Fake Amnesia, Real Betrayal

Johan Gorski

LGBT+ | Completed

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The call came at 7:05 PM on our tenth wedding anniversary. My husband, David, was in an accident. At the hospital, he was awake, but a young woman, his assistant Chloe, was holding his hand, acting like his wife. When I walked in, he looked at me, a blank stranger' s stare, then asked, "Who are you?" He laughed when I said I was his wife, then demanded security remove me, while Chloe, smiling, pretended to cry. It wasn't just memory loss; it was a cruel, targeted erasure. I tried proof, the marriage certificate, but he pushed it away as "just a piece of paper." Then Chloe waltzed in with his favorite soup, and he defended her when I confronted her. "She' s the only one who' s been here for me!" he screamed. He snarled that I was "exhausted, haggard," compared to Chloe, who was "kind and gentle." My wedding ring, a symbol of our forever, flew from my hand as he slapped it away, clinking under the bed. "Don' t come back," he said, turning his back on me to comfort Chloe. Later, I learned why: he had been having an affair with Chloe, his mother's 65th birthday ruined by his absence and her answering his phone. My world shattered when Mark Johnson, David's estranged best friend, told me what David said: "The fake amnesia was a stroke of genius, right? A clean break." My husband had faked a brain injury to throw me away. A car hit me, sending me to the hospital, and I knew what I had to do. When Mark came in, I looked at him, my face blank, then asked, "Are you... my husband?"

Revenge Pregnancy Divorce Twins Second chance

Chapter 15

Yesterday 20:57

Introduction

The call came at 7:05 PM on our tenth wedding anniversary.

My husband, David, was in an accident.

At the hospital, he was awake, but a young woman, his assistant Chloe, was holding his hand, acting like his wife.

When I walked in, he looked at me, a blank stranger' s stare, then asked, "Who are you?"

He laughed when I said I was his wife, then demanded security remove me, while Chloe, smiling, pretended to cry.

It wasn't just memory loss; it was a cruel, targeted erasure.

I tried proof, the marriage certificate, but he pushed it away as "just a piece of paper."

Then Chloe waltzed in with his favorite soup, and he defended her when I confronted her.

"She' s the only one who' s been here for me!" he screamed.

He snarled that I was "exhausted, haggard," compared to Chloe, who was "kind and gentle."

My wedding ring, a symbol of our forever, flew from my hand as he slapped it away, clinking under the bed.

"Don' t come back," he said, turning his back on me to comfort Chloe.

Later, I learned why: he had been having an affair with Chloe, his mother's 65th birthday ruined by his absence and her answering his phone.

My world shattered when Mark Johnson, David's estranged best friend, told me what David said: "The fake amnesia was a stroke of genius, right? A clean break."

My husband had faked a brain injury to throw me away.

A car hit me, sending me to the hospital, and I knew what I had to do.

When Mark came in, I looked at him, my face blank, then asked, "Are you... my husband?"