An accident stole three years of my memory. When it finally rushed back, everything I knew was gone. He, who should have been a stranger, had become my husband. And I, who should have been his wife, had been relegated to a live-in maid, catering to ‘them’ for three years. I was a trophy wife, My sole purpose: to be his devoted doormat. But I, was no longer *me*. I stood on the bustling street, watching the endless stream of people pass by. For the first time, I felt utterly lost. Just ten minutes ago, an out-of-control motorcycle, clearly speeding, had swerved directly towards me. The moment it was about to hit, I was yanked away. In that instant, everything came flooding back. I had lost my memory, three years ago, after an accident. Following my parents’ advice, I’d married Ryan, my childhood friend. After the wedding, I obediently quit my high-powered career to focus on serving my mother-in-law, Barbara, becoming a full-time housewife. Thinking of those three years, I looked down at the groceries in my hand and my faded, worn-out clothes. The sheer absurdity of it all made my stomach churn. I had married a stranger, given up a lucrative six-figure job, and become a ‘dutiful wife and mother.’ I was even forced to buy the cheapest, off-brand feminine hygiene products. All because Barbara said we needed to save money for kids. Thankfully, Ryan had a low sperm count. Even though we never used protection these past three years, I hadn’t gotten pregnant. My eyes darkened at the thought. A year into our marriage, I still hadn’t conceived. Barbara constantly called me a barren hen, accusing me of being some cheap tramp who’d had too many abortions to get pregnant. But when I married Ryan, I was a naive girl who’d never even dated. On our wedding night, Barbara even burst into our room to place a white sheet on our bed, a blatant test of my virginity. Only after seeing a stain the next morning did she treat me with any decency. Later, she forced me to get checked at the hospital. The doctor said I was perfectly healthy and fertile, suggesting Ryan get tested. That’s how we discovered Ryan had a low sperm count.
Back home, the moment I stepped through the door, Barbara’s voice screeched. “Look what time it is! Where were you, on some man’s bed after buying groceries?” “Don’t just stand there, go cook! Are you trying to starve us all?” Barbara sat on the couch, glaring at me with disgust. “Mom, don’t get angry. She’s not worth your breath.” Ryan’s ‘sister’, Ashley, was nestled sweetly beside Barbara, playing the dutiful step-daughter. “Still standing there? Go cook, now! Are you waiting to die?” Seeing I hadn’t moved, Barbara made to strike me. I dropped the grocery bags, crossed my arms, and looked at the ‘loving’ mother and daughter with disdain. “Old hag, watch your mouth.” Barbara’s face turned scarlet. She lunged at me. I wasn’t backing down. I fought back, grabbing handfuls of hair, slapping them both with it. Ashley rushed to help, but I just yanked them both around, pulling Barbara’s hair down hard. They clearly hadn’t expected me to fight back. I tossed them both onto the floor like helpless little chicks. I dusted off my hands and walked away. Entering the room Ryan and I shared, I began searching for my ID, property deeds, marriage certificate – anything I might need later. I had to get my hands on them now, before they could use them against me. Thinking of Ryan, based on our three years together, the man was cold, selfish, insidious, and utterly disgusting.
When I came out, the old hag and Ashley were still wailing on the floor, waiting for their precious son to come home so they could tattle. I glanced at them with pure contempt. Disgusting. After leaving, I went to my small apartment. Thank god I’d somehow bought this place quietly before losing my memory and forgotten about it. It had saved me from using it to subsidize their household. Sitting on the floor of the apartment, I still couldn’t quite process the situation. I had been on the verge of a promotion, about to move abroad, finally escaping my toxic family. My bright future had been right there, in front of me. How had it all turned into this? I curled up, burying my face in my knees, and sobbed. My hands, once soft, were now calloused and rough from three years of endless chores. I’d been so stupid that I even scoured obscure websites for expired feminine hygiene products, just to save a few bucks. And I did everyone’s laundry every single day. Waking up at six AM to prepare breakfast and packed lunches for Ryan and Ashley, then mopping and cleaning, waiting until Barbara left the house before I even thought about myself. My phone rang, a grating sound. It was Ryan. I answered. “Where are you? I don’t care who you’re screwing around with, get back here right now, you hear me? *Now!*” Listening to his furious voice, all I felt was a bizarre sense of absurdity. This was my husband? I hung up. There was nothing to say to this stranger. I lay on the apartment couch all night, afraid to sleep. Afraid that I’d wake up the next day, forget everything again, and become their live-in maid once more.
I was going to get a divorce. But not before they paid for every ounce of pain I’d endured. I returned to the house. Ryan hadn’t gone to work; he was home, tending to Barbara and Ashley. The moment she saw me, Barbara started screaming again, telling me to drop dead. Ryan looked like he hadn’t slept all night, dark circles under his eyes. “Where were you yesterday?” he demanded. “None of your damn business.” I calmly sat on the couch, watching them all lose their minds. My gaze met Ryan’s. Looking at this man, whose eyes were as cold and predatory as a snake’s, I found it hard to believe I’d been so madly in love with him when I had lost my memory. Memories flooded my mind. I stood at the bedroom door, watching my new husband, Ryan, and Ashley cuddling intimately on our wedding bed. Ashley looked up at me. “Chloe, Ryan and I have always loved lying on the same bed since we were kids. You don’t mind, do you?” Ryan frowned, feigning calmness. “Ashley gets scared at night. I just let her come over to talk. Don’t be unreasonable.” At first, I actually believed their lies, and treated Ashley like my own sister. Whatever she wanted, whatever she wished to buy, I would fulfill it. “Chloe, book a restaurant for me. Tonight is Ryan and my 15th anniversary. We’re having a candlelight dinner.” “Chloe, write this proposal for me. It’s due tomorrow. If you don’t get it done, you’re dead.” “Chloe, you can’t even do laundry right. What *can* you do?” “Chloe, I’m sleeping with Ryan tonight. You can stay in the study.” … Later, they grew bolder, no longer bothering to hide their sordid affair. They even had sex right under my nose, then expected me to clean up their mess. “Chloe! Is this how you fulfill your duties as a wife? My mom just said one thing to you, and you have to hurt her like this?” Ryan pointed at Barbara, roaring. I looked at him calmly. “Ryan, let’s get a divorce.” Suddenly, the house fell silent. Barbara and Ashley stopped their dramatics. “What did you say?! I don’t agree! If you divorce, who’ll take care of my mom?” “And besides, we paid a bride price when we got married. Your family basically sold you to us!”
That day ended in a furious deadlock. Ryan’s family feared losing me, their ever-willing workhorse, and I never expected them to agree easily. I cleaned the apartment. Three years of neglect had left a thick layer of dust. I picked up an envelope addressed to ‘Chloe.’ I opened it. “Hello, I am Chloe.” “I am the Chloe who lost her memory. Strictly speaking, my codename is 036.” The first sentence left me stunned. A massive shock washed over me. “First, I want to apologize to you. I received a mission to enter this world, inhabiting your body. To complete my task, I did many incomprehensible things over the past three years.” “Ryan was my target. I had to be his doormat, selfless and utterly devoted, my persona only caring about his happiness.” “When I stumbled upon this small apartment, I hesitated, wondering if I should give it to Ryan as a gift to please him. But after I arrived, I saw your hopes, all the love you poured into this apartment, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it.” “By the time you read this letter, I will have left, but my mission is not yet complete.” “My original task was to complete the mission after four years of marriage, but I could only stay in this world for three years.” “So, I must ask you, can you endure this last year? In return, I’ve collected evidence of Ryan’s crimes.” “After one year, this evidence will automatically be submitted. By then, Ryan will face justice. And you will be free.” “At the very least, please, for the sake of me leaving you this apartment, don’t let my mission fail.” “Otherwise, my consciousness will be erased. Please.” Reading the letter carefully, a huge weight lifted from my heart. “So, I didn’t betray myself after all.” I squatted down, hugging my knees, and wept. Tears streamed down my face and into my mouth, but I didn’t notice. It was so long that the streetlights had already turned off. I lifted my head, fiercely wiping away the tears from my eyes. “One last year, huh? If I complete your mission, I can go back to a normal life.” It sounded like a kind offer.
“Failure to complete the mission means being erased?” I murmured, staring at the envelope. And she wants me to be grateful she left me *my own* apartment? “If you hadn’t suddenly taken over my body, how would I have ended up in this mess?!” This ‘strategist’ 036 only left me the apartment because she realized she still needed my help to complete the final step, a way to manipulate me. “Since you want to complete your mission so badly, why would I grant your wish?” Looking at the new scars on my body from these past few years, my hatred seethed. I would make Ryan’s family pay the price they deserved. And 036, your mission will never be completed. Ashley’s birthday was in two days. Every year, she threw a lavish party to show off how much she was ‘loved.’ I sneered. A story about being ‘loved’ by your brother, even in bed, would certainly grab attention. That day, Ryan called me. “I don’t care what you’re thinking right now, but it’s Ashley’s birthday, and you *must* be there.” His commanding voice came through the phone. Ryan was a highly sophisticated egoist. He wouldn’t tolerate any stains on his reputation. Highly educated, good-looking, polite and generous in public, doting on his wife, never adding female contacts on SnapChat. That was his public persona. “I’ll be there.” I’m going there to expose the true faces of you two despicable scumbags. When I arrived, the party had already started.
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