He Faked Amnesia, so I Claimed His Rival

Three hours ago, Caspian and I had the worst fight of our five-year marriage.

By the end of it, he rubbed his temples exhaustedly and gave me a tender gaze. "It is my fault. I will go get those chocolates you love from that shop to make it up to you, okay?"

That chocolate shop was an hour's drive away.

But I waited three hours, and he never came back.

Until I got a text from Marco, his right-hand man:

"Caspian was ambushed. We are at the hospital."

My mind went completely blank. The blood drained from my face, and my hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold my car keys.

I ran all the way to the hospital, losing one of my heels in the process.

"Marco!" I grabbed the man guarding the room by his collar. "How is he?!"

Marco refused to meet my gaze.

"Mrs. Solis, please calm down."

"He is physically fine. The bullet only grazed him. But..."

"But what?!" I snapped, my heart in my throat.

"The explosion caused a severe concussion. His mental state is... a bit off. You need to prepare yourself."

I did not care about the warnings. As long as he was alive, nothing else mattered.

I shoved the door open.

"Caspian—"

The name died in my throat.

Caspian was sitting up in bed, his head wrapped in bandages. He appeared pale, but there was a woman in his arms.

She had her face buried in his chest, and he was gazing down, pressing tender kisses to her hair.

The sight burned my eyes.

I recognized her. It was Ivy.

She was Caspian's personal secretary, but I had forced him to fire her a month ago because she crossed the line. She was the reason we fought today.

Why was she here?

I stared at their tangled bodies. My nails dug into my palms, but I could not feel the pain.

Hearing the door, Ivy turned her head like a startled deer. Seeing me, she shrank deeper into Caspian's embrace.

"Caspian..." she trembled, her voice dripping with fear.

Caspian glanced up.

His gaze bypassed Ivy and landed on me. His eyes were dead cold. It was the look of a man staring at a trespassing stranger.

"Who are you?" he frowned, his tone laced with raw annoyance.

It felt like a sledgehammer to the chest.

What was he asking? We had known each other for twenty years, married for five. And now, he was asking who I was?

"Caspian, is this a joke?" I forced my voice steady, taking a step toward the bed. "It is me, Lorelai. Your—"

"She is your wife," Ivy murmured timidly.

Caspian's frown deepened. He did not let go of Ivy. Instead, he intertwined his fingers with hers right in front of me.

He scanned me up and down like I was a piece of defective merchandise—taking in my messy hair, my sweat-ruined makeup, and the broken heel dangling from my hand.

"Wife?" He scoffed, treating it like a sick joke.

"Caspian, what is wrong with you?" My eyes burned as I reached for his hand. "Marco said you hit your head. Do you really not remember me? I am your wife!"

"Do not touch me."

He slapped my hand away so hard I stumbled into a medical monitor with a loud thud.

"Get out," Caspian spat, his eyes full of disgust. "Before I call security."

My heart turned to dust.

At our wedding, he had dropped to one knee in front of all our guests, swearing he would never raise his voice at me, never let me shed a single tear.

He broke his vow.

"We grew up together. I have been your wife for five years, Caspian." I stared into his eyes, fighting back a sob. "Even with amnesia, you cannot erase that."

But Caspian had already looked away, ignoring me completely.

Staring at the bandages on his head, I tried to comfort myself. He is alive. That is all that matters.

He would remember eventually. We had the rest of our lives.

It is okay. Take it slow.

The next day, I brought our marriage certificate and our matching bracelets.