Why He Ourple

My billionaire husband suffered from chronic insomnia for years. Only the sleep balm I made could help him sleep. On the night of our seventh wedding anniversary, his childhood sweetheart poured a basin of scalding water over the old camphor tree in our garden. I wept and tried to save the tree as she apologized, “I didn’t know you used its leaves to make the sleep balm.” My husband gently comforted her and ordered his men to tie me to the tree trunk instead. “What a precious tree. You’ll spend the rest of your days with it!” With my wrist fractured as a result, I filed for divorce immediately. A month later, my husband was unable to sleep late one night. He stood in the garden and stared at the withered camphor tree.

He forgot their vows. She remembers every lie. After a brutal accident leaves Callum Thorne with no memory of his wife, Iris is forced to fight for a love that only she remembers. Trapped in the Thorne family estate, surrounded by people who want her gone, Iris is determined to win back the man she married—even if he’s no longer the man he was. But when fragments of the past start to resurface, Callum begins to suspect his accident wasn’t so accidental. The more he uncovers, the more he questions everything—especially the woman he’s drawn to but can’t trust. In a world of wealth, control, and buried secrets, love isn’t safe. And the truth might cost them both more than their marriage. Vows He Doesn’t Remember is a dark, gripping romance about memory, manipulation, and the fight to reclaim what’s real—before it's too late.

Inside the mediation room at the police station, my passenger looked disheveled with messy hair and rumpled clothes. She cried as she complained to the police officer, “Sir, it’s him! The Grab driver had bad intentions! He even tried to harass me! “People like him should be put in jail! And I want compensation for the emotional distress he caused me!” Right after she finished speaking, she slumped down on the floor and threw a tantrum. I could not believe someone could be this shameless. All I did was tell her not to smoke in the car, and she falsely accused me of harassing her. On top of it, I was a woman too! It was just that I usually dressed less femininely. How could I possibly have harassed her?

My girlfriend found out that my water bottle cost $30,000. She then demanded I buy her father an $8 million luxury apartment in the city center. I politely refused. She said furiously, “Don’t be so stingy! He’ll be your father-in-law someday. What’s wrong with getting a head start on being a good son-in-law?” She even compiled all of our expenses during our relationship into a PowerPoint presentation and demanded we split everything. “If splitting everything equally is too much trouble for you, then just cover it all. You can afford it! “My family and I have already discussed it. I’ll give you a one-dollar gift. It means you're my only one. How perfect is that?” When she noticed I was silent, she played her final card. “If you can’t agree, then let’s forget about getting married. “You’ll never see me, your darling baby, ever again!” I looked at the detailed list of expenses on the screen. It even included $2 she had spent on a bus ride to see me. I smiled and said, “Sure. I’ll give you a $143-million gift, with more romantic meaning. And I’ll buy that apartment for your father right now.”

Saphira is a beautiful woman with long, light blonde hair and blue-gray eyes, only 25 years old. She is simple and shy, but she is strong and decisive when it comes to work. A harassment situation at her company leads her to move from a small town in Texas to New York. She takes her little savings and CV and tries to get a job. Christopher is the CEO of a large advertising company. When Saphira starts working for him, he maintains his professionalism and detachment, but he can't help but appreciate the girl's beauty. He is always jumping from woman to woman, and his playboy fame is well known, so when he confesses his interest in her on a business trip, Saphira doesn't take him seriously and sets the professional barrier between them very high. Her coldness towards him stirs up the feeling that is born in his chest even more, but Saphira doesn't allow any approach, despite Christopher sometimes seeing in her eyes that the feeling is reciprocal. What would he have to do to conquer the girl who looked like "the girl next door" he's been looking for all his life? And why doesn't Saphira want to give him a chance? What dark secret keeps her away?

"I’m a good girl—until I got drunk in Vegas and married a panties-flaming-hot Irishman. Oops. I’ve always lived my life by the rules. Unlike my two sisters, I’m the good one. The responsible one. Going outside my comfort zone is when I wear red lipstick before five PM. That comfort zone of mine? It’s smashed to smithereens on a wild night in Las Vegas when I met—and married—Liam Gallagher. After one shot of tequila, then two, then too many to count, a good girl’s rules tend to disappear. And so do her panties, and her bra, and various other articles of clothing when she’s with an Irishman who knows his way around a woman’s body. Now my husband wants us to stay married. For six months. He says it’ll be worth my while. Considering our chemistry underneath the sheets, I can’t say that he’s wrong. Liam isn’t safe, though. Liam definitely isn’t comfortable. He’s like the male equivalent of wearing red lipstick in the daytime all wrapped up in an irresistible, dangerous package. Yet this stubborn Irishman isn’t about to let me go, drunken Princess Bride-themed Vegas wedding or no. Now I have to decide if I’m brave enough to break the rules for love."

I'm not only ugly, I'm an idiot. Because, tell me, why would I think that the hottest guy at school would be interested in me? To make it even worse, he was dating my sister. My sister was perfect. She was the golden daughter—perfect at everything, beautiful. So why would I, in my right mind, think that Damien Salvatore would be interested in an ugly duckling like me? That was my first mistake. *** I couldn't believe Damien had just said that to me. Damien wanted me.... Me!? Inner squeal. He cupped my face and kissed me fiercely, catching me by surprise. My body sprang to life, answering to the need in his kiss until it became more, heated, too much. I tore away from him, shaking my head, even as my body throbbed with desire. “Wait...” Why was I stopping this? Am I an idiot? I have dreamt About this since forever.... I have never wanted anything so bad in my life. "Don't you want to kiss me??" He rasped out.

"You were never her, Aria. You were just... there." Jason's words echo in my head as I stand in the back of the church, watching him mourn another woman on her sister's wedding day. Isabelle. The perfect dead girlfriend. The ghost I've been competing with for three years. I thought I could be enough. I thought love could grow where grief once lived. But when I find the evidence, when I see the hotel receipts, the text messages, the photos of Jason with Isabelle's sister Violet, I realize the truth. I was never the love story. I was the intermission. What I don't know yet is that nothing about my marriage was real. Not Jason's cruelty. Not Violet's affair. Not the stranger's rescue. They've all been playing a game, and I'm the prize they're willing to destroy each other for. When the truth comes out, when I discover why Isabelle really died and who's been pulling the strings, I'll have to decide: Do I let them destroy me, or do I burn their whole world down?

The men of his Pack never live past thirty. Only a union with my bloodline can break the curse. But on the day of our mating ceremony, he tore up our bond in front of everyone— just for his precious lover. In front of the entire Pack, he looked at me with nothing but disgust. “Elara, you’re nothing but a parasite. Your kind has been using black magic to deceive my Pack for generations. That ends with me.” His lover clung to his arm and laughed softly. “Why are you still standing here? Get out.” “With my knowledge, I can keep him alive far beyond thirty.” I looked at him. At the life-force already collapsing beneath his skin. A quiet laugh slipped from my throat. Fine. On his thirtieth birthday— we’ll see who’s right. Very soon.

My boyfriend, Jacob Torrance, claimed he hated being touched. Five years together, and all I got were stiff hand-holds and the rare side-hug. Even in bed, he kept his distance. I figured he was just emotionally shut off. Then he dropped this: he wanted a kid—with his mentor's daughter. "Take it as a sperm donation," he said. "Dr. Lynn asked me before he died. Wendy's got no one else." I smiled. "You don't have to explain. I support you." When you're over someone, there's no point fighting about what's right or wrong.