The Speech That Stole My Mind Everyone said Julian Thorne, the genius scion of the Thorne family, was a master manipulator. He’d kept Scarlett Hayes, the fearless heiress to a billionaire fortune, by his side for seven years without a title or public recognition. All she wanted was for Julian to conquer the research on Alzheimer’s disease so he could finally marry her properly. But even as his company, started from scratch, effortlessly broke into the global top ten, his progress on Alzheimer’s research remained at zero. I didn’t blame Julian. I just silently straightened his messy tie before he left for the forum. Julian didn’t know that while the whole world celebrated his career’s success, I had just received my Alzheimer’s diagnosis. That wedding, it seemed, I’d never get. Soon, I would forget him, and even forget who I am. 1 “She shouldn’t be, she’s only in her twenties. How can she have a disease like Alzheimer’s?” The doctor’s words echoed in my mind. Even after I got home, they didn’t stop. The computer screen beside me flickered off. Four hours earlier, clinging to a final sliver of hope, I had searched for news of cured Alzheimer’s cases. But the news laid out the cruelest facts right in front of me. Losing basic motor functions, Unprovoked violent outbursts, Incontinence. These were all symptoms of late-stage Alzheimer’s. No one was spared. My chest ached, a dull, heavy pain. I closed the page, trying to temporarily escape the nightmare, but accidentally clicked on a folder. His entire family were doctors. Only by solving pressing medical challenges could one inherit the position of family head, marry, and start a family. As a once-in-a-generation genius, Julian had voluntarily increased the difficulty, stating he would only marry after his startup finance company achieved success and renown, and he had solved a major medical problem. With dual Ph.D.s in medicine and finance, he believed only by reaching the pinnacle of both fields could he live up to the family’s investment in his education and upbringing over the years. Coincidentally, the medical challenge Julian chose was Alzheimer’s disease. But now, the folder for Alzheimer’s research was an empty shell; not even the first step had been taken. Beside it, the plans for how his new company would go public and break into world rankings had been executed flawlessly. I stared blankly at the screen. Suddenly realizing a devastating truth. For seven years, Julian Thorne had never intended to marry me. The moment the screen went dark, the door suddenly opened. I instinctively swept the scattered medical reports off the table. Julian, however, frowned slightly at the open laptop. “Can you please not touch my things when I’m not around?” Julian closed the laptop, abruptly changing the subject. “Can you help me find my tie?” “There’s a charity event tonight I need to attend.” “I need to look formal.” In the drawer, His ties were perfectly categorized by color, neatly placed in small boxes. I found the most suitable one and handed it to Julian. “We’ve lived here for five years now.” “You really should start remembering where things are.” My reminder made a flicker of impatience cross Julian’s features. “It’s just a small thing, isn’t that what I have you for?” Julian packed the laptop from the table into his bag. Watching him skillfully tie his tie, I suddenly felt like I didn’t know him at all. I met Julian’s gaze in the mirror. It felt like only today I had caught a glimpse of the real man beneath the surface. Watching his back as he closed the door, a completely ordinary sight, I couldn’t control my tears, letting them stream down my face. The doctor said that within a year, my memory would be severely impaired. Forget remembering where his ties were; I might not even know who I was. Choking back a sob, I dialed a number. “Dr. Harrison, it’s me.” “I’m willing to donate my body, to provide you with a young patient sample for Alzheimer’s research.” Since Julian never intended to marry me, that wedding I would never get, I didn’t want it anymore.
All night, Julian didn’t come home. As the CEO of a startup that had broken into the global top ten in just seven years, he was a hot commodity. Changes to his schedule were common. The doctor settling back into his chair pulled me back to reality. The latest report lay on the table. My brain’s deterioration was progressing faster than average. Perhaps in half a year, I would forget everything. I quietly absorbed the devastating news. A familiar voice drew my attention. On the screen, Julian seemed to be giving an interview. The host’s laughter was hearty. “Mr. Thorne, have you ever wanted to thank a particular woman in your entrepreneurial journey?” Ever since Julian first made a name for himself, reporters had relentlessly dug into his private life. But not once had they managed to get a single scoop out of him. During his school days, Julian was a once-in-a-century genius. He skipped grades in elementary school, fast-tracked through high school, and completed all his university credits in just one year. He devoted himself entirely to his studies and career, never having any romantic entanglements. Just as everyone wondered what kind of partner this genius would choose, the news of Julian’s engagement to me broke. New York’s most notoriously wild and extravagant heiress, paired with a genius who only cared about books and had no sense of romance – somehow, they became a couple. The more desperately people tried to uncover the inside story, the more Julian refused to reveal anything. Just when I thought this interview would also end with his usual detached silence, Julian’s previously serious expression slowly softened, and his voice softened with tenderness. “Actually, for the company to achieve this ranking so smoothly, there is indeed a lady I need to thank.” In the hospital room, my heart pounded like a drum. “The person I want to thank…” “…is my company’s Chief Technical Officer, and also a junior from my undergraduate years—Chloe Jenkins.” The smile froze on my lips. The doctor’s pitiful gaze fell on me, and a thousand words of comfort compressed into a single sigh. Five years ago, a company employee called me, their voice urgent. “Ms. Hayes, can you reach Mr. Thorne? There’s another problem at the lab!” Opening the study door, I found Julian napping. Before I could speak, he opened his eyes and spoke first. “Are they looking for me?” Seeing me nod, a flicker of annoyance crossed Julian’s previously impassive face. My heart ached with sympathy and guilt. He had been working non-stop, pulling weeks of overtime abroad. I shouldn’t have disturbed him. As he was leaving, Julian looked down, his face tired. He said softly, “I’m really tired.” “I don’t understand why Mr. Miller and the others absolutely need me there.” “It seems like such a simple problem to me, but they just can’t figure it out.” It was the first time Julian had opened up emotionally, and I clumsily tried to comfort him. “Maybe it’s because you’re a genius.” He paused. “Do geniuses really have to bear more than normal people?” My heart ached for Julian. I spent an entire afternoon studying the company’s basic operational procedures and financial knowledge. I wanted to lighten his burden, to buy him some time to breathe in his suffocating schedule. But when I tried to discuss the company’s future strategies with him, Julian waved his hand dismissively, his face alight with undisguised delight. That day was the first time I heard Chloe Jenkins’ name. He said that Chloe, who had only started that afternoon, had solved all the problems before he even arrived at the office. He said that while the new girl was pretty, that was her least remarkable trait. Her charisma, decisiveness, and intelligence surpassed all the other employees in the company. Watching Julian speak animatedly about Chloe, my initial enthusiasm slowly faded. I tried to convince myself that I should be happy Julian had found a capable subordinate. I held my notebook, filled with meticulous notes, wanting to prove that his future wife was just as capable. “Don’t bother me.” “The company isn’t your playground. Add another dish my mother likes to the dinner menu tonight.” Two consecutive rejections made me realize that in his heart, I was never a teammate fighting alongside him. He was convinced I could only be a demure, virtuous, and ultimately useless rich wife. But Julian didn’t know that my notes were identical to the company development strategy he later formulated. The proposal I left on his desk slowly gathered dust, becoming a coaster for his coffee cup. Chloe Jenkins’ name, however, appeared in our conversations with increasing frequency. Julian’s daily commute was no longer his usual numb routine; he became anticipatory and appreciative. I started to feel uneasy. My old domineering personality resurfaced, and I demanded he take me to the company, to give me a position. But no matter what I tried, nothing worked. He just gave me a cold stare. Telling me to stop making a scene.
“Your tie today is very distinctive; it’s the perfect accent to your outfit.” “Mr. Thorne, do you usually have an interest in fashion?” The host’s question seemed to jar Julian. For the first time, he paused for three seconds before speaking. “My tie?” “My fiancée picked it out for me. Yes… for seven years, the company’s smooth operation has also been inseparable from her meticulous care and support behind the scenes. I’m very grateful to her, and I will definitely conquer the challenge of Alzheimer’s and marry her.” Those old vows now sounded like an empty promise. The person who would no longer be able to take care of him so meticulously wouldn’t be me. Soon, my memory would rapidly decline, and I would even wet myself, becoming a pathetic fool despised by everyone. I desperately wanted to ask Julian. At that time, would he regret not conquering Alzheimer’s and staying with me, or would he be relieved he never married me? Back home, I sat blankly on the sofa until evening. Julian opened the door, carrying a trendy strawberry cake from the new popular bakery down the street. That shop had an unspoken rule: a minimum purchase of two. Now, in the box, only one cake lay lopsidedly at the bottom. I couldn’t hold back, voicing the thought in my heart. “Was the other cake for Chloe Jenkins?” Julian stopped on his way to change clothes. “If you’re not going to eat it, I can take it back to the office tomorrow.” “There’s no need to make such pathetic assumptions, being so aggressive…” He turned, saw my tears rolling down my face, and the rest of his sentence caught in his throat. “Why is she the woman you’re most grateful for?” My voice trembled. “Why didn’t you even bother to tell me you didn’t come home last night?” Recalling all the little slights and compromises over the years, my vision blurred. “Why is Chloe Jenkins always ahead of me?” “Julian, it’s been seven years.” “Seven years! Have you ever actually thought about marrying me?” My heart ached with a dull pain with every breath. I didn’t hear his response, my eyes burned, and uncontrollable sobs echoed through the living room. I finally managed to steady my breathing. Wiping away my tears haphazardly, I unexpectedly met Julian’s utterly blank eyes. “Are you losing your mind?” “Once you’re done crying, go to bed early.” “Company matters are already bothering me enough; can you please stop adding to my troubles?” He closed the door and went into his room, leaving me alone in the living room. The TV reflected me: disheveled hair, cheeks flushed from crying, exhaustion in my eyes impossible to hide. I looked like a madwoman. I slept on the sofa all night. When I woke up, a soft, thin blanket was draped over me. Julian placed an iced coffee in my hand. “Your eyes are swollen from crying. Use the coffee to reduce the swelling.” He paused. “There’s a dinner party tonight. Do you want to come with me?” Seven years of engagement, and this was the first time Julian had ever actively brought me into the public eye. Seeing me nod, he reached out and ruffled my hair. “Okay, I’m heading to work then. I’ll send you the address later.” All afternoon, I prepared for the dinner party. I pulled out a gown I’d bought years ago but never had the occasion to wear. I put on the most perfect makeup. I didn’t even eat lunch, just to cinch myself into the perfect silhouette. In front of the mirror, I double-checked everything multiple times, and at the appointed time, I left, satisfied. But I had forgotten one thing: the stove in the kitchen was still on. The herbal tea I was preparing to drink was still brewing on high heat.
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