Better Left Forgotten

After falling into the sea and losing my memory, I spent five agonizing years trapped in a filthy, isolated fishing village. For half a decade, I survived by digging through dumpsters and wrestling stray dogs for scrap leftovers. I was barely human, living more like a ghost than a person. Then came the sixth year. A team of bodyguards tackled me on the beach and dragged me right to a woman’s feet. She took one look at the scaly, rotting skin on my cheek and pinched her nose in disgust. She claimed to be my wife. Claimed she’d spent the last six years searching everywhere for me. Yet there wasn't a single spark of joy in her eyes when she saw me. She didn't care that I was reduced to skin and bones. She didn't bother asking why I walked with a severe limp. All she cared about was shoving me onto a private jet as fast as possible. They flew me straight to an elite private hospital. Lying in the ICU was a young man who bore a strong resemblance to me. The second the doctor announced that my tissue was a perfect match, a smile finally broke across the woman’s face. I overheard her cold, sharp voice whispering in the hall, "Well, Aiden, I guess you're finally good for something." In that exact moment, my lost memories came flooding back like a violent tidal wave. She hadn't spent six years searching for me out of love or desperation. Tessa Laurent had spent six endless years hunting me down for one single reason: to rip out my healthy kidney and give it to my half-brother.