Faking Amnesia For A New Life

I lost my memory. Or rather, I faked it.

Conrad Gallagher, the boyfriend I had been secretly dating for five years, effortlessly erased our entire relationship.

"You're only fit to be a casual hookup."

Then, he announced his engagement to a woman approved by his parents.

To save myself from utter humiliation, I faked amnesia, conveniently forgetting no one but Conrad.

But when it was time for me to get married, Conrad regretted it. He kidnapped me right out of my wedding and spirited me away: "Don't marry him, okay?"

Chapter 1

Aurora's POV

Inside the ballroom of the Omni Parker House, I ran into him again.

Conrad.

I drew in a sharp breath, the champagne flute trembling slightly in my grip.

It had been two months since the accident, two months since I had last seen his face, and two months since I had made the conscious decision to scrub him from my memory entirely.

Now, catching sight of him in the bustling crowd, he was impossible to ignore.

Impeccably dressed as always, his dark suit was tailored to perfection. His undeniable charm acted like a gravitational pull, drawing people toward him. My heart pounded, slamming violently against my ribs.

Conrad's gaze landed on me. His confident stride faltered for a fraction of a second before he changed direction, heading straight for me. Every step he took was heavy and deliberate, like fate itself closing in.

"Aurora," he said.

I turned my head slowly, meeting his gaze with a blank, uncomprehending stare. "Excuse me, do you know me?"

His eyes flicked from my face, dropping to the neckline of my dress, then sweeping all the way down to my legs. That familiar possessiveness gave me goosebumps.

In the past, whenever he thought no one was watching-whenever he felt I was his exclusive plaything-he would always look at me like that.

Conrad glanced around, his eyes darting quickly over the curious faces nearby.

He had always been hyper-aware of his public image, always needing to maintain control. He noticed the subtle stares and caught the faint whispers drifting from the edges of the conversation.

Without a word, he shrugged off his expensive wool overcoat and draped it over my bare shoulders.

His hand gripped my arm tightly, pulling me into his personal space.

"Aurora, drop the act. You haven't contacted me for two months. Are you really that mad?" He leaned in, his lips practically brushing my ear. "Are we going to my condo or your hotel today? You choose."

I struggled to pull away from his grasp, but his hand held me in an iron grip, refusing to budge.

I finally looked up at him. "Sir, please maintain a polite distance. I don't like being touched without permission."

He narrowed his eyes, a dangerous glint flashing in their depths.

His charming veneer cracked, revealing a flash of irritation.

"Aurora Buchanan," he began, his tone laced with a distinct warning. He only ever used my full name when anger was boiling just beneath his surface.

Before, whenever he used that tone, I would immediately shrink back, apologize, and try to smooth things over.

For five years, I had walked on eggshells, tailoring my reactions to his moods, desperately trying to keep him.

But that Aurora was gone.

I kept my face arranged in an innocent, bewildered expression. The performance was flawless. "Sir, do I know you? I'm terribly sorry, but my memory isn't what it used to be."

Conrad let out an impatient sigh, his voice thick with annoyance. He waved a hand dismissively, brushing off my words. "Stop it, Aurora. This isn't like you. You're being dramatic."

That familiar disdain and casual belittlement pricked at me like a needle.

A sharp sting of pain welled up in my chest.

Bitter memories flashed through my mind: the explosive arguments, him constantly calling me "overreactive" or "too emotional," and his claims that our five-year relationship was "just for convenience."

"Aurora? Is everything alright?" Elliot's calm, warm voice shattered the suffocating tension.

He appeared at my side, bringing with him a grounding, reassuring presence.

He stepped between us, his posture a silent shield. He rested a hand gently on the small of my back, a quiet promise of protection.

"Conrad," Elliot said, his tone even but edged with frost. "Are you aware that my fiancée, Aurora, was in a severe car accident a few months ago? Her memory has been spotty ever since. It's been a tough road to recovery."

"Fiancée?" Conrad repeated.

Elliot continued in the same steady voice: "She might not recognize a lot of people she knew before the crash, even some close acquaintances."

Conrad's usually supremely confident eyes narrowed into slits. A flicker of genuine shock crossed his face, quickly followed by suspicion. "Amnesia?"

He wasn't asking about my well-being or my recovery.

He only wanted to know if he had been erased.

I hadn't forgotten him. I chose to forget him.

It was the only way I could escape the suffocating shame of being nothing more than a "plaything."

For five years, I had been his dirty little secret, only to be tossed aside and replaced by someone more "suitable." How else was I supposed to face my family and friends?

Amnesia was a blank slate, giving me the chance to rebuild everything.

The doctors had even mentioned the possibility of post-traumatic amnesia; it made my story all the more believable.

I knew he would look into it. Of course he would. Conrad always did.

I shifted slightly, stepping around Elliot, deliberately putting on a bewildered and visibly confused expression. "Sir," I said softly, "you mentioned earlier... were we close?"

"Because my parents never mentioned you."

Aurora's POV

My carefully chosen words were meant to sting, to remind him of the secret life he had forced upon me, of how he had kept me hidden away for years.

I knew Conrad. His ego was massive. Being forgotten-or worse, reduced to a mere acquaintance-would eat him alive.

My mind instantly flashed back to the five years I had dedicated to him, years spent chasing his fleeting affections, convinced that one day he would notice me and truly fall in love with me.

Love at first sight, a grueling pursuit, and countless late-night calls and secret dates later, we had finally established a relationship.

For five years, we did everything lovers do, to the absolute fullest.

I always believed that, one day, we would step out into the light.

I was ready to take the next step, ready for us to go public.

But Conrad's reaction caught me entirely off guard.

He said, "Aurora, if there's been some misunderstanding, I'm sorry. You're just my plaything. Someone convenient for me to pass the time with, someone who won't complicate my life."

There was a cruelty in his casual words, piercing me like a jagged blade.

He even apologized for my "misunderstanding," as if my five years of devotion, my dreams, my very existence, meant absolutely nothing.

"Aurora, I'm sorry if you misunderstood our arrangement. I thought we were clear."

Then came the final blow.

He unapologetically announced that he was preparing to get engaged to someone his parents approved of. Someone from a prestigious family who could elevate his public image.

"You were never the type I'd consider for a serious relationship. You were just... a distraction."

Fury, cold and razor-sharp, blazed in my chest.

Five years. Five years of my life, my love, my unwavering loyalty.

Was I really going to be tossed aside this easily?

Was I really that cheap?

If he never intended to marry me, why did he accept my confession in the first place?

That day, I chose to break up. I ended the relationship right then and there. "Conrad, we're done."

I packed my bags with trembling hands. I got into my car, the light and shadows of the Pacific Coast Highway blurring together. Tears spilled over, clouding my vision.

The next moment, I heard the screech of tires, the crunch of tearing metal, and then-darkness.

Back in the hotel ballroom, Conrad stared at me, his expression unreadable.

The weight of his gaze was immense, practically suffocating me. My hands, hidden behind Elliot, trembled slightly, but I forced myself to remain composed.

Finally, he gave a stiff, barely perceptible nod.

He forced a tight, artificial smile onto his lips. "My apologies, Aurora. I must have been mistaken. We were... just acquaintances. Old friends, perhaps."

I feigned a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness! I was worried for a second there that you were going to tell me we had some sort of scandalous, secret affair!"

I leaned into Elliot, wrapping my arm around his waist and lacing my fingers with his.

I looked up at Elliot, flashing a playful smile, and winked. "Darling, tell him he's not my type."

Elliot looked at Conrad. "Aurora is far too kind and genuine to engage in anything less than a pure relationship."

Conrad's gaze, which had been fixated on the hand Elliot had resting on my waist, suddenly turned razor-sharp.

His eyes snapped to my left hand, specifically to the sparkling engagement ring on my finger. The diamond caught the light, dazzling and bright.

"When..." he asked quietly, his tone clipped and laced with disbelief, "are you two planning to get married?"

Elliot smiled faintly. "Yes, we're engaged. Aurora and I are tying the knot next month. It will be a small ceremony, just close family and friends. Though, if you'd like to witness true happiness, you're welcome to come."

Conrad's eyes remained locked on me, a storm seeming to brew in their depths.

I knew him too well. Right now, he was on the verge of losing control.

I figured it was just male possessiveness acting up.

After all, in his eyes, I was just a "convenient hookup." A cheap, on-call bedmate.

He would get over it soon enough.

I turned to Conrad, my tone light and innocent. "Well, that settles it! Whatever you thought we were, it doesn't matter now-acquaintances or old friends. I mean, I can't even remember it anyway. So, it's all in the past!"

I paused, then added, "It's a shame, really. I always thought I had good taste in friends."

Conrad clenched his jaw, the faint grinding of his teeth audible even over the din of the banquet.

It was all in the past.

This was the exact outcome I wanted.

For a fleeting moment, bitterness washed over me like a tidal wave.

Five years. Five years of my life, my love, my vulnerability, all down the drain.

But I realized that true revenge wasn't about inflicting pain; it was about finding inner peace, about reclaiming myself.

Faking this amnesia was my path to healing.

Elliot nodded, his eyes lingering on Conrad for a second before turning to me. "Of course, darling."

I started to turn away, my hand still tightly holding Elliot's, ready to leave. I felt a rush of triumph, a bittersweet victory.

"Aurora." Conrad's voice.

I turned back to him, raising an eyebrow. "Yes?"

His eyes were a turbulent storm of conflicting emotions: anger, confusion, and a hint of desperation.

"What if," he said in a low voice, "what if I told you that everything you think you've forgotten... isn't actually what it seems?"

Aurora's POV

I knew he wouldn't easily buy my amnesia act, but I hadn't expected him to be so blunt.

I put on a mask of polite confusion.

"I'm afraid I don't quite follow, Mr. Gallagher," I replied, my tone perfectly even. "My doctors have been very clear about my condition. Perhaps you're confusing me with someone else?"

I gently tugged on Elliot's arm. "Elliot, I really need to step away for a moment. This conversation is getting a bit... confusing."

Elliot offered a polite, somewhat stiff nod. "Conrad, if you'll excuse us. Aurora needs to rest."

Hand on my back, he guided me away, weaving through the thinning crowd. I could feel the heat of Conrad's stare burning into my back the entire way.

As we walked, we cast a stealthy glance over our shoulders.

Conrad was still standing there, watching us, his dark, commanding figure standing out starkly against the glittering backdrop of the ballroom.

"Hurry, Elliot," I whispered.

"Copy that." Elliot picked up the pace, leading me down a secluded corridor toward a private lounge.

He pulled the heavy double doors shut behind him, instantly blanketing the room in silence.

He turned to me, a sly grin playing on his lips. "Well, that was a dramatic exit, wouldn't you say? Straight out of a movie. I half expected him to declare his undying love and sweep you away in a horse-drawn carriage."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Elliot. Even if true love bit him on the ass, he wouldn't recognize it. A carriage? Please. He'd probably have a self-driving Tesla waiting."

Elliot's laughter always had a way of grounding me.

Like me, he came from old money. However, Elliot had always bucked family expectations, choosing architecture over finance, pursuing passion over profit.

He knew the suffocating weight of family expectations all too well. Because of that, he understood my need for this fake engagement-a mutual escape hatch from our respective families' pressures.

It was a partnership, a strategic alliance, but it felt like much more than that.

"So," Elliot's tone softened, "five years together. Any regrets?"

I shook my head. "It's only a relationship if the love is mutual. One-sided devotion is just playing the martyr."

As I spoke, my hand accidentally brushed against the soft fabric of Conrad's coat, which was still draped over my shoulders.

"Oh, for god's sake." I yanked the coat off. "Elliot, please, go give this back to him."

Elliot took the coat. "On it."

"I'll be right here, waiting by the window," I said, pointing to a secluded alcove. "Make it quick."

He nodded, gave my hand a comforting squeeze, and disappeared back through the double doors. I watched him go, then walked over to the window, gazing out at the city lights.

Suddenly, a deep, abrupt voice sounded behind me: "Looking for someone?"

I froze, my blood running cold. I knew that voice. It was Conrad.

I turned around slowly, my heart hammering in my chest.

"Mr. Gallagher," I said, striving for a perfectly neutral tone. "I assumed you had left. I sent Elliot to return your jacket..."

Before I could finish, he moved. His hand shot out, wrapping like a vice around my wrist.

"I need to talk to you," he said, his voice raspy.

"What do you want?" I demanded, wrenching myself free from his grip.

"Aurora," he murmured, his voice low and dark. "Tell me, have you really forgotten everything we shared? Forgotten everything about us?"

I hesitated, my breath catching in my throat. "I... I told you," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "My memory... isn't what it used to be."

"Oh? You remember Elliot, but conveniently forgot me?"

I pressed my lips together, finding that difficult to answer.

"And what about this?" His voice was thick with gravel. Without waiting for a reply, he lunged forward and crashed his lips onto mine, rough and domineering.

The sudden assault shocked me, panic instantly short-circuiting my brain. His hands, resting on my shoulders, slid up my neck to cup my jaw, pulling me flush against him.

His kiss was aggressive. My head spun, and I couldn't breathe.

This wasn't love; it was a violation.

Conrad must have sensed my revulsion and my violent resistance. He pulled back slightly, his breathing heavy and ragged. In the dim light, his eyes were wild and desperate. But he didn't let me go; his arms remained locked around my waist, holding me captive.

"You're so beautiful, Aurora," he whispered hoarsely. "There's no way you've forgotten everything."

"Tell me, Aurora. Do you really have amnesia? Or is it... selective amnesia? Are you forgetting me on purpose?"