They say the hardest thing about love is letting go, but no one tells you how difficult it is to be forgotten and not just left behind, completely erased.
I stepped down from the taxi, inhaling the crisp air around me. I stood elegantly in front of Grey Group's headquarters. I shouldn’t be here. At least not after everything that happened three years ago, not after what Maverick Grey said to me, not after the way Clarissa looked at me in the hospital hallway like some pathetic girl begging for love. But here I was. Standing in front of the grand lobby of Grey Groups headquarters, holding a resume in hand with a fake identity. I stepped into the polished glass lobby of Grey Group, my heels clicking against the marble, forcing myself not to look around. I already knew what I would see: immaculate design, corporate opulence, and portraits of the man whose face still haunted my dreams. Liam Grey. He was everywhere. In the subtle, sleek branding. In the lingering tension of every worker who glanced up as I walked across the lobby. He was a ghost draped in power, and I, Elsie was walking straight into the mouth of his empire. But he doesn’t remember me. Three years ago, we stood side by side at a candlelit altar whispering vows of love in secret. It took one accident, a media cover-up, and Liam had no recollection of the woman he once promised forever. He couldn’t remember me or anything that happened in the last two years. And today, I was here for an interview as his new personal assistant. I stopped at the front desk, and I smiled briefly at the woman seated behind the desk. “Good morning, my name is Anita Marshals.” I paused briefly to take in my surroundings. “I am here for the interview.” I slid my credentials across the counter. The woman at the front desk gave me a tight smile. “Miss Marshals? You’re early.” “Well, I believe in first impressions,” I said softly. She looked small from behind the desk, I guess she is more on the petite side. “Would you mind filling out this form? Mr. Grey prefers physical copies.” She asked Of course he does. I took the clipboard, using the false name I had chosen carefully: Anita marshals. His family made it clear, No trace of Elsie Monroe was allowed within these walls. Not yet. I filled in each field with calm precision, just as I had drafted out every detail of my plan. Get close. Find out what really happened. And maybe, just maybe… make him remember. The receptionist gave a practiced nod and gestured toward the row of chairs near the elevators. “Interviews for the CEO’s assistant will be done on the thirty-second floor. You’ll be called shortly.” I nodded and murmured a little thank you, adjusting the fall of my hair to hide the faint scar near my temple, a reminder from the same night Liam nearly died. Barely ten minutes later, the elevator doors opened and a woman in a sharp navy suit called my fake name. “Mr.Grey is ready to see you.” The ride up was suffocating, my feet felt sweaty and I was nervous. Walking down the corridor, I was wearing a white cooperate pants with matching white blazers. I paired it with Red heels and made sure I accessorized to perfection. When the door opened to his office, the air shifted. There he was. The man I haven’t seen in three years. Liam Grey stood with his back towards me, staring out across the city skyline with one hand in his pocket, the other holding a phone he wasn’t using. As I entered he slowly turned to face me. And for a second just one second, I saw something flicker in his eyes. Recognition? No. It vanished as quickly as it came. ‘Good morning sir’ I greeted my soon-to-be boss or should I say Husband. “You may have your seat” “Anita marshals,” he said, glancing at the file in front of him. “You worked at Hamilton Medical?” I nodded. “For three years. I’ve handled senior-level administrative roles and project scheduling.” He didn’t respond. Just stared. Not cold exactly,more like confused. As if trying to figure something out. My heart pounded. ‘He doesn’t know me.’ I kept repeating that to myself probably a hundred times. “Why did you leave?” he asked. “I relocated ” I answered smoothly. He kept staring longer than was necessary, then leaned back in his chair. “I don’t usually handle interviews myself,” he said. “But something about your file caught my attention.” I could barely breathe. Tempted to ask what it was. “Consider this a trial week. Temporary contract. If you can handle the pace here, we’ll talk permanence.” “Thank you, Mr. Grey,” I replied briefly standing up. “Stop at HR for your contract and work starts by 8.” “And I don’t tolerate any form of lateness,” He said once again, already turning away. As I stepped out of his office, my knees shook beneath my tailored suit. Not because I had pulled it off, but because for the first time in three years, he had looked into my eyes and not seen me. Not his wife. Not his past. Not the woman who once held his broken body, blood pouring onto her white dress, screaming his name into the dark. All I could do inside the Taxi was think back to the day everything fell apart. —Three years ago— The hospital corridor was ice-cold, but that wasn’t why I was shivering. It had been three weeks since Liam’s accident and ten days since I’d been allowed to set foot in this building again. Three whole weeks of being invisible to the man I married, the man who once told me I was the only thing in his life that made sense. I clutched my wedding ring tightly in my palm, feeling its edges dig into my skin like punishment. I shouldn’t have come here. His father made that very clear. “You have no place here,” Maverick Grey had said, his voice razor-sharp as he stood in front of the hospital doors. “You’re not just a bad decision he made, you’re a phase my son doesn’t remember. Consider yourself lucky I’m not having security drag you out.” And yet here I was, standing in a hallway filled with doctors and nurses pretending not to see me. Because no one dares cross Maverick Grey. Not even me. But I had to see Liam. Just once. Just to know he was breathing, healing. That somewhere inside him, there was still a piece of the man who whispered I love you in the dark and held me like I was the only thing he owned in a world full of gold. When we married quietly at the courthouse, he’d insisted on keeping it a secret. Said his family would destroy me, and the media would pick me apart. “I’ll protect you,” he’d told me. “No one needs to know until it’s right.” It was never right. But I never stopped waiting. I stepped closer to his room. The blinds were partially closed, but I could see him,sitting up, awake. My heart nearly stopped. I hadn’t seen him since before the cras h. He looked... different. Paler. Leaner. Bruised. But still devastatingly handsome in that effortless, unreachable way. Then I saw her. Liam’s childhood friend. Clarissa Reed. Blonde. Polished. Elegant. And everything the Grey family would approve of. She was sitting beside his bed, her hand casually resting on his arm like she belonged there. Laughing softly. Smiling too perfectly. My stomach twisted. I didn’t even know she’d come back from Europe. They looked closely. Comfortable. Intimate in a way that sent daggers through my chest. I watched for a few more seconds, then turned away. This was a mistake. I should never have come. “Elsie?” The voice made me freeze. Not Liam’s, I would’ve known it even after a hundred years. No, this one belonged to his father. Maverick Grey’s cold gaze landed on me like a spotlight. “You again.” I swallowed hard and forced a smile. “I just wanted to see him. Just once.” “You’ve seen enough,” he said without moving. “He’s recovering well. He has Clarissa and the rest of us. There’s no need for confusion.” “No need for me to stay with my husband you mean?” I shot back, though my voice trembled. Maverick’s jaw tightened. “There’s no record of a marriage. No photos. No witnesses. You don’t even carry his name.” Because you made him keep it secret. “Liam wanted to protect me from you,” I said softly. “He was afraid you’d ruin us.” He leaned in, his expression lethal. “He doesn’t remember you or anything that happened in the last years, and I intend to keep it that way.” Tears threatened to rise, but I blinked them back. “That’s not your decision to make.” “It is when it protects his legacy,” he snapped. “You were never part of it, Elsie. Whatever fantasy you built around my son ends here.” Just then, the door behind him opened. Clarissa stepped out. She gave me a once-over and smiled, full of sugar and venom. “You’re still here? That’s brave.” I ignored her. “He’s awake?” She nodded. “Just tired. You might want to come back another year.” “Can I see him one last time please, who knows some sort of miracle might happen” I pleaded, the desperation in my voice couldn’t go unnoticed. Maverick folded his arms. “Go home, Elsie. Leave this to the people who matter.” I wanted to scream. To cry. To shove the ring in his face and tell him the truth. But none of it would matter. Not here. Not now. So I did the only thing I could do. I walked away. Back through the hallway where no one met my eyes. Back into a world where my marriage didn’t exist. My husband couldn’t remember the promises he made to me.I stood in my hotel room, Liam’s hand warm around mine, the threatening note still clenched in his other fist. *You were warned*, it read. The words felt like a cold blade against my spine. My phone lay facedown on the bed, hiding the earlier text tying my mom’s death to Liam. The sea roared outside, its endless crash mixing with the cicadas’ hum, but inside, it was just us, two people caught in a storm of secrets and half-remembered truths. His eyes, raw and searching, held mine, his words about my voice feeling like home still echoing in my chest. He’d promised to stay close, to keep me safe, and for now, that was enough to hold me together. That night, I slept in his arms. The next morning, the sun burned through the balcony doors, sharp and unforgiving. I barely slept, my mind spinning with the note, the text, and Liam’s nightmares about a faceless woman *me* I was sure, but couldn’t say. We didn’t talk about it as we got ready for the day’s work. Liam was back in CEO mod
I sat frozen on the edge of the bed, the phone’s glow burning my eyes, that message scarred into my brain. *Stay away from Liam or you’ll end up like your mom.* My hands shook, the air too thick to breathe. The sea roared outside, mocking me with its endless waves. My mom’s death was sharp, sudden, and a house fire they called an accident had always felt wrong, like a puzzle with missing pieces. Now someone was tying it to Liam, to us, and the threat felt like a blade at my throat. I wanted to scream, to call Aunt Natty, to run to Liam’s room and beg him to remember me. But I just sat there, heart pounding, the world tilting under me. Should I tell Liam about the threats? But how do I explain all these? A soft knock at the door snapped me out of it. My breath caught, pulse spiking. It was midnight and nobody should be here. The phone slipped from my hand, landing on the sheets. I stood, legs shaky, and crept to the door, the marble floor cold under my bare feet. “Who’
The plane hit the Athens runway, and my gut twisted like I had swallowed a rock. Greece was supposed to be a mini vacation, a way to dodge the mess of my life. Instead, it felt like walking into a fight, every look at Liam reminding me of the secrets burning inside me. Our hidden marriage, the crash that stole his memory, the truth Natty and I were digging up bit by bit. I couldn’t relax. Liam slammed his laptop shut next to me, breathing hard as the cabin lights buzzed. Even after nine hours in the air, he looked too good, clean white shirt, sleeves rolled up to show strong arms, jaw tight like he was chewing on a thought. Everyone else saw a guy who could own a room. But I saw the real stuff: his left hand shaking when he grabbed his water, the shadows in his warm eyes when things got too quiet, like he was hiding cracks nobody noticed. “Team meeting this afternoon,” he said, voice smooth but tired. “Dinner with the investors tonight. You got the plan?” “Every bit,” I said,
My phone buzzes on the kitchen table, Aunt Natty’s name glowing against the dim morning light. She’s not just my godmother, she’s the closest thing I’ve got to family. I grab it quickly, my heart already pounding.“Aunt, what did you find?” I ask, pacing the tiny kitchen, the smell of coffee grounding me.“Elsie, honey, hold still because this is a shocker,” she says, her voice sharp with that fire I’ve always loved. “I got Clara in records to pull Liam’s file again. It isn’t good. Dr. McMillian, the slick neurologist who signed his release.”There was a pause“But there’s no medication listed. None. No painkillers, no anti-seizure meds, nothing. For a man in a coma for three weeks? That’s not a slip-up. That’s suspicious.” She continued.My stomach twists. Last week when I told her about McMillian resigning, I saw the suspicion spark in her eyes. She knows the hospital better than anyone, and just his name set her off. “You think he was hiding something?” I whisper, my grip on the ph
Mr. Grey, this is the file you requested.”Her voice drifted in, soft and careful, just before a polite knock sounded on my office door.I looked up, smirking to myself. Anita Marshals stood there, folder clutched in her hands, her posture composed as always. But I had long since stopped seeing her as just another secretary.“Mr. Grey now, huh?” I drawled, leaning back in my chair, letting my eyes linger on her longer than necessary. “So that’s what we’re doing? Just Mr. Grey?”Her brows pinched slightly as she stepped closer, laying the folder neatly on my desk. “You asked for the report,” she said evenly, her voice polite but restrained.“Yes, but Liam works just fine.” I tilted my head, letting the grin sharpen just enough to make her blush. “Especially considering the night at your house.”Her hands stilled. A faint flush crept into her cheeks before she could stop it. She quickly clasped her fingers together, trying to compose herself, but the damage was already done.And just li
I sat down calmly at the diner while I listened to the faint hum of the light jazz song filling the background. The notes drifted lazily through the air, mixing with the clinking sounds of cutlery and the low murmur of distant conversations. It isn’t a fancy diner, no dazzling chandelier hanging in the center or marble countertop top but it is just the perfect place to have a meeting you want no one to find out about. My feet tap lightly on the tiled floor betraying the nerves I am trying to keep low and thankfully the dim light did justice in covering the nervousness on my face. A soft chime from the doorbell indicating someone had just entered the diner dragged my attention. And then a large smile covers my face when I saw her. I looked up, and the moment I saw her, my lips stretched out a smile I haven't worn in years. Aunt Natty. I stood up raising an eager wave to catch her attention. She stops mid-step, her eyes locking on me. Not much has changed about Aunt Natty in the l