Chapter 2

The sudden, sharp click of a door handle snapped me out of my spiralling thoughts.

“You’re finally awake.”

Andrew stood by the doorway; his tone was drenched in exasperation rather than relief. “Quit being ridiculous, Sophia. I was just trying to drop Kate home, and you had to chase after us, making a massive scene in the middle of the street. Look at what you’ve done now; you finally got yourself into a car accident. Happy now?”

His words felt like a cold slap across my face.

A car accident.

The hazy memories slowly began to piece themselves back together in my mind. Yesterday. The pouring rain. The sight of my husband of five years speeding off with my younger sister, laughing as if I didn't exist. The screeching tyres. The shattered glass.

I was now in the hospital room.

My eyes drifted past Andrew’s furious face, shifting toward the corner of the private room. Sitting quietly on a sleek leather armchair was Taylor.

She was holding a folded newspaper, her dark, piercing eyes locked onto me. She had been sitting there in silence the entire time. God, how long had she been in the room? Did she see me waking up sweating, gasping, trapped in that wild dream about her?

Before I could process her presence, my gaze swung back to my husband. Five years of marriage. Five years of devotion, compromises, and quiet endurance.

And in his eyes, I couldn't find a single shred of concern for whether I lived or died.

A cold, bitter realisation settled deep in my chest, but instead of breaking down, something inside me clicked. I slowly brought a trembling hand up to my forehead, wincing as if a sudden, blinding migraine had hit me.

“What... what are you talking about?” I whispered, letting my voice crack with forced confusion. “My head... it hurts so bad...”

Andrew scoffed, but before he could bark another insult, I looked directly into his eyes with complete blankness.

“I... I don't remember anything.”

The annoyance on Andrew’s face instantly froze. “What?” He turned abruptly toward a man in a white coat standing near the foot of the bed.

“Doctor! What’s wrong with her?”

He sounded urgent, but I knew him too well. He didn't care about my health; he was terrified of what I remembered.

The doctor stepped forward, checking my vitals with a solemn expression. “The impact from the collision was severe, Mr Andrew. It’s not uncommon for trauma like this to induce temporary retrograde amnesia. She’ll need rest, but her memory should return gradually.”

Silence stretched across the room. Andrew stared down at me, his mind clearly racing, trying to figure out how to handle this unexpected turn of events.

I clutched the white hospital bedsheet in my fist, squeezing the fabric until my knuckles turned pale. Looking up at Andrew, I let my eyes fill with innocent, fragile desperation.

“You... you seem really close to me,” I murmured, my voice soft and hesitant. “Tell me... are you my husband?”

I waited, holding my breath, desperate to see how far his cruelty would go.

Andrew stared down at me. For a second, hesitation flickered in his eyes and then a dark, calculating warmth replaced it.

“No,” Andrew lied smoothly, without a single blink. “No, Sophia. You’ve got it wrong. I’m just your brother-in-law.”

My heart hammered against my ribs, cold dread washing over me.

“That woman over there?” Andrew continued, turning around and pointing directly at Taylor, who sat unmoving in her chair. “That’s my older sister, Taylor. She’s your husband.”

I saw the briefest flash of genuine shock pass through Taylor’s eyes. Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of her newspaper, but she didn't utter a word to stop him.

Andrew quickly stepped away from my bed, striding over to Taylor. He leaned down, lowering his voice into an urgent, desperate whisper that he thought I couldn't hear.

“Taylor, please... just play along with this once,” he begged her softly. “Help me out. Just get her away from me.”

Watching him plead with his own sister just to cover up his affair with Kate broke whatever was left of my heart. To protect my younger sister, to cut ties with me without facing the scandal of a divorce, Andrew was willing to throw me to another woman.

I closed my eyes briefly, enduring the agonising ache in my chest.

Then, the quiet sound of paper rustling filled the room.

Taylor slowly folded her newspaper and placed it on the side table. She stood up, her tall, commanding figure casting a long shadow across the floor as she walked over to my bedside.

She stood over me, her intense, unreadable gaze searching my face.

“Yes,” Taylor said, her voice rich, calm, and absolute. “I’m your husband.”

Oddly enough, hearing the lie come from Taylor’s lips didn't send a sharp wave of pain through me the way Andrew’s betrayal had. Instead, it sent a strange, electric tremor straight down my spine.

Taylor turned her gaze toward the physician. “Doctor, can I take my wife home now that she’s awake?”

“Yes, Ms Taylor,” the doctor replied with a respectful nod. “She’s physically stable enough to be discharged. I’ll stop by your estate tomorrow for a follow-up exam.”

“Thank you,” Taylor replied smoothly.

Before I could react, Taylor leaned over the bed. She slid one arm under my shoulders and the other beneath my knees, effortlessly scooping me into her arms.

“You’re safe now,” she murmured close to my ear, her voice surprisingly gentle as she gathered me against her chest. “Don't worry. I’m taking you home.”

She turned and carried me straight out of the hospital room. Andrew stayed behind, leaning against the wall, watching us leave with a look of pure relief completely.

Taylor carried me through the bright corridors and out to the parking lot. She didn't put me down for a single second. When we reached her sleek black SUV, she opened the back door and laid me down gently across the plush leather seat before climbing into the driver’s side.

Throughout the entire drive home, I kept my eyes closed, pretending to rest. But every few seconds, I could feel her gaze on me through the rearview mirror. She checked on me continuously a subtle, constant vigilance that Andrew had never once given me in five whole years of marriage.

When we finally arrived at the grand White estate, the house was deathly quiet.

Taylor opened the back door, lifted me back into her arms, and carried me inside. Instead of heading toward the master bedroom I used to share with Andrew, she walked up the grand staircase and carried me directly into her private suite.

Why is she taking me to her room? panic flared briefly in my chest. Is she really planning on taking this fake marriage all the way?

She carried me inside, gently placing me onto the centre of her massive king-sized bed. She leaned over, adjusting the heavy pillows behind my back so I could sit comfortably.

Because of how close she was, her lingering scent of a mix of sandalwood filled my senses. Her breath brushed warm against my cheeks, making my pulse race out of control.

“You were chasing after me,” Taylor suddenly whispered, her voice dropping into a low, velvet hum.

I blinked, momentarily thrown off. “What...? I was... chasing you?”

“Well, you’ve been hot on my heels lately, haven't you?” Taylor said, stepping closer until her knees pressed against the edge of the mattress. She reached out, her warm, slender fingers delicately capturing my chin. “Relentlessly pursuing me, as if I were your sole target.”

Hell nah.. I said.

Before I could say another word, Taylor leaned down further. She rested her forehead gently against mine, trapping me in her orbit. Our breaths mingled together in the tiny space between us, hot and heavy, making my head spin.

The physical proximity was overwhelming. The memory of my dream flashed unbidden behind my eyelids: Taylor pinning me down, kissing me until I couldn't breathe.

“I... I’m not ready for this yet,” I stammered, my cheeks burning as I tried to pull back. “I can't... I can't remember a single thing.”

Taylor held my chin firmly, preventing me from turning away.

A slow, breathtaking smile slowly spread across her lips. Her eyes glittered with a dangerous, dark amusement that made my blood run hot.

“Sophia...” Taylor murmured softly, her thumb lightly tracing the outline of my lower lip. “Do you really think it’s fun to pretend you’ve lost your memory?”