The Forgotten Past, The Found Self

the preliminary paperwork drawn up by the next day. I hung up the phone feeling a sense of purpose I hadn't known just hours before. This amnesia

ake me to the address listed as "Home." As I got in, I started searching for flights out of the

the hospital wristband still on my

st n

around here. Though, I hear he's a cold one. My buddy used to drive for him. Said the m

talking about me, the "real wife" who got nothing. It didn't sting. It was just a fact

tiful and imposing, but it felt cold, like a museum, not a home. The driver let me

s that a married couple lived here. It was Liam's house, not ours. I wandered through the rooms, a ghost in a life that was supposed to be mine. In the master bedroom, th

woman who must have stood in this room, hopin

d it. A leather-bound journal. My name, Olivia Reynolds, wa

ecognized it instinctively. T

perfume. He didn't even look at me. He just went into the guest

should be more understanding of Liam. They said Scarlet

this big, empty house alone. I painted a portrait of him, hoping he might like it. When he

's Day. He bought Scarlett a diamond n

ut how I had learned to cook his favorite meals, how I studied business to have something to talk to him a

s from the day be

had never met me. He said Scarlett is the only one who matters. I don't know how muc

ly who had abandoned me. They were for the woman who wrote these words. The Olivia who had loved

t of my former self. "I will not let you down," I whispered into the empty room.

lothes or jewelry. I packed my sketchbooks, my paints, and a few simple

nline and booked it for a month. It wa

ang. The caller ID said "Mom." I he

t's birthday party is tomorrow night at the Sterling estate. Liam is ho

arlett. Hosted by my husband. And I was being ordered to attend. T

sn't her