Chapter 1

The glitter from our Las Vegas wedding still clung to my suitcase, unpacked in the corner of the hotel suite.

It was supposed to be our honeymoon, a quiet extension of the impulsive joy from two days ago.

Alex was in the shower.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, screen lighting up.

A message from Jessica.

My heart thumped, a dull, heavy beat.

Jessica Albright, his college girlfriend, the one his family always preferred.

I shouldn't look, I knew that.

But a cold dread, sharp and sudden, made my fingers move.

I picked up the phone. No passcode. He always was careless.

"Last night was incredible, Alex. Worth the wait. See you soon. J."

Last night.

The night before our wedding.

The air rushed out of my lungs.

The world tilted, colors blurring at the edges.

He' d slept with her. Then he' d married me.

I dropped the phone as if it burned.

When Alex came out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist, humming, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, perfectly still.

He smiled, "Morning, Mrs. Harrison. Ready for breakfast?"

I couldn't speak, couldn't meet his eyes.

He frowned, "Em? You okay? You look pale."

I managed a nod.

The next few hours were a blur. I moved like an automaton, packing, checking out.

On the flight back to San Francisco, I stared out the window, the city lights a distant, meaningless smear.

Alex tried to hold my hand, chattered about our new life, our condo, the future.

Each word was a fresh stab.

He noticed my silence, my withdrawal.

"Emily, what's wrong? Seriously, you're scaring me."

I just shook my head. How could I even begin?

Back in our shared condo, the one filled with our plans, our things, the lie of it all suffocated me.

The next morning, Alex was supposed to go to his family's office.

He kissed me goodbye, a strange tension in his eyes.

"We need to talk tonight, Em. Figure out what's bothering you."

An hour later, I got a call from his mother.

"Emily, dear, there's been an accident. A small one, a fender bender. Alex is at St. Luke's."

My blood ran cold. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine, mostly. Just a bump on the head. But Emily... he's a little confused."

Confused.

I rushed to the hospital.

Jessica Albright was already there, hovering over Alex's bed, her hand possessively on his arm.

Alex looked at me, his brow furrowed.

A polite, blank stare.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice flat. "Do I know you?"

Jessica squeezed his arm, a small, triumphant smile playing on her lips.

"The doctor said he has selective amnesia, dear," Mrs. Harrison explained, her tone dripping with false sympathy. "He seems to have forgotten certain... recent events."

Only me. He' d forgotten only me.

I looked at Alex, at the careful blankness in his eyes, the slight, almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw when he looked away from me towards Jessica.

He was faking it.

I knew, with a certainty that settled cold and hard in my stomach, he was faking it all.

This was his way out. His cowardly, cruel way out.

And I, Emily Carter, the successful event coordinator who planned every detail, had just become the star of a drama I never auditioned for.

Fine.

If he wanted to play a game, then we would play.