Vincent Cox lost his memory after being injured while saving me, forgetting our love and only remembering Kelly Talesman, whom he liked in his youth. They shamelessly held hands and kissed in front of me. Later, I accidentally overheard his conversation with a friend. “I didn’t lose my memory that easily. Kelly has cancer, and I want to accompany her through her remaining days, but I was afraid Cathy would be upset, so I came up with this plan. Once she passes away, I’ll immediately ‘recover’ my memory and marry Cathy.” So I played along with his scheme, becoming the stranger he claimed I was. He panicked and desperately recited every promise he’d ever made to me. But I was already done with him. ***** While Vincent and I were out on a photography trip, our car broke down. He held me tightly in his arms, protecting me completely. I wasn’t hurt at all, but he fell unconscious. I stayed by his side at the hospital for a long time. When he finally woke up, I rushed to embrace him, all my suppressed worry exploding in that moment. Crying, I said to him, “Vincent, you’re finally awake. Do you know how worried I’ve been…” “Who are you?” Vincent interrupted, pushing me away and looking at me with cold detachment. I froze, responding anxiously, “I’m Cathy Jameson, your fiancée. What’s wrong?” He frowned and said, “I don’t know you. I’ve always loved Kelly. Why would I marry you?” A sense of dread rose within me, and I quickly called for the doctor. The doctor explained that Vincent had amnesia and couldn’t tell when—or if—his memory would ever return. His memory was stuck ten years in the past, before he had met me. I brought him home and patiently showed him around: “This is our home. This is a gift you bought me. This is a souvenir we purchased together on vacation.” But his expression remained blank. He just smiled awkwardly but politely: “I’m sorry, Ms. Jameson, but I truly don’t remember anything.” He busied himself scrolling through his phone, saying he needed to find Kelly. I smiled bitterly, telling myself it would be okay, that he would remember eventually. He became like this because he saved me, so I couldn’t blame him, but my heart still ached involuntarily. As Vincent scrolled through his phone, his face suddenly contorted with pain. He murmured, “How can this be? Kelly has cancer and is dying. How could this happen?” He covered his face with his hands, crying silently. The news of her cancer shocked me, but I said nothing, just sitting quietly beside Vincent to comfort him. Just then, our doorbell rang. I opened it to find Kelly standing there. Seeing her, I was about to close the door to keep Vincent from knowing she was here, but he came over. Kelly immediately rushed forward to embrace him, and Vincent didn’t push her away. With tears in her eyes, Kelly pulled out a letter and said, “I just discovered the secret message of love you hid in the teddy bear you gave me. Ten years ago, I didn’t have the chance to tell you I loved you. Now I have cancer with little time left. I don’t want to leave life with regrets, so I came to find you. I just want to know, does that love still belong to me?” “Of course, my love has always been yours,” Vincent gazed at her tenderly, his eyes full of compassion and cherishing. Then he held the back of her head and kissed her fiercely and passionately, his youthful love exploding in that moment. But he forgot I was still standing there—forgot about the fiancée he had once risked his life to protect.
The image of Vincent protecting me, holding me tightly in his arms, still lingered in my mind. Yet here he was, kissing another woman right in front of me. My heart felt like it was being torn apart. An uncontrollable sadness spread through me, threatening to drown me completely. I walked forward, pulled Kelly away, and slapped her hard across the face. “This is my home. Please leave. Vincent is my fiancé. What you’re doing makes you the other woman. Have you no shame?” Kelly smirked disdainfully and said, “So what if you’re his fiancée? Ask him who he really loves.” I looked at Vincent, but he pulled Kelly behind him, distancing himself from me. “Ms. Jameson, Kelly is sick. If you have a problem, take it up with me. Don’t bully someone who’s ill,” he said. He continued, “Besides, I’ve told you countless times, I don’t know you. I love Kelly. Please don’t insult her by calling her the other woman. From where I stand, you’re the intruder here.” His words pierced my heart like tiny needles. Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to believe he truly remembered nothing. Surely our love had left some evidence behind. Crying, I went to the bedroom and retrieved a photo album. I opened it in front of him, pointing at the pictures. “This is us watching fireworks together. We had just started dating, and you promised to love me forever. And here we are at the amusement park, where you said you’d always protect my childlike spirit, no matter how old we got.” My tears kept falling onto the album, but I smiled as all our beautiful memories flooded my mind. Vincent’s eyes flashed with a hint of reluctance before quickly returning to their distant expression. He threw the album to the floor and said coldly, “Enough! Ms. Jameson, I told you I don’t remember. Maybe we were in love once, but so what? I’ve forgotten everything. I only remember loving Kelly. Do you expect me to spend my life with you based on memories that don’t exist for me?” I stood frozen, watching those photos—the ones he once said would be displayed at our wedding—scattered across the floor. Only then did I truly understand that the man before me genuinely couldn’t remember me. I said nothing more, silently crouching down to carefully pick up each photo. I wiped them clean and placed them back in the album, just as Vincent had once treasured them himself. Kelly leaned weakly against Vincent, pretending to be magnanimous. “Vince, don’t blame her. I’m dying, and I can’t bear to see others in pain. I don’t hold it against her. Look at my face—it’s still a bit swollen, but it doesn’t hurt.” Vincent touched her face, growing even more concerned, and pulled her along to buy medicine. I watched Vincent’s back as he led her away, suddenly feeling disconnected from reality. This all seemed like a nightmare—if only I could wake up soon. They didn’t return until evening. Kelly didn’t come back with him all the way, instead saying a reluctant goodbye at the door. “Vince, I’ll stay at the hotel rather than come to your place. Cathy’s still here, and I might get slapped again for being the other woman. You know my body can’t handle that kind of stress.” She glanced at me, feigning fear. I responded to her, “Don’t ever come here again. This is Vincent’s and my home. You’re not welcome.” Vincent looked back at me, then turned and embraced her, comforting her. “It’s okay. I’ll move out tomorrow to be with you. How about we buy a new house together?” Kelly nodded with a smile and left under Vincent’s lingering gaze.
He walked into the bedroom without looking at me once, as if I didn’t exist. Then he took out his suitcase and began packing his things, but he didn’t take any of the items that belonged to both of us. I watched him pack until midnight in silence. When he finished, he didn’t want to stay a moment longer and walked straight out the door, showing no attachment to me whatsoever. Watching his resolute figure walk away, I thought about the days ahead without him. I didn’t want to lose him—a man who had risked his life to save me. So I ran after him and called out, “I’ll stay with you until we’re old.” Those were the words he said when he proposed to me. Now that he had lost his memory, it was my turn to say these words to him. Vincent paused, slowly turned around, and saw me smiling through my tears. He walked toward me with heavy steps, and that moment felt so familiar. I couldn’t help wondering if his memory had returned. But his next words doused me with cold water. He said, “Ms. Jameson, I’m sorry to see you upset, but I really can’t do this. Please don’t put me in this position.” So he still didn’t remember. I cried my heart out, wanting to release all the pain inside. “I’ve had a crush on you since high school. You didn’t know me then, but I quietly looked after you in my own way. Later, when you said you wanted to become a photographer, I was the one who stayed by your side, supporting your dream.” “Your most famous collection of photos was taken for me. You said I was your muse, your inspiration. You promised to love me forever. You got hurt and lost your memory trying to protect me. I’ve loved you for ten years and been loved by you for five. I really don’t want to lose you,” I said. Vincent wiped away my tears and pulled me into his arms. I cried uncontrollably against his chest, soaking his shoulder within minutes. He remained silent, allowing me to hold him, letting me cry. “What are you doing?” Kelly suddenly appeared, interrupting us. Vincent nervously pushed me away, like a child caught doing something wrong. He explained, “Kel, don’t misunderstand. I was just comforting her.” Kelly rubbed her temples, looking unsteady on her feet. “Vince, if you have feelings for Cathy, I’ll step aside and leave you two alone.” She turned to leave. “I should go. I was just feeling unwell in the middle of the night and wanted your company. I didn’t mean to see this, I…” Kelly suddenly collapsed. Vincent rushed forward to catch her, then looked back at me and said, “Don’t contact me again. I don’t want Kel to misunderstand.” But I was his fiancée. Vincent never came back after that. I only learned about him when I accidentally came across Kelly’s TikTok account. She was documenting the final stage of her life and her love story with the boy who had a crush on her when they were young. Many followers were moved by their love story. User A: [Oh my God, what are you doing? They finally got together after all this time.] User B: [This love is truly touching. Kelly, if you die, Vincent will never forget you.] But some users questioned whether they were putting on a show. User C: [If she has cancer, how does she have so much energy to go out and have fun? She looks rosy-cheeked and healthier than me.] This comment made me realize something might be off about Kelly’s illness. Apart from appearing somewhat fragile at times, she didn’t look like a sick person at all. To investigate, I reached out to a good friend who specializes in treating this type of disease and told her everything about Vincent’s situation. After some thought, she concluded: “Something’s not right. Late-stage stomach cancer patients suffer terribly—not just from unbearable abdominal pain but also from mental confusion. Yet she’s out having fun and updating videos every day. It doesn’t look like she really has cancer.” So Kelly was faking it. After learning this, I wanted to expose her in front of Vincent right away, but something still felt off. Kelly had announced her cancer diagnosis shortly before Vincent lost his memory—the timing seemed too convenient. To help Vincent recover his memory and uncover the truth, I took his medical records to a different public hospital for another opinion. The doctor there said: “There’s no damage to his brain, so we can rule out traumatic amnesia. This appears to be psychogenic amnesia, caused by severe psychological trauma.” I stood there stunned, leaving without even thanking the doctor. At that moment, a terrifying possibility occurred to me: Vincent might be faking his memory loss.
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