His Secret Wife, His Public Shame

who was threatening suicide. She was Evelin Bennett, a

two years, Ben, a kind construction worker I'd found after an accident left him with amnesia. Except i

gan walked in, dressed in a su

I didn't exist and wrapp

me deep, soothing tone he used on me after a ba

act promise to me a

or an audience of one: me. He was showing me that our entire marria

the room, his cold eyes

ear: You are a pro

pte

ound of a woman screaming. It wasn't the sound of pain, but of

ent of antiseptic and old paper a strange con

colleague, Sarah, who was nerv

she whispered, her eyes wi

d of glass shattering against a

kill myself bef

tood on a chair, holding a shard of a broken vase to her own throat. Her face was tear-streaked,

iles, said, rushing over to me. He l

n influencer. Her people called. They said she'd only t

vaguely familiar from magazin

cé," Dr. Miles added, his voice low

art s

ard

ker. He's simple, kind, and loves me more than anything

ogan is a common name. Bernar

old feeling spreading through my chest. It was

nto my hands. "Here's her

. Under "Fiancé's Name," it was printed

throat. I felt the bl

st. I handle crises. I took a deep breath, smoothed

en though my insides were screaming

look in her eyes softened into a childish vulnerability. S

r. She rushed towards me and threw her arms around my

e a child, her whole demeanor screaming of a l

ith the back of her hand. "It's Ber

across the screen. "Look," she said, holding

n a perfectly tailored suit. He was smiling, his eye

as m

nding in front of a skyscraper with the

rength. "For my last birthday, he bought me a private islan

axis. The floor felt like it

Ever since he came back. He was missing for a while, you know. Two years. He had some ki

ye

of time I'd bee

hysical blow. It knocked the air from

an, the ruthless real estate tycoon. And I was th

d in my mind, s

y way home from a late session when I saw it. I pulled over, my heart pounding. I found him u

I drove him to the nearest small-town clinic. The diagnosi

ld in a man's body, lost and scared. I felt a surge of compassion for him.

ook hi

was my father's na

n me, so grateful. His eyes followed me everywhere. He learned everything anew,

w. Without the weight of a past, he was pure affection.

te, proud to come home with his hands calloused and dirty, earning m

his sun, his moon, his entire sky. He said that even if he never g

just a small, smooth stone he'd found by the river. He got down

otion. "I don't have a past, but I know I wan

hout a second

e courthouse. Just us. It was

le joys. We didn't have much money, but we had each other

y for a "job." He was vague about it, said it was a big c

e was more reserved, less physically affectionate. He stopped calling

was his memory returning. It was him returni

just a temporary stop along the

as a distant buzz. All I could feel was t

yed. She poked my arm. "Your eyes are all red. Are yo

absurdly ironic,

to the consultati

eli

hat probably cost more than my car. He looked powerful, commanding, an

w a flicker of shock, of recognition. Then

a look; it was a warning. A sile

xist and wrapped his arms around E

g into his embrace. "You too

eep, soothing tone he used to use on me when I had

eart. He'd made that exact prom

head. "I love you,

to watch. My eyes burned, but

nce for an audience of one: me. He was showing

ure. As he walked out, his cold eyes met mine one last time over h

re gone. The room was silent again, excep

I picked up my phone. My hands were shaking

acts until I found a numbe

mot

son? Is that you, darling?" Her voice w

voice a choked whisp

etie. Anything.

te. I want to come to y

ut what about your hu

itter, painful laugh escaped

y to leave the clinic and never com

oked

ard. He had

said, his voice low an