My Ex-Wife’s Obsession Celeste Hayes, the poor, stunning girl I once shamed, finally made me pay. And the price was excruciating. She drove my parents to their deaths, then broke my limbs and threw me into a doghouse to sleep. Everyone said it was her well-deserved revenge. But on the night I jumped into the ocean, a terrified Celeste, who couldn’t even swim, bravely plunged in after me. To save my life, she lost a hand to a shark. Celeste even spent billions, assembling a team of hypnotists, just to make me forget our past and marry her. As she wished, my entire world had shrunk to a single purpose: loving her. But on our tenth anniversary, I saw her slip into my male caregiver Jaxon Miller’s room late at night. His intimate murmurs gradually merged with the voice of the man I remembered Celeste truly loving. Jaxon asked her why she still hadn’t divorced me. Celeste’s reply, laced with a sigh of pained affection: “I did all this just to make Liam Thorne suffer more when he finally comes to his senses. You know, you’re the true light in my life.” I slipped the memory-loss pill I’d been hiding into my mouth. Celeste didn’t know. I’d never forgotten a thing from before. But from this moment on, I would forget everything. Including her.
I waited five hours before Celeste finally returned to our room. The dampness clinging to her, mingled with the scent of Jaxon Miller’s shower gel, felt both clammy and unsettling. When she saw me still awake, she nearly jumped out of her skin. A cold dread spread through me, but I forced a smile onto my face. “Why such a strong reaction? Did you do something to betray me?” Her face flickered through a range of emotions, her eyes darting away, unable to meet mine. “Clients were demanding. Drank too much. Just rinsed off in the lounge.” Her excuse was laughably flimsy. Her moniker as the “Ice Queen” of the corporate world was well-earned; no one in their right mind would dare force her to drink until past midnight. I couldn’t be bothered to expose her lie. Instead, I slowly rolled up the sleeve of my silk pajamas. A vast, hideous burn marked my arm, stark and alarming. “Jaxon Miller did this.” My voice was flat. “Make him leave.” Celeste’s gaze dropped to the wound. Her brow furrowed for a moment, but then quickly relaxed. “It’s just a small cut. I’ll have the doctor bandage it tomorrow.” “He’s just out of college, a bit clumsy. Go easy on him.” She spoke as she unbuttoned her shirt. “I’ll make him apologize to you later, and he’ll cover the medical expenses.” I smiled. Years ago, when her own mother merely called me a bastard, Celeste had immediately sent her back to her rural old house. She hadn’t even allowed her to pack her luggage properly. In all our years of marriage, let alone a burn, if I so much as shed a few more hairs than usual on the floor, she would fire the entire care team. Those were her exact words: “Liam, your world is just me now, and I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you.” But now, this angry, festering wound on my wrist was, in her words, “just a small cut.” I pretended to be understanding, pulling my sleeve back down to cover the ugly mark. “Got it. I won’t pick a fight with the kid.” A “kid” the same age as me. I pressed my temples, letting out a soft sigh. “Headache.” This was the real amnesia medicine at work. I’d faked it for years, but this pain was brutally real. “Still hurting?” Her tone was thick with exhaustion. “It’s been years, it should be fine by now. Liam, stop using that old headache as an excuse; you’re driving everyone crazy. And stop driving *me* crazy too. I have a transatlantic meeting first thing tomorrow, I’m exhausted.” The room fell into a deathly silence. The piercing pain spread from my brain to my heart. I softly mumbled, “Okay.” My fingertip brushed the cold metal of my ring finger. Without even pulling hard, the wedding band, worn for so many years, slipped off. It felt like countless needles were simultaneously piercing my brain, the pain so intense my vision blurred. I bit my lip, forcing back the tears. In my mind, the image of Celeste, eyes red-rimmed, slipping that ring onto my finger, shattered and peeled away, finally becoming indistinguishable. At breakfast, Celeste couldn’t find me. She frantically tore through the villa. She even pulled every string she had, mobilizing a specialized search and rescue team. Finally, they found me in the basement. But beside me, coiled, was a highly venomous snake. Its head suddenly darted forward. “Don’t move!” Celeste, without a second thought, lunged forward, shielding me tightly with her body. The fangs sank into her neck, and her face instantly turned black and blue. She was rushed into the ER. It took a full day and night, and a complete blood transfusion, before she finally crawled back from the brink of death. Dr. Reed’s face was thunderous as he pointed at Celeste’s assistant, scolding him. “Why were you ten minutes late?! She was this close to dying!”
Everyone’s gaze pierced me like knives. Because on the way to the hospital, *I* was the one who insisted on going back for my teddy bear, causing the delay. Celeste’s assistant, who had been with her for ten years, couldn’t hold back. He lashed out at me directly: “A stupid teddy bear? Is that more important than Celeste’s life? Do you have any idea what she’s sacrificed for you all these years? And you? You don’t give a damn if she lives or dies!” Celeste’s face instantly darkened. “You’re fired. Go to payroll to collect your last check.” The hospital room fell silent. Celeste then turned to me, forcing a reassuring smile onto her pale face. “Don’t listen to him. If you like it, Liam, not just a simple teddy bear, but even my life—I wouldn’t hesitate for a second.” I hugged the faded teddy bear in my arms and gave a foolish smile. It was strange. Celeste wasn’t taking amnesia pills, so why was her memory so bad? This wasn’t just any ordinary bear. This was the one Celeste had given me in high school. It cost three thousand dollars. Celeste had to scrub toilets for five months just to scrape together that much. To me, that kind of money wouldn’t even cover the cost of decent wrapping paper for a gift. So, in front of all our classmates, I threw the bear into the trash. Then I pulled out a wad of cash—easily ten thousand dollars—and threw it in her face. “Go get some taste. Don’t ever insult me with this kind of trash again.” Thinking of this, my gaze fell on her remaining hand. These past few years of luxury had left it soft and smooth. Nothing like that year, when it was raw and peeling from harsh detergents, covered in swollen, painful chilblains. Celeste’s hand shouldn’t have been like that. Even the current me felt that way. The hospital room door burst open with a bang. Jaxon Miller practically threw himself onto Celeste’s bed, sobbing hysterically. He bumped into me, sending me sprawling to the floor. The wound he’d inflicted with scalding water just days ago ripped open, blood soaking through my sleeve. Celeste’s eyes were filled with such tender concern, but it was all for Jaxon Miller. It wasn’t until a nurse came in for rounds that she suddenly remembered I was still there. She offered me a somewhat awkward explanation: “Jaxon’s just… very emotional. Don’t read too much into it.” Then Celeste suddenly remembered my headaches. She asked the doctor to take me for a check-up. But from start to finish, she never once looked at me. And she certainly didn’t see the spreading crimson on my sleeve. The doctor went back to get something, leaving me alone in the hallway. Suddenly, a violent shove from behind sent me sprawling. Jaxon Miller grabbed me, pulling me to the floor. He snatched the teddy bear from my arms, shoving it hard against my face, his voice sharp, laced with venom: “You piece of trash! I’ll make you taste Celeste’s pain!” The suffocation made me struggle desperately, and I instinctively called Celeste’s name. The plush fabric smothered my nose and mouth, and panic, swiftly followed by suffocation, overwhelmed me. I struggled with all my might, instinctively crying out Celeste’s name. My fingernails scraped long, bloody trails on the floor. The room was only a few steps away, but no one came to help me. Just as darkness began to consume me, Celeste’s voice, eerily calm, finally drifted into my awareness. I thought I was saved. But she merely watched the scene unfold, then instructed Dr. Reed, who had followed her out: “Dr. Reed, please, do what you always do. Erase this memory for Liam.” Jaxon’s shrill voice detonated in my mind. “If Celeste hadn’t been wiping your memories clean every time, you would’ve learned your lesson years ago!” So, Celeste allowing Jaxon to hurt me wasn’t the first time. A torrent of fragmented images slammed into me, like countless knives piercing my skull, a pain so sharp it felt like my head would explode.
On our very first day of marriage, Jaxon Miller moved directly into our marital home. Time and again, he used the excuse of “getting revenge for Celeste,” splashing scalding coffee on me, pushing me down the stairs. He even, in front of me, pinned Celeste to the sofa. Celeste struggled, pushing him away. Until that late night, when she finally gave in. She held a cigarette, her bloodshot eyes locking with mine, her voice a raw rasp. “Liam, there’s too much baggage between us.” She was right. The humiliation of my youth, the death of my parents, the hand she lost for me. These were burdens of hatred too immense for us to overcome. I was dragged to the treatment chair, my head covered in electrodes. Celeste walked over, her face a mask of complicated emotions. Seeing the fresh tears on my face, she leaned down and kissed me. “Liam, just sleep. Everything will be a fresh start when you wake.” As she reached for the switch, Dr. Reed’s hesitant voice broke the silence. “Ms. Hayes, the memory wipes have been too frequent lately. It will harm Mr. Thorne’s brain.” Celeste paused, then sighed helplessly. “But I can’t let him hate me.” A harsh sizzle. The current savagely pierced my brain, tearing apart every unbearable, agonizing memory until nothing remained but dust. My fingers went limp, and the teddy bear I’d been clutching rolled into the trash can beside the bed. Just like all those years ago. Only this time, no one would pick it up. I slept for a long time. When I opened my eyes, I saw a handsome, slightly unfamiliar face. I frowned, abruptly pulling back the hand she still tightly clasped. “Who are you?” Her body instantly stiffened, immense panic flooding her eyes. “Liam, it’s Celeste, your wife.” She desperately grabbed my hand, her grip so strong it felt like she wanted to crush my bones. “We’ve been married for three years, you love me very much, remember? You said I was your life.” Seeing my blank expression, Celeste kept repeating how much I loved her. I rubbed my throbbing temples. I seemed to remember the things she was saying. But that love, it felt like it had been surgically excised. I habitually spoke to comfort her. “Sorry, my head just hurts so much.” Celeste’s expression froze for a moment, unnaturally rigid. She awkwardly averted her gaze, looking flustered, and her eyes landed on the teddy bear in the trash can. Her brows furrowed, and she immediately called for staff. “What is this trash? Get it out of here now!” I looked at the dried, dark crimson stains on the bear, and instinctively touched the wound on my own lip. Celeste’s body instantly tensed. “Did you have a nightmare?” she blurted out, then frantically added, “Dreams aren’t real, don’t believe anything you see in them!” Her attempts to cover it up were clumsy, almost comical. But I didn’t even have the energy to investigate. I just watched as the bear was taken away, and calmly said, “A rotten bear. It should have been thrown out long ago.” Just like our love. Celeste seemed to sense something. Despite being ordered by the doctors to rest, she clung to my side almost twenty-four hours a day. Oh, no, not at night. In the dead of night, when she got up to find Jaxon Miller, I would always wake up. Sometimes, they even returned to our bedroom. Right beside the bed I was lying in. “Celeste, when are you going to let Liam Thorne get his memory back?” Jaxon Miller’s voice was tearful, cutting through the lust-filled silence with chilling clarity. “You sacrificed ten years of marriage for revenge, and I’ve waited ten years for you. It’s enough, truly, it’s enough.”
Celeste always said “soon.” She was so absorbed in her own world, she didn’t see the poisoned hatred in Jaxon Miller’s eyes when he looked at me. Jaxon began to secretly take my medication. He didn’t know that Celeste, afraid I’d discover their dirty little secret, was adding even more pills to my food every day. Large blanks began to appear in my memory. I would often sit by the window for an entire day, doing nothing. Celeste was quite pleased by this. She just thought I wasn’t clinging to her anymore, and even inexplicably seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. It was laughable. She’d gone to such lengths to turn me into a useless shell whose world revolved only around her, and now she found it tiresome. I said nothing, merely existing, slowly, steadily, falling out of love with her. Until that evening at dinner, the mansion door burst open. Jaxon Miller stumbled in, disheveled and frantic, collapsing to his knees directly in front of me. “My mom has a heart condition! Come for me, but leave my family out of this!” He cried hysterically, as if I had committed some heinous crime. Outside the villa, flashbulbs erupted, reporters had swarmed the mansion, practically blocking out the light. “Ms. Hayes, what’s your comment on your wife publicly exposing your affair with Mr. Miller online?” “Ms. Hayes, was ten years of deep affection just a facade?” For ten years, Celeste’s deep love for me had been a fairy tale, whispered about by everyone in our circle. Now, with the fairy tale shattered and a third party exposed, all fingers naturally pointed at Jaxon Miller. Reporters’ microphones practically poked Jaxon Miller’s face, their questions harsh, their tone accusatory. Celeste’s face instantly darkened. She stared at me, her eyes a maelstrom of barely contained fury. But in the end, she still didn’t touch me. She simply pulled Jaxon Miller aside, saying she would handle it. Turning away, she called her assistant, instructing them to prepare for Jaxon Miller’s entire family to move abroad. Jaxon Miller’s eyes hardened. He tapped his phone a few times. Less than a minute later, Celeste’s phone rang. Jaxon Miller’s parents, reeling from the shock, had been in a car accident and died. Jaxon Miller crawled over, desperately tugging at my pant leg. “I’m sorry, I’m truly sorry…” He sobbed, his words a jumbled mess, yet with chilling clarity, he twisted all the blame onto me. “You warned me in high school not to try and take what was yours… I was expelled then, why didn’t I learn my lesson… Now I’ve caused my parents’ deaths, I’ve ruined our whole family…” Celeste’s eyes flashed crimson. She clamped onto my wrist, her grip so tight I thought my bones would shatter. “Why are you so cruel?!” Jaxon Miller wailed, kowtowing to me: “Please, I beg you, spare my family! I don’t want anything anymore…” Celeste let go of me, reaching to help him up. But Jaxon Miller swayed, then deliberately collapsed, tumbling right into me. A sickening pool of vibrant crimson bloomed beneath him. I looked down, seeing the stark red spread under him. Clutching his stomach, he cried out pitifully: “I told you I wasn’t going to fight you anymore! Why are you still trying to ruin me?! You secretly stopped your meds, faked your amnesia, all just to wait for this moment to get your revenge, didn’t you?!” That last sentence detonated in Celeste’s mind like a thunderclap. Her face was a mask of dark fury as she sharply ordered a servant: “Search his room!” Soon, a servant returned from under my bed with a dusty box. Inside, it was packed full of the unused pills I’d saved over the years. SLAP! Celeste’s hand connected with my face, sending me sprawling to the floor. Every word was squeezed out, venomous and precise. “So all these years, you’ve been lying to me!” “You never loved me!” I was locked away, forced to press my handprint onto divorce papers. Through the servant who brought my meals, I learned that Celeste was going to marry Jaxon Miller. In the public statement, I was portrayed as the homewrecker. Our marriage, merely a form of revenge against her. Now, everything was back on track. I was the one being sent abroad. Even with ten times the normal dose of medication pumping through my veins, Celeste still wasn’t reassured. She believed I would never love her. The excessive medication often left my mind in a haze. I couldn’t even distinguish the passage of time. On the night before my flight, Celeste came to my room. She traced my face. “If only you could have loved me.” I looked at her and smiled, a vacant, foolish grin. As soon as dawn broke, I was escorted onto a private jet. I was bundled up, my face mostly hidden, and no one recognized me. Everyone around was buzzing about Celeste and Jaxon Miller’s wedding of the century. They chattered on, full of excitement. Only I wondered, who was Celeste? But once the plane took off, I cast the question from my mind. Strangers’ affairs weren’t worth the effort.
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