Chapter 32: Remember Me

As her final note faded, the hall fell into a breathless hush. Even when she rose and bowed, the audience seemed stunned—until, like a storm breaking, thunderous applause swept through the hall.

Alexander turned to Beatrice with a sneer. “I should thank you for this,” he said. “If not for you, I’d never have known my daughter was a musical prodigy.”

Color burned in Beatrice’s cheeks, but Alexander merely looked away and clapped with fervor. With a sharp huff, Beatrice pivoted and strode off; standing beside him and listening to him lionize Alicia was more than she could bear.

Alicia left the podium and headed for Andy. Across the aisle, Ethan watched her, his face a tangle of emotion, regret clouding his eyes. Emily seized his arm and tugged him toward the exit. Even as he followed, dazed and unwilling, he kept glancing back—unable to tear his gaze from Alicia.

Emily dragged him into the restroom and slapped him hard across the face. Her eyes were bloodshot as she glared at him and spat, “I brought you here to socialize, not to daydream about your ugly, fat ex-wife.”

Ethan flinched, voice trembling. “Why don’t you believe me?”

She slapped him again. “Listen to yourself, Ethan. What kind of man are you? You’re here with your wife, but you’re fantasizing about another woman? I’ve never met a bolder, more shameless cheater in my life.”

Guilt tore across Ethan’s face, but the shock wouldn’t let go. Alicia—the woman he never thought he’d see again, the woman whose presence used to disgust him—was here. Not just here, but transformed, radiant, the most striking daughter of the Alexander family.

He could barely get the words out. “Believe me, Emily. That woman out there is Alicia.”

Emily’s temper snapped. “Have you lost your mind, Ethan? Why do you keep repeating that? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Ethan dropped his gaze, refusing to meet her eyes.

Emily paced, seething. Then she spun back to him. “We’re leaving. There’s no reason to stay if you can’t even focus on why we came.”

Ethan’s expression shifted in panic. “Why are we leaving now? We should be trying to expand our business—”

“How?” Emily shouted. “When all you can think about is your ex-wife? Everyone looks like her to you! You keep bringing up that fat Alicia—how do you expect us to achieve anything?”

Ethan stared at her, speechless.

“We’re going home. Now,” she said, enunciating each word.

She turned and headed for the door. When she didn’t hear him follow, she stopped and glanced back. Ethan was still rooted to the spot.

“Are you coming or not?” she asked, voice cold.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t move.

Her patience snapped. “Are you coming with me, or are you staying?”

Silence.

“You know what?” she said, voice shaking with fury. “My friends warned me what kind of piece of shit you are. I was stupidly in love with you, but you keep proving them right. Every damn time. If you stay here, just know this—I will never see you as the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

Ethan stiffened, fists clenching. “Darling, don’t think that way—”

But Emily was already pushing through the restroom door. She stormed out of the hall, crossed the lot without looking back, and got into her car.

Emily glanced at her phone, expecting Ethan to call. But Ethan, lingering nearby and searching for a chance to speak with Alicia, had no intention of doing so.

Emily’s face fell, her eyes blazing with fury. The longer she waited, the more humiliated and angry she felt. After several minutes, she started her car and drove out of Alexander’s mansion.

Inside, Ethan remained in the hall, watching as representatives from major brands approached Alicia with offers. She declined them all with grace, and the attention she drew only made him more uncomfortable.

Andy had gone off to speak with his uncle. Growing tired of the endless pitches, Alicia left the hall. Ethan immediately followed.

“Alicia,” he called as she stepped into the corridor.

His fists were clenched tight; he looked nervous and on edge.

Alicia didn’t slow. Her expression was composed, her emotions carefully veiled. Ethan refused to relent. Striding after her, he said with sudden confidence, “Everyone else might believe you’re Catherine, but I know who you are. You’re Alicia. You’re my wife—my wife.”

Alicia turned, arching a brow.

“You’re talking to me?” she asked calmly.

Up close, Ethan’s composure shattered. Though he had once sent her away, the love, the memories, the sacrifices Alicia had made for him had haunted him every day. The time they shared had taught him her worth, and he missed her terribly. Now, seeing her again, his eyes reddened.

“Alicia,” he said softly, voice thick with emotion.

She regarded him coolly. “Who are you?”

Ethan’s face drained. Panic flashed across his features. “Alicia, it’s me—your husband. Don’t you remember me? Did you lose your memory? Look at me. You remember who I am… right?”