Chapter 1

"Elena, when did you become such a good actress?" the man asked, his gaze cold and piercing.

I could hear his words, but they didn't make sense to me. I tried to steer the conversation back. "Signore, are you ready to order?"

He ignored the question and continued with his strange accusations. "Since when do you step foot in a kitchen or do chores? You actually enjoy this kind of grunt work now?"

Was that true? I had no memory of it.

All I knew was that I had to show up here every day to keep a roof over my head.

"I'm sorry, Signore. I'm not sure I follow."

The woman beside him let out a cold laugh and leaned into his arm. "Nico, look at her playing the victim. What a performance. She didn't look this pathetic three years ago when she pushed you into the ocean."

I watched the expression of the man named Nico darken instantly.

Feeling a flicker of fear, I quickly held out the menus and readied my pen and notepad. "Perhaps you'd like to see the menu first."

Nico didn't even look at it. "Fettuccine carbonara, a Margherita pizza, Florentine steak, and tiramisu."

I scribbled the items down.

The woman took her time flipping through the pages, eventually rattling off several appetizers.

I struggled to keep up with her pace, and my handwriting became a messy scrawl.

"Did you get all that?" she asked, looking up. "What was the third dish I mentioned?"

I looked down at my notepad. I could only make out the first few letters of the third item. The rest was a blur.

"I'm sorry. I missed that one. Could you repeat it for me?"

She burst out laughing, though her eyes remained icy. "Nico, look at her. She can't even take an order, yet she's pretending to be a waitress. She's obviously faking it to get you to soften up and forgive her."

Just then, the bell rang at the kitchen window.

I instinctively glanced at the chalkboard hanging next to the station and stared at it for a long moment.

Nico seemed to notice the chalkboard and realized this restaurant wasn't like the others.

"Why are you looking at that board?" he asked.

"If I don't, I won't remember what I'm supposed to do."

The woman tilted her head at me, then burst into another round of mocking laughter. "Elena, of everyone I know, you had the best memory. You knew every single member of my family by heart."

Her voice was sweet. "What's with you now? Pretending you've lost your memory? You're quite convincing. I think you should quit being a waitress and be an actress instead."

"I—"

Nico cut me off harshly. "Elena, don't think for a second that playing the victim will make me forget what you did. It won't work!"

The woman gripped his hand. "Elena, Nico is my fiancé now. I'm warning you—don't have any ideas about him."

Seeing their fingers intertwined, I felt a sharp, inexplicable pang in my chest. Nevertheless, I maintained a polite smile. "The two of you make a lovely couple. My best wishes."

Nico was livid. "Elena, what the hell am I to you?"

The wine glass in his hand shattered, sending shards flying toward my ankles.

Fortunately, the restaurant was empty. I immediately knelt to pick up the glass.

As I reached for a fragment, I sliced my finger. Nico grabbed my wrist, stopping me. "Answer me!"

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out automatically. The screen lit up, displaying my memo app.

The first pinned note read, "You have a boyfriend. His name is Niccolo. Never forget him. He's the love of your life."

"I'm sorry, but I already have a boyfriend."

I watched the color drain from Nico's face before he forced out three words, "Who is he?"

"I only remember that I call him Niccolo."

He fell silent for a moment.

The next second, he stood and stormed out.

The woman shot me a venomous look. "You did that on purpose, didn't you, you bitch?"

With that, she chased after him.

I watched them disappear into the distance, then opened my memo app to add a new entry.

"Two customers came in today who seemed to know me. The man is named Nico, and the woman said she's his fiancée."