I crashed my car, breaking my leg and getting a concussion. When I woke up, Julian Blackwood, my boyfriend’s enemy, was standing by my bedside, yelling at me: “Throwing your life away for a man? Your mom might not judge you for that, but I sure as hell do.” His words annoyed me. I glared at Julian, irritated. “Who are you?” Julian frowned, staring at me in confusion for a long moment before saying, “I’m your fiancé.” My mom and Julian’s mom both thought I had amnesia. They sat by my hospital bed, chiming in, one after another, telling me all about Julian and my supposed relationship. “You used to trail after Julian, calling him your ‘future hubby’ even when you were just a little kid.” “From kindergarten to high school, you two took the same car to school every single day.” “You officially started dating in college.” “After graduating, both you and Julian returned to your family businesses.” “You loved each other deeply, a perfect couple.” My mouth twitched. I cut them off. “Then why would I try to end my life for *another* man?” They both stiffened. Mrs. Blackwood was quick-witted. She dabbed at her eyes, letting out a soft, theatrical sob. “It’s all Julian’s fault. I told him not to go drinking with his secretary, but he just had to.” I looked at Mrs. Blackwood, asking, “Did he cheat on me with his secretary?” Mrs. Blackwood froze, then quickly shook her head. “No!” My mom joined the act, dabbing at imaginary tears in the corner of her eye. “He just went drinking with his secretary, and you got upset.” Julian’s secretary was a guy. Why would I get upset? I bit back a smile and asked my mom, “So I got mad and decided to kill myself?” My mom squeezed my hand. “Chloe, promise me you won’t do anything foolish again. You scared your mother half to death.” Mrs. Blackwood also squeezed my hand. “Chloe, you and Julian need to get married soon. Don’t worry, if he dares to drink with his secretary again, I’ll break his legs.” Drinking with someone hardly warranted breaking their legs. I looked up, meeting Julian’s eyes. He’d been standing silently behind them the whole time. Didn’t he say he was my fiancé? You wanna play games? Two can play at that game. “Will you marry me?” I asked him.
Julian’s dark eyes locked onto mine, a gaze so intense it felt like it could pull me in. “As long as you’re willing, I’m willing.” He said. My heart pounded when I heard that. The two moms weren’t entirely making things up. The Miller and Blackwood families were old friends. Julian and I were born in the same month, the same year; he was only three days older than me. From the moment they knew our genders, both families practically groomed us to be a couple. From preschool to college, we attended the same schools. They even pulled strings to make sure we were always in the same class. It wasn’t until college, when we chose different majors, that we weren’t in the same classroom anymore. Julian and I were *too* close. I swear I knew him better than he knew himself. Maybe it was that familiarity, but I’d never felt that heart-fluttering sensation with him. During college, I met Ryan Hayes, a gentle guy, and *he* was the one who made my heart race. Ryan and Julian were rivals, enemies. *I* pursued Ryan. When I confessed my feelings, he didn’t reject me. We had a very sweet relationship. My parents saw there was no spark between Julian and me. After trying to convince me otherwise, they eventually gave in and approved of my relationship with Ryan. It was only after I started dating Ryan that I learned he had someone else in his heart: his first love. I told him I didn’t mind, that it was all in the past. Julian, of course, called me an idiot, and his hatred for Ryan just intensified. I’d always wanted to get married, but Ryan was hesitant. Then, one day, he suddenly proposed to me. I later found out he proposed on the same day his first love got married to another man in America. The day before our engagement, he got a call from his first love. She was crying on the phone, saying her husband had beaten her. Ryan hung up and told me he was going to America to bring her back. I looked at Ryan, my voice cold. “What do you mean, you’re going to America to bring her back? Are you trying to kidnap someone else’s wife?” Ryan frowned, displeased. “Haven’t you seen all the horror stories online about domestic violence? Serena’s all alone, miles away in America, being beaten by her husband. Do you have any idea how helpless she must be?” “Can’t she call her parents? Can’t she call the police?” I shot back at Ryan. Ryan’s tone grew angry. “Chloe, stop being so unreasonable! I’ll still get engaged to you when I get back. You’re the only woman I’ll marry.” I looked at Ryan, my expression calm. “Tomorrow is our engagement party.” Ryan came over and pulled me into his arms. “We’ll postpone the engagement. I’ll pick Serena up and we can choose a new date.” I pushed him away. “If you dare to go find her, we’re over.” Ryan still flew to America to find his first love. As I drove home after our argument, I got into a car accident. Both the Blackwood and Miller families thought I tried to end my life because of Ryan. When I woke up from the crash, my irritation with Julian and my question about who he was, they all mistook it for amnesia.
The doctor came in and examined me. Once my mom and Mrs. Blackwood knew I was out of danger, they slipped away. They said Julian would take care of me and help me regain my memories. With them gone, only Julian and I were left in the luxury VIP suite. Julian stood by my bedside, looking down at me. My left leg was in a cast, my head wrapped in bandages. I didn’t need a mirror to know how awful I looked. I licked my cracked lips. “I want some water.” Julian went to pour water and helped me drink it. After drinking water, my appetite slowly returned. I said I wanted porridge, and he made it himself. I said I wanted soup, and he cooked it himself. Watching him busy in the VIP suite’s kitchen felt like being a child again. Julian was a Blackwood heir, but he wasn’t one of those spoiled rich kids who only knew how to party. He wasn’t just handsome and smart; he was also an excellent cook. In elementary school, I loved his noodles. In middle school, I loved his braised pork. After college… I hadn’t eaten his cooking anymore. After I started dating Ryan, Julian either ignored me or just snapped at me. His eyes would turn cold whenever he looked my way. I looked at Julian. Now, I was a person with “no memory.” I deliberately teased this somewhat stiff man. “Are we really deeply in love?” Julian turned to look at me. “You have a mole on the arch of your foot, and two small hypertrophic scars on your back.” His gaze darkened, settling on my chest, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. “You have a little red birthmark just under your right breast. So, tell me… how deep do you think our connection goes?” My cheeks flushed. The mole on my foot, fine. The scars on my back, fine. But that red birthmark on my right breast? How did he know about that? I discovered it when I was eighteen. It was in a very hidden spot; no one could see it when I wore a bra. I silently fumed. He’d definitely seen me naked, somehow! I glared at him, grinding my teeth. “Did you confess first, or did I?” Julian smirked. “I did.” I asked again, “When?” Julian truly treated me like I had amnesia. “After the exams, I gave you a card.” My mind went blank for a second. I remembered. After the exams, we walked out of the classroom together. Julian pulled me to a maple tree and asked me how I thought I did. I smiled brightly. “I feel pretty good about it.” He handed me a card. “This is for you.” I took the card. It was a photo of a famous piano master performing on stage. He knew the artist was my idol, but a week before the exam, my idol had a massive scandal, a total fall from grace. The thought of his scandal made me feel like my hands were dirty just holding the card. I looked for a trash can to toss it. Julian’s voice came from above me. “You don’t like it?” I nodded. “No, I don’t.” His voice changed subtly. “Didn’t you look at the words on the back of the card?” There were words on the back? I dutifully flipped the card over. The handwriting was elegant, with a confident flourish. [There’s a woman I can’t forget the moment I see her. A day without her, and I ache with longing.] My first reaction when I saw those words was: *Seriously? Is this plagiarized?* Julian’s voice came again. “Still don’t like it?” That piano master’s moral issues were just too severe. If I still liked him after *that*, I’d be a complete idiot. I said, “No, I don’t.” Then I threw the card away. Looking back now, I realized Julian’s face had been terrifyingly grim, with a hint of pained desolation. I stared at Julian, stunned. Was he confessing to me then? And I threw away his confession card right in front of him. Wasn’t that a blatant humiliation? No wonder he left the country right after the exams and didn’t come back until the first day of college. And no wonder his gaze was always so icy when he looked at me, always keeping his distance— I pursed my lips, stammering, “I… I didn’t know…” If I had known he was confessing to me then, I would never have said I didn’t like it. Strange. Why couldn’t he have just *said* it? Julian shook his head. “It’s normal that you don’t remember many things from before since you lost your memory. I’ll be by your side from now on, and I’ll tell you anything you want to hear.”
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