stamped document in my hand, a bitter smile curling on my lips. Mia pretended to bring it up casually: "Since you're already divorced, you're not going to keep squatting at Liam's house, right?" She covered her mouth, feigning sympathy: "Oh, I'm sorry, I know you don't have anywhere else to go. You were married, after all... if you want to stay for a few days, Liam wouldn't mind..." Liam cut her off, his voice devoid of any emotion: "We're divorced. Move out today." It was so cold, so matter-of-fact. As if he wasn't the one faking his amnesia. My throat instantly tightened. The glaringly white annulment papers burned my eyes. He faked amnesia just for this, didn't he? Why bother? I was never the type to cling desperately to a dead relationship. If he wanted a divorce, why would I ever hold onto a man who didn't love me? It was just laughable that my five years of devotion couldn't even earn me an honest breakup. A marriage, ending in such an absurd, farcical tragedy. I took a deep breath. "Fine." 2 The car Liam was driving was the one we had picked out together to be our wedding car. When we bought it, Liam had told me: "On our wedding day, I'm going to drive this exact car to bring my Chloe home." I had never even sat in it yet. But right now, sitting in the passenger seat, was Mia. Liam leaned over to help her buckle her seatbelt. They were incredibly close. As Liam pulled back, Mia sweetly planted a kiss on his cheek. Instinctively, Liam looked up and locked eyes with me. Following Liam's gaze, Mia saw me and pouted, "Sorry, this is the car Liam bought for me. It belongs to me exclusively. I don't want any other woman sitting in it." Liam looked at her with pure indulgence. "Whatever you say." With that, Liam drove off with Mia, leaving me in the dust. The acrid smell of exhaust blew directly into my face. My nose stung, and my eyes gradually grew red. When I finally caught an Uber to the house, the massive front gates of the estate were locked tight. My luggage was thrown haphazardly outside the gates, scattered across the driveway. I knocked on the gate for a long time before the housekeeper, Maria, finally came out. She read the confusion in my eyes and hesitated before speaking: "Miss Mia ordered me to throw all of this out." Mia's voice floated over: "Oh? Are these your things? I'm so sorry, I thought it was just someone's abandoned trash, so I had them throw it all out. I didn't do it on purpose, you're not mad, are you?" Mia walked out, arms crossed over her chest, a faint, smug satisfaction in her eyes. I forced a smile. "Miss Mia, your upbringing is truly concerning." A harsh reprimand came from inside the house: "Chloe, don't push your luck! Mia already apologized to you, what more do you want?" I looked over. Liam walked up to Mia's side, his face cold as ice as he stared at me. His gaze swept over my scattered belongings on the ground, and he sneered: "What's the difference between this junk and actual trash? Only you would value garbage like this." My throat choked up. My heart suddenly seized so tightly I couldn't breathe, let alone speak. He impatiently urged me: "Stop wasting time. Pack up your trash and get out. I don't want to see you here again." The feeling was mutual. There was absolutely no point in arguing or tangling with him anymore. I swallowed the bitterness lodged in my throat and silently began picking up my things. Even though I hadn't lived here long, I had a lot of stuff. It packed two massive suitcases to the brim. This mansion was supposed to be our marital home. The meticulous interior design, the elegant, comfortable furniture... Every single detail, I had personally designed and arranged. Back then, I thought this was the home where Liam and I would spend the rest of our lives. But now, the house looked exactly the same, yet the person living in it wasn't me anymore. The scenery remained, but the people had changed. I dragged my two heavy suitcases and started walking away. Mia took a deep, exaggerated breath. "Now that the trash is gone, the air smells so much fresher." Hearing this, Liam ordered the housekeeper: "Maria, have a cleaning crew sanitize the house from top to bottom. If you find any more of her things, throw them straight into the dumpster." I stopped in my tracks. I sniffled hard, forcing back the tears pooling in my eyes. I turned my head and looked directly at Mia. "The trash I didn't want anymore... is all yours." 3 I found a random, cheap apartment and moved in. Once the adrenaline wore off, I was physically and mentally exhausted. I lay in bed, sleeping in a pitch-black room for two straight days. On the third day, I got a call from my business partner. I was a high-end wedding planner. My friend and I had started our own boutique agency. I had planned weddings for countless beautiful couples. And I had spent an entire month meticulously planning my own. Now, that wedding hadn't even happened, yet it was already a ghost of my past. When I heard the familiar names through the phone, my heart dropped. My voice trembled as I asked: "Who are the bride and groom?" The names Liam Vance and Mia Sterling drilled into my ears. My head was buzzing. Instinctively, I refused the job. My partner's fearful voice came through the receiver: "Chloe, you know how powerful the Vance family is..." With a single word, Liam could ensure I would never find work in this city again. I hung up the phone, collapsing back onto the bed. Liam was coming for me. He specifically requested me to plan his wedding. I couldn't hide. I hurriedly got ready and rushed to the wedding venue. The venue was a massive, luxury estate in the wine country. The estate featured a breathtaking, endless sea of lavender. When the breeze blew, the lavender swayed like a dream. I had originally booked this venue because lavender was my absolute favorite flower. I had hoped that on the most important day of my life, I could stand in a sea of lavender, holding hands with the man I loved, stepping into our future. But seeing this field of flowers now, a thick, suffocating bitterness wrapped around my heart. I forced the bitterness down and maintained a strictly professional demeanor as I discussed the wedding details with Mia. She was dissatisfied with everything, constantly pointing fingers, making me revise and change every little detail. Liam sat patiently by her side. His arm was wrapped around her waist, his face entirely devoid of impatience. Just days ago, he had held me exactly like this, listening tirelessly as I planned our wedding. After torturing me for four hours, Mia finally said: "Forget it, let's just stick to the original plan. After all, Miss Chloe is the most familiar with it. I feel safe leaving it in your hands." I stared at the dense notes on my iPad, my fingers gripping the edges tightly. The "original plan" she was talking about was the exact blueprint I had designed for my own wedding. Of course I was familiar with it. Seeing my tightly pursed lips, Mia curled her mouth into a delighted smirk. She said casually: "The wedding is tomorrow afternoon. I know it's a bit rushed, but I believe Miss Chloe can pull it off perfectly, right?" I froze for a second. My wedding with Liam was originally scheduled for tomorrow afternoon as well. I looked up, meeting Mia's smug, victorious gaze. The wedding I had spent a month pouring my heart into was now hers. It was sickening. After a long silence, I forced a single word out of my throat: "Yes." Mia leaned against Liam, a dagger hidden in her smile: "Liam, Miss Chloe has been such a huge help. We definitely have to give her a massive tip on our wedding day." Liam said coldly: "This is what she's supposed to do. Otherwise, why would I pay her?" Hearing this, Mia's smile grew even wider. I pressed my lips together and closed my eyes. My heart was so exhausted. So tired that I didn't even have the energy to argue. After a moment of silence, I said quietly: "You are the clients. The client is always right." 4 Once they left, I let out a long sigh of relief. I truly did not want to tangle with them anymore. But once some plays begin, I can't just call "cut" whenever I want. I rubbed my temples. I couldn't relax yet. They got to leave easily, dumping a massive mess in my lap. Thankfully, because I had been prepping this wedding for a month, the logistics were 80% complete. I just needed to tie up the loose ends. Despite that, I still ended up pulling an all-nighter. The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed. I had only slept for two hours. But the wedding was today, and I still had a million fires to put out. During the setup, I was so exhausted I could barely stand straight. I closed my eyes, my head spinning, my footsteps stumbling. Suddenly, someone caught my arm to steady me. I opened my eyes. It was Liam. Instinctively, I shoved him away. A flash of shock crossed his face, quickly replaced by a cold glare: "Why are you standing around daydreaming? The wedding is pure chaos right now, shouldn't you be out there managing it?" I forced a weak smile. The money is hard to earn, and the shit is hard to swallow. I didn't have the energy to fight him. I turned around to walk away, but someone called my name. Mia, wearing a stunning, extravagant purple bridal gown that cinched her tiny waist, walked gracefully toward us. My eyes unavoidably landed on her dress. This exact dress was the one Liam had originally chosen for me. And now, it was on Mia's body. My fingernails dug into my palms, the sharp pain tugging at the snapping string of my sanity. Mia smugly twirled in front of me. She wore a fake, sickeningly sweet smile: "Miss Chloe, do you think this dress looks good? Does it fit the vibe of the venue today?" I couldn't speak. I just nodded randomly. Her smile widened, her eyes locking onto me darkly: "I wonder if we could ask Miss Chloe to be our wedding MC today?" The string in my mind finally snapped. I clenched my jaw, staying silent. Liam said softly: "Mia, stop playing around. It's not appropriate." Mia grabbed his arm and whined: "Why isn't it appropriate? I believe in Miss Chloe's abilities! If she's been in this industry for so long and can't even MC a wedding, why does she even own a wedding planning company?" Liam, completely whipped by her whining, coaxed her gently: "Alright, whatever you want." His cold gaze shifted to me, his tone rigid: "Miss Chloe, you will be the MC for our wedding today." A bitter smile crept onto my lips: "And if I refuse?" Liam furrowed his brow, threatening me directly: "Then I can only assume you lack the professional capability. And I think a company like yours has no business surviving in this city." I bit down hard on the tip of my tongue. The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth, forcing the lump in my throat back down. How humiliating. Couldn't we just part ways peacefully? I was never going to stalk him or beg for him back. Even without this humiliation today, I would have avoided them like the plague forever. Why did he have to degrade me like this? I nodded numbly. With heavy, exhausted steps, I walked past them. But as I brushed past Mia, I paused. I asked in a low voice: "Miss Mia, do you really just love wearing other people's hand-me-downs?" 5 The words slipped out before I could stop them. I didn't stick around to see the dark, furious look on Mia's face; I just kept walking quickly. The wedding officially began at 6:00 PM. The sky was ablaze with a breathtaking, fiery sunset. The golden hour light spilled over the sea of lavender, looking like a literal dream. Mia, in her gorgeous purple gown, walked slowly through the lavender fields. Amidst thunderous applause, she placed her hand into Liam's. My eyes suddenly welled with tears. This wedding was the exact carbon copy of the one I had spent a month planning. I had envisioned this exact moment in my head countless times. But the bride wasn't me. My love story had mutated into something unrecognizable. I stood there like a marionette, numbly reciting the MC script I had prepared. The entire venue was filled with laughter and joy, while my heart was as dead and still as a stagnant pool of water. The wedding celebrations lasted late into the night. I stumbled back to my crappy apartment. The moment I hit the mattress, I passed out into a heavy, feverish sleep. I woke up to my phone ringing incessantly. My face was flushed, and my forehead was burning up. I had a severe fever. The phone wouldn't stop ringing. I forced myself up and fumbled for it. My vision was blurry; I couldn't read the caller ID. But the familiar voice came through the speaker. I knew it was Liam. He was speaking in a deeply annoyed tone: "Mia, what is wrong with you? Can you put a little effort in? Can't you handle the basic logistics after the wedding? You've been missing all morning..." I casually hung up the phone. I didn't have time for his unhinged rambling. I was the boss of my company; I didn't need to micromanage every single minor post-event detail. My body felt like it was falling apart. I managed to find some meds and dry-swallowed them. The moment I lay back down, I passed out again. My dreams were an absolute mess. Memories of Liam and me cut through my nightmares like shards of glass. They crashed down on me, shattering into pieces, leaving me bruised and bleeding. I was sick for an entire week. At its worst, I had to go to the hospital and get an IV drip for three days. By the time I recovered, the potted lavender I kept on my windowsill had withered and died. The language of lavender means "waiting for love." But my love had withered. Even the memories were nothing but humiliation and degradation now. I blocked Liam's number. Since he wanted to fake amnesia, I wanted him to commit to the bit completely. It would be best if we never crossed paths again for the rest of our lives. I didn't want to stay in this city. I started traveling for work constantly. When I returned from my final business trip, a month had already passed. As I walked out of my office building, a black Mercedes was parked by the curb. A man was leaning against the door, smoking a cigarette. The smoke obscured his face. His gaze suddenly locked onto me. He crushed the cigarette out and walked quickly toward me. It was Liam. Before I could dodge him, he grabbed my wrist. He looked completely unhinged as he interrogated me: "Chloe, where the hell did you go?! Why didn't you come looking for me?!" I pressed my lips tightly together. I looked up, my face completely blank. I looked at him defensively and asked: "Excuse me, sir, who are you? Do I know you?" 6 The shock on Liam's face was impossible to hide. His grip on my wrist tightened anxiously. "Chloe, what nonsense are you spouting? Do you really not know who I am?!" A sharp pain shot through my wrist. I frowned, my eyes turning cold. "Sir, please let go. This is harassment. If you don't let go, I'm calling the police." Liam didn't let go. His eyes searched my face. Seeing the genuine lack of recognition in my eyes, sheer panic and terror washed over his features. His voice shook: "Chloe, it's me, Liam. I'm your... husband." I didn't believe him. In my struggle to break free, I bit his hand hard. He flinched in pain but still wouldn't let go. I screamed at the top of my lungs: "HELP!" He tried to cover my mouth, but it was too late. Passersby immediately crowded around us. He frantically tried to explain: "I'm her husband! We're just having a fight!" I pulled his hand away and yelled in panic: "He's lying! I don't know him!" Seeing my distress, the crowd aggressively pinned Liam down. A good Samaritan called the cops. The police car took both of us to the precinct. Liam was my husband. Keyword: was. Now, he was just my ex-husband. The date on our marriage certificate and the date on our divorce decree were exactly the same. Our married life didn't even last 24 hours. After looking into the records and realizing the truth, the officers looked at Liam with pure disgust. After a severe, humiliating lecture from the cops, Liam was finally released. Standing outside the precinct, Liam's eyes were glued to me. He asked hoarsely: "Chloe, do you really not remember me?" I took a few steps back in disgust, speaking coldly: "I got severely sick a month ago and lost a lot of my memories. Should I remember you? If I forgot you, it just means you weren't important." Hearing this, Liam looked incredibly hurt. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something. I cut him off: "I heard you're my ex-husband. Since you managed to become my ex-husband, I assume there's absolutely no need for us to stay in contact." Liam panicked instantly: "Chloe, please, let me explain..." "Liam!" Mia's voice cut through the air. I looked over. Mia was practically sprinting toward us, glaring at me with absolute hostility. She aggressively linked her arm through Liam's, staking her claim, and demanded: "Why are you here?!" I let out a scoff: "Are you his wife? You should probably be interrogating your husband instead of harassing an innocent bystander!" Mia looked suspicious, but forced a confident front: "Liam would never do anything wrong." But, highly out of character, Liam violently shoved Mia's arm away. From start to finish, he didn't even look at her. He took a step toward me, but stopped, seemingly stung by my defensive glare. He explained, his voice thick with emotion: "Chloe, she's not my wife. I never married her. You are my only wife." Mia's face instantly turned black. She anxiously grabbed for Liam's hand, her voice frantic: "Liam, let's go home, okay?" Liam shoved her away out of pure reflex. Mia fell hard onto the concrete, letting out a cry of pain. She started crying pitifully: "Liam, it hurts." But this still didn't grab Liam's attention. His eyes were dead-set on me. His voice sounded almost pathetic: "Chloe, please, let me explain. I had amnesia before, and I was tricked into divorcing you. But now I remember everything..." I interrupted him impatiently: "I don't care. Please stop harassing me."
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