Chapter 1

Three years of marriage shattered.

My husband, for the sake of pure love, forced me to have an abortion and get divorced.

I nearly died on the operating table.

Three years later, he had an accident, his memory frozen at the year he loved me most.

He pursued me fiercely but failed, then asked me for one last embrace.

After the embrace, he died in a car accident.

I received his letter.

He wrote:

"Aria, I hate him."

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1

Three years later, I suddenly received a call from an unknown number.

On the other end of the line was my ex-husband, whom I hadn't been in touch with for ages.

His voice sounded familiar yet tinged with a hint of self-pity:

"Aria, I've been injured for so long. How come you haven't come to see me?"

I hung up without hesitation, but the ringtone persisted, chiming again relentlessly.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, I blacklisted his number.

At 8:40 PM, out of consideration for the hardships of working people and the doctor's near-tearful plea, I arrived at the hospital.

In the ward, Everett was half-lying on the bed.

His right leg was immobilized in a cast, and a bandage wrapped around his forehead, with faint traces of blood seeping through.

He was idly scrolling through his phone when he looked up, his eyes instantly lighting up:

"Aria, you really came!"

He boasted about his exceptional hearing with a smug expression.

"I knew it was you just by the sound of your footsteps."

I stood at the doorway, silently observing him without uttering a word.

Because Everett had lost his memory.

The assistant told me he was struck by falling construction materials while inspecting a job site.

As for when he might regain his memory, even the doctor couldn't say for sure.His memories were frozen in time, stuck seven years ago in the prime of his youth.

In our social circle, those so-called young masters always gossiped about me, calling me a gold digger who was using Everett to climb the social ladder, ready to kick him to the curb once he was no longer useful.

When these rumors reached his ears, he was so furious that he got into fistfights with his friends.

Back home, he held my hand tightly, his eyes brimming with tears, apologizing for letting me suffer such insults and vowing to cut ties with those friends.

Later, he made the bold decision to move out of the Stratton family home, choosing to rent an apartment with me instead.

On the night we moved in, he clung to me tightly, burying his face in the crook of my neck like a puppy separated from its mother, so insecure.

In the middle of the night, I faintly heard him whisper, "Aria, you're all I have now."

On the eve of our wedding, he couldn't stop holding my hand and talking, his voice trembling with excitement, his eyes sparkling with joy.

"Aria, we have a home now."

"Aria, I promise I'll treat you well and love you forever."

However, the Everett of later years forgot all these promises.

He no longer loved Aria; all his affection was given to another woman.

In his home, there was no longer a place for Aria.All that remained for me was that life-and-death struggle on the operating table, and the cold, hard divorce papers.

Everett didn't remember any of it.

He couldn't understand why the girl who had cuddled up to him so tenderly yesterday was now so cold towards him.

"Aria," he called softly, his fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of my shirt.

"Did Dashiell and the others gossip about me to you again? I'll go teach them a lesson right now."