1 Every time Sylvie returned home from visiting her hospitalized childhood sweetheart, she’d banish me to the hallway as punishment. “If you hadn’t stopped me from going out that day, Trent wouldn’t have drunk-driven, and he wouldn’t have crashed!” Today, Sylvie once again threw me out of the house, threatening to call off our engagement. Freezing and starving, I collapsed on the spot. When I woke, the first thing I did was agree with Sylvie. “Fine, cancel it.” Because every time she’d mentioned breaking up, I’d torn a page from the journal I kept for her. And today, with ninety-nine pages already ripped out, only the last one remained. My love for her, too, had finally dwindled to nothing. I had undergone memory erasure surgery. “How long will it take to forget everything about her?” “Seven days.” … I returned home from the surgery to an empty house. Everything was exactly as I’d left it three days ago; even the fruit on the table had begun to mold. It was clear Sylvie hadn’t been home in three days either. No wonder. Not a single text, not a single call from her in that time. In the past, I would have already been meekly calling to beg for reconciliation. Now, I felt a strange relief that she wasn’t there. The doctor had said I needed to rest well for seven days. Only when every memory of Sylvie completely faded would the surgery truly be a success. I yearned for that success, feeling the occasional, faint prickling in my brain. Many memories of Sylvie slowly began to blur. I sank onto the sofa and, without realizing it, drifted off to sleep. “Ethan! I’ve only been gone for three days! Are you trying to turn this place into a pigsty?!” A furious shout jolted me awake. I opened my eyes to see Sylvie walking through the door. She chastised me, her gaze sweeping over the cluttered table. Clearly, she had no idea I’d spent three days in the hospital. Of course, her time was entirely devoted to Trent; she had no energy to worry about me. Too tired to argue, I stood and headed for the bathroom. She irritably blocked my path. “I’m talking to you! Did you lose your tongue?” I sighed. “I didn’t do it. I haven’t been home these past few days, I…” “You haven’t been home?! Where were you?!” she snapped, cutting me off. The next second, she muttered to herself, “Never mind. You have nowhere to go here anyway, except the internet café downstairs.” Suddenly, like a blast of winter air, a chilling realization hit me. She knew I had nowhere else to go. Seven years ago, Sylvie and I began an online romance. For her, I had a massive fight with my parents, then moved across the country to her city. She’d told me she didn’t care about my background or my poverty, only my ambition. I worked myself to the bone, earning every penny. Aside from essential expenses, my socks were threadbare and my shirt collars frayed, but I couldn’t bring myself to replace them. I wanted to build her a beautiful future with my own two hands. Seven years passed. I finally had the car and the apartment she’d wanted, and she finally accepted my proposal. I thought a life of perfect harmony awaited us. But then, three months ago, her ex-boyfriend, Trent, returned from abroad. When he heard she was marrying me, he got completely plastered. I refused to let her, a woman, go pick him up. Trent, in a fit of pique, drunk-drove and shattered his leg. I honestly didn’t feel I was much to blame for that incident, yet Sylvie laid all the fault squarely on me. For three months, she cooked meals and simmered soups, taking them to the hospital to visit Trent, while I was met with humiliation, beatings, and banishment from our home. The moment I collapsed outside the door three days ago, she was inside, on a video call with Trent. In that moment, my seven years felt like a cruel joke. And now, I would spend seven days erasing her completely. 2 “I just came back to shower and change. I’m heading back to the hospital to take care of Trent. You know he can’t be left alone right now.” Sylvie didn’t notice anything amiss, muttering on and on, not even giving me a chance to react. With that, she simply walked into the bedroom to change. I headed into the bathroom, pretending I hadn’t heard a thing. A moment later, she knocked on the bathroom door. “Ethan, don’t be mad. I’ll bring you something good to eat tonight when I come back.” Unsurprisingly, she didn't come home all night. And unlike before, I didn’t wait up for her. Instead, I cooked myself a meal and ate without a single care. The next day, she still didn't return, only sending me a text. “Trent has a fever.” I just found it amusing. She seemed to have forgotten I had her burner account. She’d just posted a video of her and Trent at an amusement park, watching fireworks. In the bottom right corner of the video, two hands were clasped tightly together. The caption was explicit: Nothing is happier than having the one you love most by your side. Trent was the one she loved most. So what about me? Who would love me? Day five of the countdown. Sylvie returned. She walked in without even glancing at me. “Ethan, I went to see the wedding venue yesterday. Since you wouldn’t pick up my calls, I asked Trent to come with me. Oh, and by the way, his leg’s much better, he’s already been discharged.” Seeing her lie so effortlessly, I couldn’t help but blurt out, “When did you call me?” At my words, she nervously averted her gaze. “Maybe I misremembered… I’m just going to the restroom.” She fled in a rush. The moment she closed the door, her phone, left on the sofa, vibrated. The glowing screen showed her chat with Trent. It was impossible not to see it. Trent asked, “You secretly changed the wedding theme. Ethan won’t be upset, will he?” Sylvie replied, “What matters is what you like. As for him, I’ll just sweet-talk him a bit. Wrapping him around my finger is as easy as training a dog.” The wedding theme, originally my preferred white, had been changed to blue. And her opinion of me? That I was like a dog. My brain throbbed with intense pain, like a blender churning wildly. In that moment, I decided. The wedding in five days would be for her and Trent. Just then, HR from my company called, informing me that my resignation, submitted two days prior, had been accepted. I needed to pick up my belongings. I walked out of the house and called a colleague. He was a co-worker, and my only friend in this city. We agreed to meet at a restaurant. I told him I was leaving. His eyes reddened. “Ethan, you should have lived for yourself a long time ago. A woman like her isn’t worth this much from you.” Suddenly, a call from Sylvie interrupted my friend. “Ethan, why did you go out without telling me? Also, I heard you resigned. Why did you suddenly quit without discussing it with me?” Her quick grasp of the news caught me off guard. My heart sank. “Work was too exhausting. And our wedding is coming up soon, so I want to focus on planning it.” At my words, Sylvie was silent for a few seconds. “I knew it. You wouldn’t be so unreasonable.” She was always so domineering, so convinced I could never leave her. Before I could speak, she commanded me again. “I’m coming to pick you up. Where are you?” Half an hour later, Sylvie drove up to the restaurant entrance to get me. She didn’t ask who I was having dinner with, but subtly scrutinized me. “Next time you go out, dress better. Don’t let people laugh at you.” I dressed warmly, like a bear, because I was sensitive to cold. I’d always dressed like this, but she’d never commented before. Soon, I understood why she suddenly said that. Because there was a comparison. She drove me to another upscale restaurant. The moment I pushed open the private room door, I realized with a jolt that it was a banquet. Everyone present was impeccably dressed, especially Trent, who was surrounded by the crowd. Suit and tie, the picture of an elite. Sylvie shoved me into the private room. My pilled jacket, under the bright lights, looked so shabby, so utterly out of place. 3 As everyone started talking, I realized this banquet was Sylvie’s specially prepared birthday party for Trent. “You just got out of the hospital a few days ago, so consider this your welcome-back party.” Sylvie’s gaze was fixed on Trent, utterly unable to move. I sat in the corner, watching her and Trent, surrounded by well-wishers, their eyes conveying their deep love for each other. Even though I’d forgotten many things, even the beginning of my acquaintance with Sylvie, the pain in my heart was undiminished. “Ethan, you’re really something, managing to snag our school’s most beautiful girl!” “Yeah, back then, the guys pursuing Sylvie stretched all the way to Paris! Ethan, you’re so lucky!” “Ethan, what’s your secret? Tell us.” Everyone looked at me with eager gossip. I found it amusing. What secret? It was just that Sylvie had just broken up with Trent back then, and she was nursing a broken heart. I became her tool to forget him. Now Trent was back, and it was time for this tool to step aside. Seeing the conversation shift to me, Sylvie spoke up to save me. “What secret could he possibly have? He’s just an ordinary guy. Stop making fun of me.” Her expression was genuine, tinged with obvious disdain. Just then, Trent suddenly raised his glass and walked towards me. “Mr. Reed, it was very kind of you to allow Sylvie to visit and care for me every day while I was in the hospital. I want to thank you for your generosity.” It was meant as a toast, but it felt more like an insult. Sylvie had been visiting and caring for her ex-boyfriend every day, and I, her fiancé, was supposed to be “generous” enough not to care. Others looked at me with amusement and mockery. I didn’t want to cause a scene; after all, they outnumbered me. “I’m not feeling well. I can’t drink.” The next second, Trent’s face darkened. “What do you mean ‘not feeling well’? I think you just don’t want to give me face. If you’re not going to be respectful, why even come and embarrass me?” He set down his glass, looking utterly wronged. “Fine, I’m leaving.” As I turned to go, Sylvie suddenly blocked my path. She shoved the glass into my hand, then leaned close, lowering her voice to a whisper. “It’s Trent’s birthday. Don’t ruin the mood right now!” “He just got out of the hospital, and he hasn’t even said he’s not feeling well, but you are?!” “If you don’t want to stand in the hallway as punishment tonight, then drink up!” The liquor sloshed out, splashing onto my already shabby clothes. Sylvie pulled her hand back in disgust. I clenched the glass, looking at her, and suddenly remembered when I first started working. Back then, I often had to attend dinner parties with my bosses, forced to drink. Once, I got drunk and took the subway home, only to have my phone stolen and my ticket disappear, leaving me unable to exit. Before the staff arrived, I suddenly broke down, hiding behind a pillar and sobbing uncontrollably. At that time, I missed home, I missed my mom, I couldn’t understand why I’d thrown everything away to come to a strange city. Later, Sylvie found me in the subway station, holding me, tears of sympathy streaming down her face. “Ethan, if you don’t want to drink, then don’t. We’ll never drink again, okay? If anyone ever forces you to drink again, I’ll tell them off! We’ll never drink again!” She held me tightly, promising me forever. I thought I had finally found my place in life. But now, the person forcing me to drink was the same person who had once cried for me. Many memories suddenly became blurred in my mind, and Sylvie’s face slowly lost its clarity. I raised the glass. “Fine, I’ll drink.” Consider it a farewell drink. The moment I set the glass down, my phone chimed. A text message from the bank. “Mr. Reed, today is your birthday. Happy Birthday!” 4 My eyes red-rimmed, I left the private room amidst a chorus of mockery. Sylvie didn’t come with me; she personally shut the door in my face. I walked out into the cold wind, rushing to the main entrance where I emptied the contents of my stomach, throwing up all the alcohol. My head throbbed, a relentless pounding, and more memories began to blur. Back home, I collapsed into bed, falling into a deep sleep. For the next two days, Sylvie still didn’t come home. I didn’t look for her. Instead, I busied myself with preparing for my departure. I thought she wouldn’t return before I left. Yet, the morning before our wedding, she appeared in my bed. She wore a thin nightgown, burrowing into my arms. “Husband, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have forced you to drink in that private room. My parents have been scolding me terribly these past two days, I know I was wrong…” If it weren’t for the suggestive red marks on her neck, I might have almost believed she had truly come home. I pushed her away and got up. “I’m not angry.” Many things were unclear in my mind now, and many emotions had simply vanished. At my words, she hugged me from behind and chuckled. “Tomorrow’s our wedding! You promised to treat my close relatives to a dinner first. You can’t go back on your word, okay?” Had I promised? I didn’t remember. But I didn’t ask. I just nodded. “Okay.” That evening, she left to pick up her relatives first. When I rode my bike to the destination, I was hit by someone, scraping my knee. But fearing I’d delay dinner, I refused to go to the hospital, just bandaging it haphazardly. I never expected Sylvie to vanish without a trace. For three whole hours, I couldn’t find her. I clutched my wound, standing in the cold wind. Just as I was about to give up, Sylvie’s call came through. “Ethan, Trent’s leg was hurting, so I took him to the hospital first. Forget about dinner with the relatives. Anyway, tomorrow’s the wedding.” Her voice was so light, so indifferent, not once asking about my situation. The next second, Trent’s voice came through the phone. “Sylvie, after you marry him, will you still have dinner with me like this?” “My marriage to him is just a formality. It won’t affect our relationship.” So, while I waited in the cold wind, she and Trent were having a romantic dinner for two. My dream of a marriage, for her, was just a formality. My injured knee throbbed even more, and my memories of Sylvie blurred further. I hung up the phone and returned home alone. The entire house was filled with Sylvie’s traces. I packed all her belongings and threw them outside. Just as I took out the journal I’d written for her, seeing it completely blank, Sylvie’s frantic call came in. “Ethan, what are you doing?! Trent’s leg hurts, and no one’s taking care of him. What’s wrong with me bringing him some food?!” “Do you want me to stay home forever, never going anywhere, for you to be satisfied?!” “Don’t even think about sleeping in our bed tonight! Stand in the hallway! Stand there until the wedding party arrives tomorrow morning!” She was still demanding I stand in the hallway as punishment, just as she had a hundred times before, completely disregarding my well-being. In the past, I would have meekly begged for her love, terrified of displeasing her. But in that moment, I found myself smiling as I agreed. “Okay.” After hanging up, I got into a car heading for the airport. As the plane took off, large blank spaces appeared in my mind. I seemed to have forgotten something, yet I felt a lightness I’d never experienced before. The morning of my second day home, my parents called me down for breakfast. They said, “Mr. Nelson’s daughter heard you’re back from working out of state and wants to meet you. Do you remember her? You two used to play house when you were little, even saying you’d marry when you grew up.” I couldn't quite recall, but I agreed to meet her. When I arrived at the coffee shop, an unknown number called. A strange woman shrieked on the other end of the line. “Ethan Reed! Did you forget it’s our wedding today?! Where are you?! Where did you run off to?! Do you even want to marry me anymore?!”
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "392715", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel