Chapter 2

"Gather all the diaries about Simon. I've chosen to erase him from my memory."

"Is that so?"

Wendy Yaleman, my closest companion, sounded elated over the phone.

She had consistently urged me to end my marriage.

She remarked, "When you're no longer content, it signals the end of your union. He's kept your relationship under wraps all this time—can that even be called love?"

At the time, I knew in my heart that Simon's behavior was disrespectful.

Yet how did I justify his actions?

I convinced myself he was preoccupied and his profession took precedence, but reality hit me hard.

On a survival-themed reality program, he collaborated effortlessly with Hannah, addressing her as "my sweet darling" at every opportunity.

Gossip about their relationship was spreading rapidly.

Wendy was correct. I had been both foolish and oblivious.

I couldn't continue living in denial when the truth was so evident. I was truly drained.

I nodded resolutely. "Wendy, I'm grateful. However, I want to incinerate those diaries myself."

"No problem, I'll head straight to your next filming location."

Her response alleviated some of the heaviness in my chest.

I removed my high heels and made my way back to the campsite.

Despite the end of filming, everyone remained awake.

Some participants played chess while Hannah and Simon sat close together for warmth.

One guest joked, "No wonder people said Hannah declined so many offers during the show. She's already spoken for!"

Simon didn't refute it. Instead, he gently placed Hannah's hands in his lap, holding them tenderly.

Hannah's face reddened as she nestled her head against his chest.

The mood shifted dramatically when I returned.

Someone whispered quietly.

"I noticed Ms. Stevens summoned Mr. Ford earlier, and she came back looking rather upset."

"Isn't she that notorious interloper? Fully aware his ideal match is Hannah, yet shamelessly clinging to him."

Hannah must have overheard the whispers, as she couldn't conceal her satisfied grin.

"Claire, care to join us by the fire?"

"No, tha—"

Before I could finish, Simon interrupted me brusquely.

"Stay away. There's no room for you here."

I nodded composedly and was about to depart when he called out to me.

As I turned back, a hot water bottle was tossed into my arms.

He avoided eye contact, his expression frigid as he resumed embracing Hannah.

I gazed at the hot water bottle, reflecting on his public image as a cold yet secretly kind-hearted "tsundere" movie star.

He maintained this persona even off-screen.

Gripping the hot water bottle, I entered my tent.

It felt as though I had been excluded from the world.

Outside, there was merriment and cheer; inside, only stillness and isolation.

I suffer from amnesia—my memories reset every three years. Anything beyond age 20 gradually fades away. That's why I maintain extensive journals chronicling my life over the years.

Half—no, more than half—of those entries revolve around Simon.

We were together for three years and secretly wed for another three.

The first time I informed Simon I was on the brink of forgetting him, he was preparing for a film shoot.

He laughed and embraced me. "This isn't the time for jesting. I know you can't stand the thought of losing me. I'm doing all this for our future."

A young, vivacious woman was invariably more captivating than someone as dull and insecure as myself.

Hannah was the leading actress in that film. During production, rumors about them began to circulate.

Paparazzi even captured Simon slipping into Hannah's hotel room late at night, suggesting they were likely in a clandestine relationship.