1 The day before our wedding, Michael Holland died in a car crash. Everyone expected me to fall apart, but I didn’t shed a tear. Five years later, in a chance encounter at a hotel, he was back from the dead, with a convenient case of amnesia. Eggged on by a crowd of his friends, he was locked in a deep, lingering kiss with my stepsister. When he saw me standing alone, a smug grin spread across his face. “So you’re the fiancée I left behind? Still waiting for me after five years? You’re some kind of super-simp, aren’t you? Can’t live without me?” “I know you’re dying for me,” he continued, oozing arrogance. “And look, since you’ve been so loyal all this time, I’ll consider keeping you on the side. But the title of Mrs. Holland is reserved for Chloe. I’ll be with her Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I can see you on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. You should be thrilled.” I was, in fact, thrilled. “I’m sorry,” I said, a small smile playing on my lips. “You must have me confused with someone else.” What Michael didn’t know was that on the night of his “fatal” accident, I received a video. What he knew even less was that during the five years he and my dear stepsister were living it up, I had married another man. And we had a four-year-old daughter. And that man… was his uncle. … I never imagined that the first time I saw Michael again, it would be like this. His arm was wrapped tightly around Chloe’s waist, their bodies pressed together as he responded to the rowdy cheers of their friends with a kiss so deep a string of saliva connected them when they finally pulled apart. Chloe melted into his arms, her cheeks flushed a bright pink. “I give up,” she pouted, her voice a breathy whisper. “You kiss so hard I can’t even breathe. You’re such a beast. I’m ignoring you now!” Michael nuzzled her neck. “You think that’s beastly? You weren’t saying that last night when you were begging me to—” The private room erupted in another round of boisterous laughter. Chloe playfully tried to cover his mouth, her body draped over him like a boneless doll. Someone in the crowd called out, “So, Michael, my man. It’s been five years. You really done with Evelyn for good?” Michael leaned back into the plush sofa, shrugging with casual indifference. “Of course not. I’m just not done playing yet. Once Chloe and I are married, my memory will magically come back.” “Yeah, right!” another friend jeered. “Everyone knows she worships the ground you walk on. The second she finds out you’re alive, she’ll be back to her old tricks, probably crawling up a mountain on her knees to thank God you’re safe, just like she did five years ago.” “Hahaha, I can’t! Just thinking about how pathetic and desperate she was makes me die laughing. She’s the queen of all simps. I heard she had a rough time abroad these past five years. Probably can’t even function without you.” The laughter in the room was deafening, nearly shaking the walls. I had intended to leave, but someone with sharp eyes spotted me. “Evelyn!” The same guy who had just been laughing the loudest at my expense now looked awkwardly at me. “Hey! Michael’s alive! We didn’t tell you because… well, he has amnesia, and he’s with someone else now. We were just trying to protect you.” “Yeah, that’s right!” another chimed in. “We all know you’re the one he really loves, but he just doesn’t remember you. If you make a scene now, he’ll just think you’re crazy.” Before I could say a word, Michael let out a derisive snort. “So, you’re the one. The fiancée who’s supposedly dying of love for me?” His eyes swept over my simple, understated dress with a look of pure disgust. “Look at the state of you. You really fell apart without me, didn’t you? Is your life that meaningless?” He was still the same Michael. Arrogant, condescending, and utterly convinced of his own importance. Five years had passed. Looking at the smug satisfaction in his eyes, I felt none of the old flutterings in my heart. Only revulsion. I had just gotten off a plane, still fighting off jet lag. The only reason I was at this hotel was to pick up a strawberry mousse for my daughter; it was her favorite, and this was the only place that made it. Seeing my silence, he lazily pulled Chloe closer and gave her a short, passionate French kiss right in front of me. “Oh, stop it,” Chloe giggled, swatting his chest. “My sister is watching.” I pressed my lips together, a wave of nausea rolling through me. Michael completely misinterpreted my expression. A pleased look crossed his face. “What’s there to be afraid of? You’re going to be Mrs. Holland. If she wants to stick around, she’ll have to get used to it.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Look, for the sake of the five years you kept yourself pure for me, I’ll keep you as my mistress. I’ll spend three days a week with Chloe, and three days with you. And on Sundays, you can come over and wait on both of us.” His friends immediately jumped in to support him. “See, Evelyn? Even with amnesia, he hasn’t forgotten you! He’s giving you three days a week!” “Yeah, you look like hell. You must have been scrubbing toilets and waiting tables to get by overseas, right? You should say yes before he changes his mind. Then you won’t get to see him even if you get on your knees and beg.” Chloe tightened her grip on Michael’s arm, a clear display of ownership, and looked at me with open provocation. “I’m so sorry, sister. But what can I do? Michael only loves me now. You’ll just have to be the dirty little secret on the side.” “A secret?” Michael scoffed. “She can’t live without me. She’d jump off a bridge if I told her to.” A faint, sharp pang went through my chest. Five years ago, in that car crash, he had thrown his body over mine, shielding me from the impact. Just before he closed his eyes, he had held my trembling hand, his voice weak but steady. “Don’t be scared, baby. I’m tough. I’m not gonna die. I told you, I’ll be your guardian angel forever. No one will ever hurt you.” The man who had loved me so much… could he really have changed this completely, just because of amnesia? I pushed down the bitterness in my heart, took a deep breath, and smiled faintly. “I’m sorry. You’ve all made a mistake.” I held up my hand, showing them the simple, elegant ring on my finger. “And besides, I’m already married.” For a few seconds, the room was dead silent. Then, it exploded with roaring laughter. Michael raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Married? To who, the garbage man? The street sweeper?” “Evelyn, you can’t possibly think a pathetic lie like that is going to make me jealous, can you? Have you lost your mind?” Before I could react, he grabbed my wrist and ripped the ring from my finger. I winced in pain. Just as I was about to speak, Chloe burst out laughing. “Michael, honey, isn’t that ‘The Eternal Love’? The one your uncle bought at that auction in Paris five years ago for twenty million?” “Oh my god, sister,” she continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “you’re not going to tell us you married Uncle Julian, are you? That you’re Michael’s aunt now?” The laughter in the room grew even louder. Everyone knew that the current head of the Holland family was Michael’s uncle, Julian Holland. Though only five years older than Michael, he was a man whose name alone commanded respect. He was handsome, incredibly wealthy, and notoriously devoted to his wife. After five years of marriage, almost no one had ever seen his wife or daughter; he kept them completely hidden from the public eye. “Don’t tell me, sister,” Chloe taunted. “Are you trying to say you’re the mysterious wife Julian Holland has been hiding away for five years?” Someone else picked up my ring. “I gotta say, it’s a pretty good fake. Must have cost a fortune. Evelyn really went all out to try and trick you, Michael.” Faced with their ridicule, I tried to explain. “It’s not a fake. This ring is real—” Before I could finish, a hand swung through the air and a white-hot sting exploded across my cheek. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Michael snarled, his face contorted with rage. “You can lie about anyone, but you bring my uncle into this? Everyone knows how much he loves his wife! You think he’d want you, my sloppy seconds? If you don’t have a mirror, go find a puddle and take a good look at yourself! I can’t stand women who lie just to get attention. I must have been blind to ever fall for someone like you. How pathetic!” I slowly turned my head back to face him, cradling my cheek. Perhaps it was the calmness in my eyes, but he suddenly looked away, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. But Chloe wasn’t about to let it go. “Sister, Michael has amnesia and he’s still willing to keep you as a mistress. You should be grateful! Instead, you’re trying to cause trouble for him. You know how protective Uncle Julian is of his wife. By pretending to be her, you’re just asking for trouble for Michael! You’re so selfish and cruel!” Chloe was my stepfather’s daughter. The day of my own father’s funeral, while we were still at the service, my mother forced me to accept her as my new, younger sister. She was like a shadow, a specter determined to destroy anything good in my life. If she could steal it, she would. If she couldn’t, she’d ruin it. Five years ago, Michael had stood in front of me like a god, shielding me from her, his voice cold with fury as he told her to back off. Now, it was the same man. But this time, he was standing in front of Chloe, shielding her from me. He pulled out a thick wad of cash and threw it in my face. “This is what you want, isn’t it? Money. Go on, pick it up.” The sharp edge of a bill cut my forehead. A small bead of blood welled up. I didn’t wipe it away. For a split second, I saw a flicker of something—unease, maybe even concern—in Michael’s eyes. The next moment, I bent down. He let out a sigh of relief, a mocking smile returning to his face. “That’s more like it. A good little simp knows her place…” I ignored the red bills scattered on the floor and picked up the ring that had been tossed into a corner. Michael stared at me, his eyes wide with disbelief. A strange, unfamiliar panic began to stir within him. As I turned to leave, he grabbed my arm. “Are you addicted to this act? Isn’t there enough money there to buy a hundred of your fake rings?” I didn’t understand his sudden anger. “Let go of me.” “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” he seethed, his teeth clenched. “Fine. Chloe and I are getting married in a week. My uncle will be back in the country for it. You should come. I’ll let him get a good look at you, see just how shameless my discarded trash can be.” At the mention of marriage, Chloe’s face lit up with undisguised glee. “You’re not going to be too scared to show up, are you, sister?” I carefully put the ring away. “Fine,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion. “I’ll be there. I hope you don’t regret it.” I walked out of the room, pausing for a moment in the hallway. I heard one of Michael’s friends sigh. “Dude, you sure you didn’t take it too far? Something about Evelyn seems… off. What if she really is married?” “No way,” Michael said, his voice full of certainty. “She’s just putting on a show. All I have to do is crook my little finger and she’ll come crawling back.” He seemed to recall the unnerving calm in my eyes as I left, and he nervously licked his lips. “I’m done playing around anyway. After the wedding, I’ll ‘get my memory back.’ I’ll tell her a sob story, tell her she’s the only one I’ve ever loved. She’ll be back to licking my boots in no time.” “You’re the man, Michael! Faking amnesia, partying for five years, and you still have her wrapped around your finger.” Chloe pouted. “But what about me, Michael, honey? What happens when you get your memory back?” Michael squeezed her waist. “The same thing that’s happening now, of course. Besides, isn’t sneaking around more exciting?” I listened to their conversation, a deep, chilling cold spreading through my heart. I walked quickly to the hotel entrance, taking several deep breaths to quell the rising nausea. What Michael didn’t know was that five years ago, on the night he “died” in that car crash, I had received a video. I pulled out my phone and played it. His voice, laced with laughter, filled the air. “I love Evelyn, I do. But she’s so… bland. The thought of being with only one woman for the rest of my life is just so boring. I’m going to fake my death, go have some fun for a few years. When I come back, I’ll just say I have amnesia. You guys better get lots of videos of her falling apart. I can’t wait to see her completely shattered without me.” The day the doctors pronounced him dead, I gave him exactly what he wanted. The despair was so absolute, so soul-crushing, that I couldn’t even cry. I wanted to die with him. It was his “good friends” who held me back, who saved me. I never noticed the phone, hidden in the corner, recording my agony. I never noticed the mocking smirks they fought to hide behind their masks of feigned grief. I put my phone away. From that day on, Michael faked his death. But in my heart, he was well and truly dead. The news that Michael was alive, coupled with his impending wedding, caused a massive stir. That night, Chloe updated her social media. A romantic wedding venue. A stunning, one-of-a-kind wedding dress. A diamond ring called “The Eternal Love.” Everything had been for me. Everything was what Michael had meticulously planned for our wedding. In the photo, their hands were intertwined, the caption a string of nauseatingly sweet nothings. I glanced at it and was about to close the app when a message from Michael popped up. “Are you dying of jealousy yet?” I deleted and blocked him. Immediately, a message from Chloe appeared. “See that? You’re just a dog we keep around for our entertainment. I’m the only one who deserves to be Mrs. Holland.” I gave her the same treatment. A week later, the wedding day arrived. My daughter was being particularly clingy, so by the time I got to the hotel, the ceremony was already at the ring exchange. Michael, who had been anxiously glancing at the door, visibly relaxed the moment he saw me. A slow, triumphant smile spread across his face. When the officiant asked if he would take the bride to be his wife, he deliberately paused, drawing out the moment. But I gave him no reaction. He watched as I calmly helped myself to a piece of cake from the dessert table, and his face instantly darkened. Suddenly, someone shoved me hard from behind. I stumbled forward, crashing into a table laden with champagne glasses. A tower of champagne, taller than I was, came crashing down. A cascade of alcohol and shattered glass rained down on me. Blood trickled down from my forehead, blurring my vision. Through the haze, I thought I saw Michael take two anxious steps toward me, but Chloe beat him to it. She grabbed me, her face a mask of tear-streaked sorrow. “Sister! I invited you to my wedding out of the kindness of my heart! How could you ruin it like this? I know you’re jealous that Michael only loves me now, but you can hit me, you can scream at me! Why did you have to destroy my happiness? Do you hate the thought of me being happy that much?” Her grip was surprisingly strong, her sharp nails digging into my skin. It was so painful my scalp tingled. As I instinctively tried to push her away, she let out a sharp cry and threw herself backward. The next second, I was shoved violently aside. My ankle twisted under me in my high heels, and I gasped in pain. I looked up and met Michael’s furious gaze. “Are you some kind of leech? I don’t even remember you, and you’re still throwing yourself at me! I have never met a more shameless woman in my life. Apologize to Chloe, now!” The ballroom was filled with guests, many of whom had only come in the hopes of seeing Julian Holland. Eager to get on Michael’s good side, they all turned on me. “Have some dignity! The man doesn’t even remember you, and you’re still chasing after him like a stray dog. It’s pathetic.” “And to ruin her own sister’s wedding! She’s just a bitter, evil woman. Michael, you really dodged a bullet not marrying a curse like her.” Chloe, nestled safely in Michael’s arms, pointed a trembling finger at my hand. “Sister, I told you Uncle Julian was coming today. How could you still wear that fake ‘Eternal Love’ ring? Are you saying you love Michael, but you’re really trying to seduce his uncle?” Her words drew everyone’s attention to my hand. Someone in the crowd immediately piped up. “I heard a story once. Some woman showed up pregnant, claiming the baby was Mr. Holland’s. All Mrs. Holland did was take off her ‘Eternal Love’ ring for one day. The next day, that woman was found in a back-alley clinic in Paris, collar around her neck, all four limbs gone.” At this, Michael’s face grew grim. Chloe spoke up, her voice full of false concern. “Michael, honey, everyone’s watching. Before Uncle Julian sees this… we have to do something about her hand.” Michael was silent for a moment. Then, he picked up a steak knife from a nearby table. I backed away, but his friends quickly surrounded me. “Michael, if you touch me, Julian Holland will not let you get away with this.” “Oh, sister, stop being so stubborn,” Chloe cooed. “You don’t know how ruthless Uncle Julian can be. When he deals with you, it won’t just be a hand. Michael is only taking your hand out of respect for your past relationship.” Michael advanced on me, a flicker of pity in his eyes. “I’ll be quick.” They pinned my hand to the table. Despair washed over me. “Let go of me!” I screamed, my face pale with terror. “My husband is Julian Holland!” Everyone looked at me like I was insane. Michael knelt down beside me. “I know you’re only doing this to get my attention, because you love me so much. But you have to stop saying crazy things like this. It’s just a hand. I won’t mind once it’s gone.” As he spoke, he brought the knife down. The ring, along with my finger, was severed. Agony, white-hot and blinding, tore through me. I almost fainted from the pain. Chloe quickly snatched the severed finger and threw it out a nearby window. As she turned back, through my pain-blurred vision, I saw a triumphant, vicious smile on her face. “Dude, that’s enough,” one of his friends whispered nervously. “What are you going to do when you ‘get your memory back’?” “What are you talking about?” Chloe cut in immediately. “Uncle Julian is on his way. Do you want to see him have her limbs cut off and a collar put around her neck?” “She’s right,” another guest added. “You can get a prosthetic hand. It’s better than being dead.” The flicker of doubt on Michael’s face vanished. He looked at my curled, trembling form on the floor and clenched his jaw. “Evelyn, I’m doing this for your own good. I’ll make it up to you later.” I was in too much pain to speak, tears of pure despair streaming from my eyes. The silver knife was about to fall again when the grand doors of the ballroom were thrown open. Julian Holland, surrounded by an entourage of assistants and security, strode into the room.
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