Erased Memories, A Second Chance At Love

They found me days after the avalanche, a bloody canvas against the stark white snow. When my fiancé, Gabriel, finally arrived, I thought I was saved.

But he wasn't there to rescue me; he was there to blame me. His mistress, Candace, clung to his arm with a tiny scratch while my leg was a mangled, frostbitten wreck.

"What in God's name did you do?" he spat, his voice like ice.

Back at the hospital, Candace and her therapist brother convinced him my injuries were minor. They secretly withheld my treatment, laughing at my silent agony while Gabriel accused me of faking it all for attention.

He called off our engagement, reminding me I was just a burden he was forced to care for after my parents died saving his family. His disgust and her lies finally broke me.

So I made a deal with a goddess. I threw myself from the hospital balcony, trading my love and all my memories of him for a new life.

When I opened my eyes again, the man who had destroyed me was a complete stranger.

Chapter 1

Briana Bond POV:

They found me days later, a bloody canvas against the stark white snow, but the man who rushed to me wasn't there to rescue; he was there to blame.

The helicopter blades roared overhead, churning the already biting wind into a furious gale. My body was a screaming protest, every nerve ending ablaze with pain. I barely registered the faces of the rescue team, their movements a blur through the haze of agony and exhaustion. All I knew was the cold seeping into my bones, a cold that had been my only companion for what felt like an eternity.

Then, a familiar silhouette detached itself from the storm-tossed chaos. Gabriel. He moved with the desperate urgency of a man who had lost something precious. My heart, a bruised and battered thing, fluttered with a faint, foolish hope. He was here. He found me.

But the hope died a swift, brutal death when I saw her. Candace. She clung to his arm, a picture of delicate fragility against the harsh backdrop of the mountain. Her head was bandaged, just a small, neat white patch. A stark contrast to the mangled mess that was my leg. The blood on her bandage was probably just a smudge. The blood on my leg had stained the pristine snow crimson for miles.

Gabriel' s eyes, usually a calm, intelligent stormy grey, were now alight with a chilling fury. He didn' t reach for me. He didn' t even see me, not really. He saw an inconvenience, a problem, a source of endless trouble. His gaze flickered to Candace, then back to my prone, broken form, and his face twisted into a mask of disgust.

"Briana," he bit out, his voice sharp against the howl of the wind. "What in God's name did you do?"

My mind, dulled by pain, struggled to form a coherent thought. I blinked, trying to clear the ice from my vision. He knelt beside me, not with tenderness, but with a harsh, demanding posture.

"Always causing a scene, aren't you?" he spat, his words like sharp icicles. "Do you have any idea the resources, the days we've wasted looking for you? The entire rescue team, up against a blizzard, all because you can' t just stay put."

Stay put? My lips felt cracked and useless, but a bitter laugh threatened to escape. Stay put where? In the snow, waiting for the wolves? Waiting for my blood to freeze solid in my veins?

"Why can't you just be normal?" he raged, his voice loud enough to carry over the rotor wash. "Why do you always have to make things so difficult?"

The winter air bit hard, a constant reminder of the long nights I' d spent curled beneath a meager cover of snow, listening to the predatory snuffles and howls in the darkness. I had stayed put, at first. Frozen with terror, believing he would come, that he would be my hero. That was my original mistake.

But the nights dragged on, endless and stark. The cold was a living entity, gnawing at my fingers and toes. My meager rations of dried fruit had vanished on the third day. Hunger, a dull ache that turned into a consuming fire, compelled me to move. I crawled, then stumbled, through the deep snow, searching for anything edible. My leg, already protesting from the fall, met a jagged tree branch hidden beneath the snow. It tore through my flesh, a searing pain that made me scream until my throat was raw. Blood gushed, painting the snow a horrifying red. I remember thinking, this is it. This is how I die.

Days blurred into a single, agonizing smear. The hope I clung to, the image of Gabriel coming for me, had slowly, painfully, withered away. It was replaced by a cold, hard resolve: survive. Just survive.

Now, lying here, the accusations rained down on me, heavy as stones. I simply lowered my head. What was the point? He had always viewed me through a distorted lens, a troublesome orphan, an unwanted burden. My protests, my explanations, had always been met with dismissal, with that same infuriating, unshakeable belief that I was inherently flawed.

"Unbelievable," a new, hushed voice murmured. It was one of the younger rescue workers, his face pale with concern as he looked at my frostbitten leg. "The conditions out here are brutal. How did she even survive?"

Candace, still clinging to Gabriel, let out a soft gasp. "Oh, is she... one of your new employees, Gabriel? I didn't recognize her." Her tone was laced with feigned innocence, a subtle poison.

The young worker, visibly uncomfortable, stammered, "No, ma'am. I'm new myself. I just meant-"

"I see," Candace interrupted smoothly, her gaze flickering to me, a predatory glint in her eyes. "Perhaps she was trying to charm you with her... enthusiasm."

Gabriel' s face darkened, a storm brewing in his eyes. He turned on the poor worker. "You're fired," he barked, his voice devoid of any warmth. "Get out of my sight. And anyone else who thinks my fiancée's antics are something to discuss, remember this moment."

The remaining crew stiffened, their faces shuttered with fear. They averted their gaze, shrinking back as if afraid to breathe. Candace then moved towards me, a picture of false sympathy. She extended a delicate hand, adorned with perfectly manicured nails, as if to help me. I watched her, a hollow ache in my chest.

"Gabriel," she demurred softly, her voice a soothing balm. "Don't be too hard on her. I'm sure she didn't mean to cause so much trouble. She probably just got lost." She shot me a quick, veiled look, a silent warning. "Let's just get her back to the city. This cold is terrible for her wounds, and for my arm."

Gabriel' s gaze, which had softened slightly at Candace' s 'defense' of me, hardened again. His voice dropped to a cold, dangerous whisper. "You will be punished for this, Briana. Severely." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "The engagement party is off. Indefinitely."

My breath hitched. The engagement party. The last thread of hope I unconsciously clung to. He was cutting it. He was cutting me loose. "You were reckless, roaming around the restricted area," he continued, his voice echoing with finality. "But I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. After all, a debt of gratitude is the only thing keeping you here."

The helicopter lifted, leaving me, once again, in a state of suspended agony.

Briana Bond POV:

A debt of gratitude. His words, sharp and cold, echoed the truth I had always lived by. My parents, heroic firefighters, had died in a blazing inferno years ago, saving his family, the Paynes. They had perished, leaving me an orphan, utterly alone in the world. After their death, my greedy relatives had swooped in like vultures, tearing apart what little my parents had left, leaving me with nothing but a hollow ache in my chest.

It was Emmanuel Robbins, Gabriel' s wise old mentor and a dear friend of my father, who took pity on me. He took me in, brought me into the Payne household, a world of unimaginable wealth and privilege. To ensure my security, to protect me from further exploitation, he arranged my engagement to Gabriel. It was a formal arrangement, a shield.

And so, Gabriel and I became a unit, entwined by a sense of duty and the silent weight of a life debt. He was the golden boy, the brilliant CEO, adored by everyone. I was the quiet, often overlooked girl, constantly reminded of the chasm between us. I had spent years trying to bridge that gap, desperately clinging to him. I had cried, I had thrown tantrums, I had even threatened to leave, all to get his attention, to make him see me. I had chased away every woman who dared to get close, earning myself a reputation as a possessive, clingy nightmare. My social media was a shrine to him, a constant proclamation of our supposed love. Anything to feel like I belonged. Anything to make him truly mine.

But now, looking up at him, his face a mask of anger and disgust, I was done. The fight had drained out of me, replaced by a profound, chilling emptiness. I simply nodded, my gaze fixed on the dirty floor of the helicopter.

Gabriel paused, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He must have expected a fight, tears, a desperate plea. He was used to my dramatics. He was used to me screaming and clinging, demanding his attention.

His anger seemed to deflate slightly, replaced by a strange, unsettling confusion. He narrowed his eyes, searching my face. "You're not going to fight me on this?" he asked, his voice softer, almost a challenge. "No tears? No threats?" He was giving me an out, a chance to play the role he expected. He was still waiting for the old Briana.

But the old Briana was gone, buried somewhere in the frozen wasteland I had just escaped.

I cut him off before he could finish. "There's nothing to fight for, Gabriel," I said, my voice barely a whisper, yet steady. A faint, sad smile touched my lips. "I understand. I won't be the bride at that wedding." My gaze drifted to the snowy peaks outside. In a few days, I'll forget everything. I'll start fresh.

The rescue workers finished securing me to the stretcher. My leg. They finally peeled back the layers of makeshift bandages and frozen fabric. "Severe frostbite," one of them muttered, his voice grim. "And... good God."

My leg. It was a raw, festering wound where the tree branch had pierced through. The bone beneath was a sickening shade of purple, visible through the torn flesh. I remembered the agonizing trek through the deep snow, the constant fear of the wild beasts whose howls had been my lullaby. I couldn't stop, couldn't rest. I had to keep moving, or they would find me. And then I fell. The branch. The agonizing, blinding pain. The blood, hot at first, then chillingly cold, painting the snow a vibrant, terrifying red. I had thought that was the end. That I would bleed out and die in that desolate wilderness.

The bitter irony was that the blood trail, my very demise, was what eventually led them to me. The wound was a gaping maw, raw and infected, a testament to the brutal days and nights.

Gabriel stiffened, his eyes wide with a fleeting horror as he glanced at my leg. A flicker of something, fear? Concern? It crossed his face before hardening again. "How bad is it?" he demanded of the medic, his voice tight.

The medic shook his head slowly. "It's... extensive. We won't know the full extent until we get her to a proper hospital. Infection is a serious concern."

"Does it hurt?" Gabriel asked me directly, his voice surprisingly gentle. He reached out, his fingers brushing against my numb hand, a warmth I hadn't felt in days.

Just then, a soft, pathetic whimper escaped Candace. "Oh, my arm," she murmured, clutching her bandaged shoulder. "It's just throbbing so badly."

Gabriel's hand dropped my numb fingers as if I were fire. His attention snapped back to Candace, his face etched with immediate concern. He pulled her gently into his embrace, his brow furrowed with worry.

"It's nothing, Gabriel," she whispered, her voice laced with a brave, suffering tone, though no tears actually fell. "You should focus on Briana. She needs you more."

He sighed, a deep, exasperated sound, but his gaze remained fixed on Candace. He gently massaged her shoulder, his touch light and tender. He didn't spare me another glance. He didn't even see the fresh tears freezing on my cheeks.

He picked Candace up, cradling her gently in his arms, and carried her towards the waiting helicopter. I watched him go, a fresh wave of despair washing over me. The stretcher I was on jostled, nearly sending me tumbling. My hand scraped against the metal, a fresh sting, a thin line of blood blooming on my palm. It wasn't the cold, or the hunger, or the injured leg that brought the true pain. It was this. This utter, complete abandonment.

Briana Bond POV:

They rushed me to the nearest small-town hospital, a place that felt miles away from the modern, gleaming facilities I was used to. The doctor, a kind-faced man with tired eyes, examined my leg with a somber expression. His words, when they came, were a death knell to any lingering hope.

"The frostbite is severe, Briana," he said gently, his voice heavy with regret. "The infection has spread deep into the tissue. We have to amputate."

My world tilted. Amputate? My leg? My mind reeled. "If we don't," he continued, "the infection will only worsen, and you could lose the entire limb, or worse, your life. Your digestive system is also severely compromised from the prolonged starvation. It will be a long, difficult road to recovery, even if we proceed with the surgery."

Gabriel, who had been pacing impatiently, stopped dead. "Amputate?" he roared, his voice splitting the quiet room. He kicked over a nearby chair with a violent crash. "What kind of quack are you? There has to be another way!"

Candace glided to his side, her hand resting gently on his arm. "Gabriel, darling, please calm down," she murmured, her voice a soothing, deceptive purr. "He's just a small-town doctor. Perhaps his skills aren't... up to par. My brother, Cory, he's a top physical therapist in the capital. He could recommend the best specialists. We should take Briana back to the city."

Gabriel, still seething, seemed to consider her words. His anger, though still present, began to cool slightly under her influence. "Fine," he bit out, his jaw tight. "Get her ready. I don't care what it costs; I want the best doctors, the best treatment. She will not lose her leg."

The journey back to the city was a blur of pain, fear, and a dull, growing resentment. I barely registered the transfer, the new hospital, the gleaming halls. All I knew was the persistent ache, the throbbing in my leg, and the cold dread in my heart.

Cory Coleman, Candace' s brother, was indeed a renowned physical therapist in the capital. He entered my room with an air of arrogant confidence, a stark contrast to the small-town doctor' s genuine concern. He barely glanced at my leg, his eyes dismissive, a sneer playing on his lips. "This? This is nothing," he declared, his voice dripping with condescension. "A few scrapes, a little frostbite. Nothing a bit of rest and some cream won't fix." He scoffed at the idea of internal organ damage. "Just malnourished, trying to garner sympathy, aren't we?" he added, his gaze flicking to Gabriel, a silent accusation hanging in the air.

Gabriel hesitated, a frown creasing his brow. He remembered the gruesome sight of my mangled leg, the deep gash, the purple bone. It didn't look like "a few scrapes." But Candace was there, her hand slipping into his, her touch soft and reassuring.

"Gabriel, don't worry," she cooed, her voice sweet as honey. "Cory is the best. He knows what he's talking about." She turned to her brother, her eyes flashing briefly with a triumphant glint. "But darling, you must protect Gabriel too. He's been so worried about my drawing hand."

Cory, catching his sister's cue, immediately launched into a tirade. "You, Gabriel, should have protected Candace better! Her hands are precious. They're her livelihood, her art!" He dramatized the importance of her 'delicate' hands, hinting at irreparable damage.

Candace then played her part to perfection. "Oh, it wasn't Briana's fault, Cory! I'm sure she didn't mean to hurt me." She looked at Gabriel, her eyes wide and mournful. "As long as you're here, Gabriel, I'll be fine, even if I can never draw again."

Gabriel's attention was immediately snared. He squeezed her hand, his face filled with tenderness. "You will draw again, Candace," he vowed, his voice firm. "I promise you."

The brother-sister duo had executed their play flawlessly, diverting Gabriel's attention entirely from my critical condition to Candace's minor, self-inflicted injuries. I watched them, a dull, familiar ache spreading through my chest. This dance, this manipulation, I knew it all too well.

It played out in my mind again, the memory so vivid it was like a fresh wound. The yacht party, the sudden storm. We were arguing, a familiar pattern. She hated me, hated my presence in Gabriel's life. "You think you belong here?" she'd hissed, her face contorted with jealousy. "You're nothing but a charity case!"

Then came the lurch, the sudden terrifying tilt of the yacht. In a flash, she lunged, her hands pushing hard against my chest. I lost my footing, stumbled, and went sprawling over the railing. But not before a desperate, instinctual grab. My hand shot out, catching her arm, pulling her down with me. Her eyes widened in shock, a gasp escaping her lips as her arms twisted at an unnatural angle. A sickening crack echoed even over the wind and waves. She went down, but I went over. Tumbling into the icy abyss.

As I plummeted, my body striking the churning waves, the last thing I heard was her voice, shrill and venomous. "Die, Briana! Die on this godforsaken mountain!" She knew about the wild animals, the treacherous conditions. She wanted me gone, swallowed by the storm. I hit a rock, a blinding white-hot pain exploding in my leg. My body was a crumpled heap against the jagged, icy shore. I tried to move, but I couldn' t. My broken body was useless.