My Boyfriend Pretended to Forget about me, and I Put him to Jail

My boyfriend, Cayson Morris, had a car accident and lost his memory.

I kept vigil by his side, always thinking he would come to remember me.

But later, Lydia George, his first love, came back from abroad, and he finally "regained" his memory.

He said to me, "I never lost my memory. I just used you as a stand-in, and now I'm tired of it."

On the same day he broke up with me, I was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in his hospital room after his car accident.

He looked at me, confused. "Who are you?" I gave him a professional smile and said, "I'm your caregiver, sir. I'll go get the doctor."

...

I pressed the call button with a precision that felt as if I had practiced it a thousand times.

Cayson's good-looking face was filled with shock. He had probably expected me to react as I did in my previous life, bursting into tears of joy and telling him I was his girlfriend, Tricia Graham.

Unfortunately, Tricia was gone in my previous life.

She died at the age of twenty-five, on the same day she was diagnosed with cancer.

The doctor and the nurse arrived quickly. They performed a series of checks on Cayson.

I stood there quietly and watched them as they worked.

"The patient's vital signs are stable. However, he appears to have no memory of the past," the doctor said to me while shining a flashlight into Cayson's pupils.

I nodded and took out a notebook and put it down. "The patient has awakened. It is confirmed that he lost his memories."

My handwriting was neat and steady, without a tremor.

Cayson's gaze was fixed on me. He was curious and slightly frustrated.

He couldn't understand my reaction.

In his plan, I was supposed to be devoted and head over heels for him. But I seemed so unfamiliar at that moment.

After the doctor and the nurse left, only the two of us remained in the room.

The room was quiet. Only the ticking of the machines was audible.

"Did we... know each other before?" he finally asked, unable to hold back.

I closed my notebook and looked up at him. I gave him a textbook-perfect smile. "Sir, my job is to take care of your physical needs, not to engage in conversation with you."

He furrowed his eyebrows instantly, and anger flashed in his eyes. "What attitude is that?"

"A professional attitude," I replied calmly.

"If you're dissatisfied with my service, you can complain to my employer, your parents." With that, I ignored him and began checking the flow rate of the IV drip.

Cayson had likely never been contradicted like this before. His face turned pale with anger, and his chest heaved.

He wanted to lash out, but a mere twitch ignited a searing pain in his wound, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

I didn't even look at him. "The doctor says you need rest and shouldn't get emotional."

He stared at me intently, like a caged animal.

And I was the keeper holding the key to the cage.

Cayson's parents arrived quickly.

As soon as his mother, Ellen Morris, entered the hospital room, she held my hand. Her eyes became red with emotion as he said, "Miss Graham, I truly appreciate all your hard work these past few days."

I gently withdrew my hand and said in a polite yet distant demeanor, "Mrs. Morris, you are welcome. It's my job."

I glanced behind her at Cayson's father, Mr. James Morris. He was renowned in the business world for his decisiveness. At that moment, he was regarding me with an approving look. "Miss Graham, we've heard from the agency that you're the best caregiver in the field. We entrust Cayson to your care."

I nodded slightly. "I'll do my best."

That scene completely surprised Cayson.

He had probably thought that I would tell his parents about our relationship and that they would ask me to leave after giving me a check.

But he didn't expect me to become the "senior caregiver" his parents hired.

"Dad, Mom, I don't want her to take care of me. Make her leave!" Cayson shouted, agitated.

Ellen immediately went over to soothe him. "Cayson, don't get upset. Miss Graham is taking good care of you. You just woke up, and you can't be left alone."

"I said, get her out!" Cayson stubbornly pointed at me, and his eyes were full of detestation.

I watched him perform quietly and felt nothing.

In my previous life, when he announced he was tired of toying with me, he had the same look.

Now, I just found it ridiculous as I saw his expression again.

James's face darkened. "Nonsense! Do you think hiring her is as simple as buying groceries?"

I said calmly at the right time, "Mr. and Mrs. Morris, since the patient is so resistant, I suggest we respect his wishes to avoid affecting his recovery. My fee is calculated daily. Since half the day has already passed, let's count it as half a day."

I took out my phone, ready to present my invoice to James and Ellen and request payment for the day's services.

Ellen heard my words and became anxious. "Not that, Miss Graham. Don't listen to him. He is talking nonsense. He's not thinking straight. We trust you. Please stay here, and we'll pay double."

Cayson was probably stunned by my straightforward reaction.

He must have thought I was playing a trick.

I put away my phone and offered a professional smile. "If that's the case, I'll continue with my duties. It's time for the patient to have some water now."

I poured a glass of warm water and inserted a straw. Then I brought it to Cayson's lips.

He turned his head away, full of resistance.

I didn't force him. I put the glass aside and noted it in my logbook. "The patient refused to drink water, 2:15 PM."

James watched the scene, and his expression grew increasingly grim.

Cayson's resistance lasted less than a day.

I adhered strictly to a caregiver's duties.

When he refused to have a meal, I noted it down and promptly removed the tray.

When he refused to have water, I recorded it and took the glass away.

When he needed the restroom and pressed the call button, I appeared within three seconds. However, if he said something harsh to me, I would immediately turn away and note it. "The patient is upset and refuses cooperation."

By the evening, his throat was parched, and his stomach growled with hunger. He was unable to hold out any longer.

"I'm thirsty..." he croaked.

His voice was hoarse.

I handed him the glass.

He gulped down greedily and then looked at me again. "I'm hungry."

I offered him the cold dishes.

He frowned. "Isn't there anything warm?"

"Sorry, sir, but it is not mealtime now."

He was furious and was ready to lash out. But he swallowed his words and silently began eating the cold dishes after he met my emotionless gaze.

From that day on, Cayson became much more compliant.

He no longer yelled at me, though his eyes were like daggers and seemed to pierce through me.

I knew he was waiting.

He was waiting for his beloved woman, Lydia.