1. After the car crash, Arthur woke up with amnesia, completely forgetting everything we had shared. As the heir to Crown Holdings and a golden boy of Manhattan’s elite, he couldn’t wrap his head around why he had married a simple community college graduate. During his hospital stay, he refused to let me visit him. Once he was fully recovered, he finally came to find me. The very first words out of his mouth were: “Jenny, I think we should get a divorce.” I clenched my fists, letting tears well up in my eyes as I nodded. Six years. I had finally waited out the clock for this exact day. Living day in and day out with a ridiculously gorgeous, ice-cold, stoic man was absolute torture for an ordinary girl like me. The second my best friend heard the news, she texted me a picture of a guy with a rock-solid eight-pack. “Interested?” … In the quiet corner of the coffee shop, Arthur looked at me as if I were a complete stranger. “Please, sit, Jenny.” I sat across from him, cooperating without a word. This was the first time I had seen him since the accident. He looked slightly thinner than I remembered, which only made his sharp jawline look even more imposing. He slid the divorce agreement across the table, a sleek black card resting on top of the papers. “The townhouse and the SUV are yours, plus five million dollars in this account as compensation. You’ve had a tough few years with me.” I squeezed my hands together, tears immediately filling my eyes. Arthur frowned slightly, assuming I was devastated. Fearing I might make a scene, he hesitated for a fraction of a second before speaking again. “I’ll add another three million. Just stop crying.” I froze. Eight million dollars? I had worked like a dog at Crown Group for six years, dragging myself up from an administrative assistant to the deputy director of HR, pinching every penny just to save thirty thousand. This was an absolute jackpot. I signed the papers with tears still shimmering in my eyes. Arthur, convinced I was utterly heartbroken, gently pushed a tissue toward me. “There is a thirty-day cooling-off period. I’ll have my driver pick you up when it’s time to finalize the paperwork.” “I’ll have a team pack up my things from the townhouse.” I nodded tearfully. “Of course, Mr. Crown.” He flinched slightly. “You don’t have to call me that.” “Very well, Arthur.” His lips parted as if to say something else, but he stopped, stood up, and walked away. I sat in my seat, watching his tall, lean figure push open the glass door. The morning sun caught his sharp silhouette, making him look like a model stepped straight out of a high-fashion magazine. He was such a fine specimen of a man. He was just entirely too cold. In our six years of marriage, we could count our intimate moments on both hands. Once, fueled by liquid courage, I had thrown myself at him in a silk slip. He had simply caught me in his steady arms, tucked me back into bed, and whispered, “Sleep it off if you’re drunk.” That frigid restraint was baked into his very bones. To him, I was probably just a fragile vase to be safely stored, not a living, breathing woman. The day his things were completely cleared out of the townhouse, I treated myself to a rose-petal bath and a glass of fine red wine. Leaning against the tub, I snapped a photo showing a bare shoulder and posted it on my socials. The caption: “Single, thriving, and ready for my next chapter.” I raised the glass to my lips, but suddenly my stomach turned. A wave of nausea hit me, and I dry-heaved over the tub. I checked the expiration date on the bottle. It was perfectly fine. My phone buzzed. The caller ID showed Austin, Arthur’s younger brother and a total brother-worshipper. The moment I answered, his panicked voice blasted through the speaker. “Jenny! Are you and my brother actually getting a divorce? Has he lost his mind, or have you?!” Swirling the wine in my glass, I let out a dry laugh. “Austin, you were the one who threw a check in my face years ago, telling me to get lost so your brother could marry his precious college sweetheart. Now you’re asking me if I’ve lost my mind? Are you having a personality split?” He sputtered, his voice suddenly thick with tears. “My brother literally cut ties with the family to marry you! He gave up his inheritance and sent our grandfather to the hospital for two weeks! He’s not going to divorce you. You can’t sign those papers. If he gets his memory back and realizes what he did, it will kill him. Please, Jenny, just hold on. I’ll find a way to get his memory back, I swear.” I gave him a half-hearted reply and hung up. Why would I want to go back to a passionless marriage when I could easily get myself a handsome young partner? Just then, a text popped up from my best friend, Gigi. Are you seriously getting divorced? Yep. Gigi spammed exclamation points before sending another photo. It was a guy standing on a beach, shirtless. Tan skin, defined obliques, water droplets glistening on his chest. And a fiercely attractive face. My eyes practically glued to the screen. That’s Beckett, my husband’s cousin. Just got back from studying abroad. Six-foot-two. And most importantly— She sent a voice note: “He’ll actually keep you satisfied.” I sent a voice note back: “Stop it, you’re making me blush.” “But Arthur and I are still in the cooling-off period. Isn’t transitioning to someone else a bit too fast?” Gigi immediately sent a link to a trending tabloid page. Cooling-off period my foot! Your husband was just spotted at the airport picking up his golden girl! My fingers froze. I clicked the link. There was a photo of Arthur in a tailored black overcoat, waiting at the arrivals terminal. He was reaching out to take a suitcase from Megan, a soft look in his eyes. The headline stung: Crown Holdings CEO Welcomes Back First Love: Six-Year Marriage Exposed as a Sham. A ridiculous thought crossed my mind. Did he actually know Megan was returning, and simply used the car accident and amnesia as an easy excuse to get rid of me? 2. I stared at the photo, a heavy weight settling in my chest. Megan. She was Arthur’s college classmate, and they had been the golden couple on campus. After graduation, she went abroad, and for some reason, they broke up. After that, her name became a forbidden topic. Nobody dared mention her around him. When I first applied for the administrative role at Crown Group with only my associate degree, I thought I stood no chance. To my shock, I was hired. Later, when our relationship went public, the elite social circle labeled me as nothing but a cheap substitute for Megan. I zoomed in on the photo. Megan wore oversized sunglasses, revealing a pale, flawless complexion and a slender, elegant frame. I walked over to the full-length mirror. A round face, still carrying a bit of baby fat. We looked absolutely nothing alike. The tightness in my chest dissolved slightly, replaced by a strange sense of relief. At least I wasn’t some tragic stand-in. Gigi texted again: My wedding is next week. You guys can meet there. Nobody will say a word if it’s at my wedding. I replied: You always have the best ideas. Excited, I threw open my closet to pick an outfit. I tried on a few form-fitting dresses, but they all seemed strangely tight around my waist. I touched my stomach. Why did I look so bloated lately? I hadn’t even been eating that much. Needing a distraction, I went to the mall. I picked out a beautiful powder-blue mermaid gown and headed to the fitting room. When I stepped out to look in the mirror, my heart stopped. Arthur was standing right there, adjusting the zipper on a woman’s dress. And that woman was wearing the exact same powder-blue gown. We all froze. Arthur’s gaze swept over my midsection. He frowned slightly. “That dress shows off your tummy. Try something else.” I instinctively pulled in my stomach. Was it really that obvious? I’d had no appetite lately and barely touched any sweets. The woman turned around, playfully swatting Arthur’s arm. “Arthur, don’t be so insensitive. You’re going to embarrass her.” Then she offered me a polite, flawless smile. “Hi, I’m Megan.” I forced a smile. “Nice to meet you.” Megan turned back to the rack and pulled out a loose, drab gray dress. “This one is much looser and the fabric is very comfortable. It looks perfect for your current… state. Why don’t you try it on?” I didn’t reach for it. It was incredibly dowdy, something my mother wouldn’t even wear. Before I could decline, Arthur pushed the gray dress aside, his frown deepening. “That’s too old-fashioned for her.” He looked at me. “I assume you’re shopping for Gigi’s wedding. Since our divorce isn’t finalized yet, if you show up looking like a mess, it reflects poorly on my family.” Megan’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she pouted beautifully. “Arthur, maybe I shouldn’t go to the wedding with you after all. If she’s going to be there, people will start whispering.” Arthur hesitated. Gigi was my best friend, but her groom was Arthur’s close friend. After a moment, he turned to me. “Are you sure you want to go? Without the status of my wife, people might try to make things difficult for you.” Looking at the way he protected her, I suddenly felt completely drained. I let out a dry chuckle. “I can skip a casual acquaintance’s wedding, but Gigi is my best friend. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” “Don’t worry, Gigi will look out for me. You don’t need to stress.” In my heart, Gigi was infinitely more dependable than he was. When our relationship first went public, the socialites did everything they could to humiliate me, calling me a social climber who couldn’t even tell the vintage of a wine. It was Gigi who held my hand, taught me the luxury brands, showed me how to deal with passive-aggressive remarks, and took me to flower arranging and horseback riding lessons. She molded me from a timid clerk into a confident director. I took a breath. “If you think having Megan there with me around is too awkward, you can always choose not to go.” With that, I turned and walked back into the fitting room. Arthur stood there, looking slightly hurt, as if his genuine concern had been thrown back in my face. 3. To avoid any awkward run-ins at the office, I went to Crown Group the next day to hand in my resignation. Standing in front of the towering skyscraper, I felt a wave of nostalgia. Six years ago, I didn’t think my associate degree would even get me through the front door. Yet, I had climbed the ladder from an assistant, to team lead, to manager, and finally to deputy director. The best six years of my life, both my career and my love, had bloomed here. Now, it was all ending. Ever since the airport rumors broke, the office gossip mill had been running wild. Everyone assumed I was the discarded wife being pushed out by the returning first love. My resignation only confirmed their suspicions. The moment I stepped into the department, a mocking voice echoed from behind. It was Ashley, the colleague who had lost the promotion to me. “Well, if it isn’t our deputy director. Swept out with the trash, are we? Let me know if you need a recommendation for your next job. Given your history with the CEO, I might be able to get you a spot on the janitorial staff.” Several colleagues clutched their coffee cups and chuckled. I turned around, calmly flashing the digital enrollment certificate on my phone. “Actually, I got into Columbia’s executive master’s program last year, and I’m planning to apply for a PhD next year.” “So don’t worry about my career, Ashley. You might want to focus on cleaning up the absolute disaster you made of last month’s annual gala before you’re the one getting fired.” Ashley’s face turned a violent shade of red. I didn’t waste another second on her. I grabbed my things and walked out. Back at my apartment, I collapsed onto the sofa, debating whether to look for a new job or open my own business. Suddenly, the front door was kicked open with a loud bang. Arthur stormed in, radiating cold anger. He marched right up to me, his eyes freezing. “Jenny, how can you be so vicious? Did you really hire someone to run Megan off the road?!” I was stunned. “What are you talking about? Run her off the road? I’ve been at the office all day filling out my exit paperwork!” “Who else has a grudge against her?” He refused to believe me, his grip tightening painfully around my wrist. “You better pray she’s okay, or I will make sure you spend the rest of your life in prison.” Without giving me a chance to explain, he dragged me out, shoved me into the passenger seat, and sped off, demanding I apologize to Megan. I was completely speechless. We flew down the road to the hospital. Outside the VIP suite, Arthur pushed the door open. I saw Austin huddled in the corner, his hair looking like a bird’s nest. The moment he saw us, he jumped up, bowed ninety degrees to me, and then did the same to Arthur. His face was a mask of sheer panic, his voice trembling. “Arthur! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know Megan was in that car! I just wanted to stage a minor fender bender to shock your memory back!” I froze in shock. Arthur went completely still. “What did you say?” his voice cracked. Austin practically stamped his feet in frustration. “Arthur, you cannot divorce Jenny! You almost broke off all ties with the family to marry her! You practically threw away your inheritance! Your wedding was all over the news, you can still find the videos online! If you actually go through with this, you’ll hate yourself forever once your memory returns!” I knew why Austin was always so protective of me. Years ago, he had been in a terrible street racing accident and urgently needed a rare Rh-negative blood transfusion. I had donated nearly a liter of blood to save his life. That was also how I found out my initial hiring at Crown Group had been entirely due to my blood type matching the family’s needs. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Megan, whose head was heavily bandaged, clenching her sheets. Arthur swallowed hard, struggling to find his voice. “I… I’m sorry. I should have investigated before blaming you.” I let out a dry laugh. “Is she going to be okay?” Arthur looked at Megan but didn’t say a word. On the drive back, Austin kept glancing at me from the driver’s seat. “Jenny, there’s something I’ve kept secret for years. The real reason Arthur broke up with Megan back in college was because she cheated on him.” “It was her birthday. Arthur wanted to surprise her, so he flew out without telling her. When he walked into her apartment, he caught her in bed with some guy. He booked the next flight back and never mentioned her name again. Please don’t let her ruin your marriage.” My jaw dropped. After a long pause, I sighed and patted his shoulder. “Thank you for telling me, Austin.” “But my decision to leave your brother has nothing to do with Megan.” “Then why?” Austin stared at me, wide-eyed. My face flushed bright red, and I looked away. I couldn’t exactly tell him that his brother’s stoic, passionless approach to our intimate life had left me feeling like an ornament. 4. Before I knew it, the day of Gigi’s wedding arrived. At the entrance of the venue, Gigi and her groom were welcoming guests. When she saw me, she reached out and poked my belly. “Jenny, are you pregnant? You’re definitely showing a bit.” I blinked. Pregnant? “No way.” “When was your last period?” “I don’t even know. My cycle has always been irregular. It’s normal for me to miss a couple of months.” “Don’t ignore it,” Gigi scolded, tapping my forehead. “Go get a blood test as soon as you can. Don’t be clueless if you actually have a little one on the way.” Suddenly, her eyes lit up, and she waved at someone behind me. “Hey! Beckett! Over here!” I turned around. A tall guy in a crisp white shirt walked over, holding a professional camera. It was the guy from the photo, Beckett. He was incredibly tall. As he stood next to me, his shadow completely enveloped mine. “Beckett just started a creative agency,” Gigi explained with a wink. “He’s looking for a content director who understands photography. Didn’t you love shooting film back in college? You two should talk.” With that, she excused herself to greet other guests. Beckett and I found a quiet table in the corner. He looked younger in person, his white shirt sleeves casually rolled up to his elbows, revealing toned forearms. “You look even more beautiful in person, Jenny,” he said, his voice carrying a warm, smoky depth. “Gigi showed me your social media, and I could tell immediately that your shots have real soul.” He leaned in slightly as he spoke, creating an easy, comfortable intimacy. When the topic shifted to photography, his eyes lit up, his fingers tracing compositions on the tabletop. There was a vibrant, burning energy to him, a stark contrast to Arthur’s cool reserve. We talked about vintage cameras, new lenses, and creative ideas, the conversation flowing effortlessly. I hadn’t laughed like this in a very long time. Right as we were laughing at a joke, a sudden hush fell over the entrance. I looked up. Arthur had arrived, looking devastatingly handsome in a tailored black tuxedo. Megan was clinging tightly to his arm, wearing a shimmering white gown. As they walked in, the pink diamond necklace around Megan’s neck caught the light, and a sharp pain pierced my chest. I knew that necklace all too well. At a charity gala last year, another socialite had worn the exact same necklace as me. The woman had ripped hers off on the spot, throwing it into the trash, calling it a curse to wear the same thing as a community college grad. I had hidden in the restroom, crying for hours. Arthur had held me close that night, promising he would personally design a unique, one-of-a-kind piece just for me. He spent over six months tweaking the sketches. Now, that very necklace was draped around another woman’s neck. A suffocating tightness squeezed my lungs. The music and laughter in the room began to fade into a dull hum. The world turned black. As my knees gave out, the very last thing I heard was Arthur’s voice, cracking with a panic I’d never heard before. “Jenny!”
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