Charlotte had crashed her car. As she lay on the operating table, all she could think about was the photo she’d seen right before the accident. The one of Arthur holding another woman, looking at her like she meant everything to him. She couldn’t get it out of her head – how gently he held her, the way his eyes lit up. She’d been so shocked looking at it, she didn’t even see the other car coming. She might be his wife, but that woman was clearly the one he truly loved. Five years of marriage, and he’d never once looked at Charlotte that way. Just thinking about it made her chest ache. Now his first love was back in the picture, and Charlotte had to wonder if she even mattered to him anymore. A thought suddenly crossed her mind. She needed to know if he still had feelings for her at all. When she opened her eyes, she was met with a stark white ceiling, and confusion washed over her. “You’re awake,” a deep, cold voice said from beside her. Charlotte turned to see a face set like stone. His features were sharp and chiseled, his expression impossible to read. Though his eyes seemed capable of warmth, they held none of it now as they stared at her. Charlotte blinked, confused. “Who are you?” She looked around, lost. “Where am I?” Arthur frowned. Those steel-gray eyes of his seemed to pierce right through her. Unable to bear the weight of his stare, Charlotte retreated behind a facade of timidity. “W-why are you looking at me like that?” Her voice quivered, not entirely an act. Even now, after everything, his presence could unsettle her so easily. Arthur looked away almost instantly, his voice as cold as ever. “Nothing. And… I’m just a friend of yours.” The words hit her like physical blows. Each syllable carved new wounds into her heart, deeper than any knife could reach. Five years – five years of marriage, of carefully molding herself into what she thought he wanted. All of it reduced to “friend” in a single breath. All those years of love and devotion had meant nothing. Just then, the door opened, and a young boy who looked just like Arthur walked in. It was Julius Harrison, their son. He walked straight to Arthur without even looking at her. “Dad, let’s go. Sarah’s waiting for us to watch her show.” Charlotte gripped the bedsheet tightly, his words hitting her hard. She gave a bitter laugh. This was her own flesh and blood, the baby she’d carried for nine months. Yet here he was, refusing to even look at her while she lay injured in bed. Like father, like son – both of them completely wrapped up in Sarah Miller. People always said boys never really get their mothers. Now she felt the sting of what her own kid had become. Arthur had always been cold, and here was Julius, turning out just like him. At home, he barely acknowledged her, and in public, he acted like she was just some housewife who didn’t matter. Charlotte felt something inside her go cold. If they thought she was worthless, fine. She’d leave them to it. Thinking this, Charlotte made a silent decision in her heart.
Five years of trying to make this marriage work, all that love and effort she’d put in… what a waste. Later, Arthur’s assistant came to handle her discharge paperwork. Keeping up her act of memory loss, Charlotte looked at the assistant. “Who are you?” Grace Johnson hesitated briefly. “I’m Mr. Harrison’s assistant. I’m here to take you home.” “Mr. Harrison?” “The man who was just here. Your husband.” Charlotte let out a silent, bitter laugh while keeping her expression neutral and puzzled. “So why would he tell me we’re just friends?” “I honestly don’t know,” Grace sighed. She couldn’t understand her boss’s thinking. His wife had lost her memory in a car crash, and he chose to call her just a friend. “Was this an arranged marriage?” Charlotte mused, keeping up her act. “Is that why he’s saying we’re just friends?” Grace stayed quiet, leaving Charlotte’s question unanswered. The car rolled to a stop outside Rose Villa. Charlotte’s chest tightened at the sight of the familiar house. Unbidden, the image from that photo flooded her mind – Arthur holding Sarah, their bodies close, his eyes soft with a tenderness she’d never seen directed at her. The pain hit her like a physical blow. These feelings for him, she realized, weren’t going to fade easily. This was the house they had shared, the place where they’d built their life together. Five years ago, he had been drugged, and she’d woken up in his bed. Their families quickly arranged the marriage, and everything had been set in motion. On their wedding night, he’d been blunt: “I don’t have feelings for you, but I won’t betray you. Let’s just be a marriage of convenience.” A marriage of convenience meant no love, just business. She’d agreed. But gradually, Arthur started controlling every part of her life, telling her what to wear and how to look. For a while, Charlotte fooled herself into thinking he was starting to care. She felt hopeful and tried harder to be the perfect wife he seemed to want. Six months after they married, she got pregnant with Julius, and she started dreaming of a happy family. But Arthur never changed. He stayed cold, only showing passion in bed. And she always fell for it. Five years later, when she found Sarah’s photo, reality hit her like a splash of cold water. Everything about her – her clothes, her hair, her makeup – was copying Sarah! Now it all made sense. He’d been so involved because he was trying to turn her into Sarah. She was just a replacement. After five years together, she finally saw the truth. Her life had been nothing but a cruel joke. The tears came without warning. “Are you okay?” Grace asked, concerned.
Charlotte touched her wet cheeks, confused. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” Grace just watched her with sympathy. Pulling herself together, Charlotte walked into the house. A housekeeper immediately approached her. “Ma’am, Mr. Harrison and young Mr. Julius will be home in two hours. Would you like to start dinner preparations?” For five years, Charlotte had handled everything for Arthur – cooking his meals, choosing his clothes, even picking out his accessories. She’d done it all hoping he would fall in love with her someday. But now she knew that her feelings would never be returned. Charlotte looked genuinely puzzled. “Why would I need to cook dinner?” The housekeeper stared at her, startled. “Ma’am, are you feeling okay?” At that moment, Grace explained Charlotte’s condition to the servant. The servant’s eyes softened with sympathy. “Ma’am, you should rest. We’ll take care of dinner.” “I’m not feeling great. Which way is the bedroom?” Charlotte asked, rubbing her temples. The maid showed her upstairs, and Charlotte just crashed onto the bed. Her head was swimming as she tried to figure out her next move. Divorce. That had to be first. She must have dozed off, but it wasn’t a good sleep. Her dreams were filled with the last five years – all the manipulation, the cold shoulders, and the moments when Arthur’s eyes would burn with passion during their intimacy, only to whisper those damning words. “Sarah, I love you.” Charlotte jolted awake, breathing hard, her chest still tight with pain. She spun around when she felt those cold eyes on her. Arthur filled the doorway with his tall frame. He walked in, casually undoing his shirt buttons, moving with that natural grace he always had – the kind that screamed old money. His sharp features and thick brows made him look like something out of a magazine. When he looked her way, his eyes were cold and distant, like he couldn’t care less. His tight-lipped expression didn’t help either. Charlotte pushed herself up slowly, keeping up her confused act. “They told me you’re my husband? Why did you tell me we’re just friends?” Arthur paused in the middle of undoing his buttons, his eyes flicking over to her. “Because there’s nothing between us,” he replied flatly. She pressed further, unwilling to let it go. “Then why did we even get married?” His gaze remained distant, his voice detached. “It was an accident.” Charlotte’s hand, hidden under the blanket, clenched the sheets tightly. “And the child… is he really ours?” Arthur’s patience was wearing thin. “It was another accident. Don’t overthink it.” Her heart felt like it was being squeezed. She looked down, fighting back tears. “So this whole time… we’ve been living together without any feelings. If that’s how it is…” “Let’s get a divorced!”
She looked up at him, expecting agreement, waiting for him to say they should end this. After all, his true love was back, and Charlotte was ready to step aside. An image of Julius – so much like his father – flashed through her mind, making her heart clench. But she kept her face neutral, waiting for the ‘yes’ she was sure would come. Instead, his voice cut through the air, cold and sharp: “Our marriage may have been arranged, but it’s been peaceful for five years. There’s no need for divorce.” No? She wanted to laugh. How do you plan to marry Sarah without divorcing me first? The words burned in her throat, but she swallowed them down. “But I don’t like you,” she said, her voice shaking. “I don’t even know you. We can’t live like this. Neither of us will be happy.” Arthur’s face darkened as his jaw clenched. In one fluid motion, he crossed the room and pinned her to the bed, looming over her with his face just inches from hers. Charlotte’s heart pounded as she quickly covered her mouth with her hand, staring up at him in shock. “What do you think you’re doing?” she mumbled behind her palm. “Proving that our marriage is fine,” he said coldly, his eyes hard. Charlotte felt sick to her stomach. This was wrong on so many levels. First, he claims they’re just friends with no feelings involved, and now he’s trying to kiss her? Was that all she was to him – something to use when convenient? The irony made her heart twist painfully. Fighting back the hurt in her chest, Charlotte met his gaze. “Stop,” she said firmly. “I only do this with someone I have feelings for. And I don’t have any for you. You can’t force this.” There she goes again, claiming she has no feelings for him. It drove him crazy. Something inside Arthur finally snapped. His face turned stone cold as he pulled back, barely containing his anger. Charlotte flinched away from him, fear flickering across her face. Without a word, he stormed out of the room. The door slammed behind him, and Charlotte let out a shaky breath of relief. For a moment there, she’d thought he might actually force himself on her. She sat up slowly, her mind racing with confusion. If he loved Sarah so much, why wouldn’t he just divorce her? It made no sense. Before she could think it through, someone knocked on the door. “Come in.” She quickly put on her confused face as she turned to the door. “Madam, would you like something to eat?” the maid asked. Charlotte nodded sheepishly. “Actually, yes.” “Dinner’s ready downstairs if you’d like to join.” “Thanks, I’ll come down.” She felt a bit smug about how well she was playing this. She just had to keep it up until she got those divorce papers signed. Walking into the dining room, she spotted a small figure sitting perfectly still at the table, hands folded in his lap, face blank. He barely turned his head when he heard her, saying “Mom” in that same cold way his father had. Charlotte felt her chest tighten. Julius had been shipped off to Arthur’s parents at three, where they’d raised him like a tiny soldier, robbing him of any real childhood. In the beginning, he’d still run to her for hugs when he visited. But that didn’t last. Soon he’d flinch when she tried to hold him, like he couldn’t stand her touch. He started shutting her out completely. She remembered how he gave her the silent treatment for a whole week just because she’d tried to tidy up his books. These days, he was turning into a mini-version of Arthur – just as cold, just as distant. Fighting back tears, Charlotte looked at him and asked, “Are you really my kid?” Julius, aware of her supposed memory loss, kept his face blank. “Yes.” Charlotte nodded, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. “Then why didn’t you even look at me in the hospital? It’s like I’m not even your mother.” Julius, still too young to mask his emotions as well as his father, hesitated. His forehead creased before he answered, “I am your son. That’s just fact. Don’t say things like that.” He seemed annoyed with her attitude and, surprisingly, started to lecture her. “Don’t talk like that. People will think you’ve gone crazy from being stuck at home too long.” Charlotte’s fingers clenched, fighting back her rising anger. The contempt in his eyes was unmistakable. She used to let them both walk all over her, but not anymore. She’d decided to leave, and she wouldn’t tolerate their disrespect any longer. She took a deep breath and stood,fixing him with a hard stare.
“You little brat, where are your manners? Is this how you speak to your mother?” Julius froze. “You…” Charlotte calmly picked up her fork and started eating. “Just stop talking. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t want a son like you.” Julius stared at her, stunned. This woman who had always bent over backwards to please him and his father was suddenly different. She had never acted like this before! Back then, she’d run to him with hugs and kisses, always eager to hear about his life at Harrison Villa. Now her words cut like a knife. Julius had never really enjoyed her attention. Her constant hovering and meddling irritated him. He even thought her excessive concern for him was disrespectful to his grandparents. As Julius pulled away, Charlotte’s love never wavered – her eyes always full of warmth when she looked at him. But now she’d just said she didn’t want him as a son. Julius stood there speechless, his face hardening by the second. Given the choice, he’d pick Sarah over her any day. Sarah – the graceful, elegant ballerina who dazzled audiences – would make a much better mother figure. Julius pushed away from the table and stormed upstairs, leaving his dinner untouched. Before her accident, Charlotte would have chased after him, trying to make things right. His feelings had always come first. But this time, she just watched him go, clutching her fork tightly. Her heart hurt, but she pushed it down, feeling a bitter smile tug at her lips. This was the child she’d loved so deeply and raised with all her heart. Now here he was, scolding her, looking at her with the same cold disgust as his father. She forced herself to keep eating, swallowing past the lump in her throat. Upstairs, Julius waited for her usual apology, but for the first time, Charlotte never came. ***** After a long bath, Charlotte felt lighter. Letting go of her desperate need for Arthur’s love was surprisingly freeing. She couldn’t believe she’d wasted so much time chasing after him. She’d really thought if she could just be perfect enough, he’d fall for her. How stupid. Now she knew – love had to start with herself. Coming out of the bathroom, she dug out her old phone from the back of her closet. Five years of dust had collected on it. While it charged, she looked through her clothes. The closet was filled with soft, understated dresses – all picked to match Sarah’s style. Five years of playing dress-up as someone else. She’d been nothing but a stand-in, Sarah’s shadow. Her lip curled in disgust. Without a second thought, she dumped every dress in the trash. She was done being someone’s replacement. Her phone buzzed. An unknown number had sent a photo. The picture showed Arthur in a dim private room, lounging on a sofa. His usual cold expression was there, shirt collar undone, a woman’s hand on his chest. He held her wrist, the dark lighting making everything look intimate. Even in the poor light, she could see that tiny smirk on his face. Her fingers gripped the phone so tight her knuckles turned white. Even though she’d promised herself she was done with him, it still hurt. How had she fallen for someone so heartless? Her hands shook as she saved the photo, each moment reopening old wounds. The next evening, Arthur walked into the house to find Charlotte on the sofa. She looked completely different – she’d put on natural makeup, her curls now straight and pulled back in a simple ponytail. She looked fresh, vibrant, transformed. The desperate housewife was gone. In her place sat someone new, as if she’d finally broken free. “Perfect timing,” Charlotte said coolly, holding up her phone to show him last night’s photo. Arthur walked over slowly, his face a mask. He barely glanced at the screen before his eyes narrowed,questioning her like she was a spy, “you hired someone to spy on me?”
Charlotte was so frustrated she almost laughed. Clearly, he forgot she had amnesia! With an innocent blink, she said, “We’re not even close, so why would I sneak pics of you?” Arthur’s face got colder. He sank into the chair, giving her a weird look—like he knew her, but didn’t. When they first met, she was lively, her eyes bright like stars, showing every emotion. But after marriage, she turned into his perfect little robot wife—no makeup if he said so, dressed how he wanted, no personality, just obedience. Charlotte felt his eyes on her. She tried to stay calm, but her voice shook a bit. “You hooked up with someone else last night, right? You cheated. Got a mistress. Let’s just end this. Perfect timing. I’m over it, and you’ve got someone else. Clean break. Simple as that.” The spark in Arthur’s eyes died, replaced by cold indifference. “I didn’t cheat,” he said calmly, tugging at his tie, “You’ve got it wrong.” Charlotte rolled her eyes at his reply. Seemed he’d only admit it if she caught him in the act. His lack of honesty was frustrating. If he liked Sarah, why not just say so? It wasn’t like he had feelings for her anymore. She frowned, meeting his gaze. “Staying married doesn’t make sense. Maybe I liked you once, but not now. Are you worried about splitting the assets? Fine, I won’t ask for much—just a divorce paper.” Simple enough, right? Now, it was his turn to agree. The marriage between their families was complicated, but Charlotte just wanted a clean break. A peaceful divorce wouldn’t hurt their business ties, so why would he refuse? But Arthur’s eyes turned icy, and the room suddenly felt colder. Charlotte blinked, totally lost. What had she said to make him so angry? Arthur rubbed his temples as a headache crept in. After a sleepless night and barely eating all day, he felt awful. And instead of her usual warmth, all he got was her saying that she didn’t like him. Now, his headache was getting worse. “We’ll discuss divorce when you remember everything,” he said, voice arctic. “I’m starving. Make me dinner.” Charlotte froze, realizing her fake amnesia was pointless. The thought made her sick – he spends the night with another woman, then waltzes in demanding dinner? The nerve. “Do it yourself.” She answered. Arthur doubted his ears as he stared at her, face blank.
Then something hit him like a truck. Right. Amnesia. She couldn’t cook before they got married. His frustration spiked. Ever since she lost her memory, his perfectly controlled world had gone to hell. Like right now, Charlotte was still pushing for a divorce. Seeing Arthur’s cold look, she didn’t flinch. “Just think about it,” she continued coolly. “We’d both be better off.” “What about Julius?” Arthur shot back. “What happens to him if we split?” Charlotte paused before replying. “Like he’d care. He doesn’t see me as his mom, right?” Thank God for amnesia – it made her bold enough to say what she’d always swallowed down. The knot in her chest loosened a bit. Finally. Arthur’s eyes drilled into her, like he was trying to read her mind. She stared right back. “If he cared, he’d have shown me concern at the hospital. Let’s face it – we never got along.” She took a deep breath. “Why drag out this toxic mess? He’s a kid. He’ll be fine.” Charlotte silently prayed Arthur would just say yes. But no. His face went full ice age, dropping the room temp. She wasn’t acting. Her face was blank, her voice empty when talking about Julius. No emotion. This wasn’t the Charlotte he remembered. Before, she’d loved Julius deeply, even when he treated her with indifference. She had always been gentle, always affectionate. Whenever he came home, her eyes used to light up with love for him. But now, she was calmly talking about divorce, like it was someone else’s life. A mix of frustration and confusion stirred in Arthur. But what could he do? She had amnesia, after all. “How much have you forgotten?” Arthur asked, his voice low and sharp. Charlotte’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t expected that. But she quickly answered, “I don’t remember anything about you or your family. I just know I’m Charlotte Hardwick, from the Hardwick family.” She looked genuinely puzzled. “I can’t even remember why we got married.” Her confusion seemed so real that it almost made him doubt. Arthur’s jaw tightened. Seemed she had forgotten everything from the last five years. No wonder she felt like a stranger. “This can wait until Julius gets back,” he said flatly, turning away and heading for the stairs. Charlotte felt a bit relieved. Finally, he seemed to be softening. But she still had to wait another week, playing this part like a never-ending cycle of torture. That night, as she went to her room, she reached for the light switch. Just as her fingers touched it, she was slammed against the door. Then lips crashed into hers. She gasped, trying to push him away. Arthur was kissing her with no warning. The bedroom lights flickered on, blinding her for a second. Charlotte shoved him off, breathless and furiously wiping her lips. “What the hell are you doing?!” His eyes turned dark—like, seriously dark. That look of disgust on her face just made him angrier. All the anger she thought had cooled? No, it came rushing back.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397717”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #Marriage #BillionaireRomance #MillionaireMillionairess #sad #BillionaireBillionairess #Divorce #PainfulLove #Betrayal #regret #Heartbroken
Leave a Reply