The world tilted, and then went black for a second.
I came to with Jess screaming my name after a cyclist hit me, and I pulled her to safety.
At the hospital, with a mild concussion, I had a stupid idea: I' d pretend I had amnesia and ask Jess, "Who are you?"
Her eyes widened, but then a strange, unreadable expression flickered across her face.
With a voice suddenly too sweet, she leaned in and said, "Oh, Ethan, you don' t remember me? I' m Jessica, and Chloe is actually your fiancée. We were just out as friends."
My mind went blank, not from the concussion, but from genuine shock.
Chloe? Her best friend Chloe?
Jess was selling it hard, claiming I'd been "confused" even before the accident and that Chloe was my true love.
This wasn' t funny anymore; a cold feeling started in my stomach.
She insisted Chloe take me home, citing that familiarity would aid my "recovery."
As I lay in Chloe' s unfamiliar bed, the scent of vanilla filling the air, I realized Jess wasn't just playing along; she was hijacking my prank for her own twisted agenda.
Then, I overheard her on the phone: she called me "boring" and "clingy," bragging about using Chloe as a "break" so she could see her old flame, Mark.
The raw ache in my chest had nothing to do with the concussion; it was the sting of deliberate, cruel dismissal.
My fiancée was throwing me away, deliberately and publicly, to pursue someone else.
Why was Chloe, this quiet, uncomfortable stranger, going along with Jess' s insane scheme?
My anger hardened, but so did a new resolve: if Jess wanted a break, she' d get one, but it would be entirely on my terms.
I would expose her lies, one "amnesiac" step at a time.