Remembered Too Late

My husband, Roger Harvey, was a renowned top-tier lawyer in the industry, but he could never remember anything outside of his cases.

He never remembered my birthday or our wedding anniversary.

Every night he stood at the bedroom door and asked politely yet distantly, "Is this the one?"

He could not even remember my name or what I looked like.

To make him "remember" me, I hung our wedding photo on the wall with a label underneath. "Anniversary: May 20."

I put a nameplate on the bedroom door that read "Bedroom."

I even labeled everything in the house with sticky notes that explained in detail how to use each item and its background.

I thought it was a side effect of his high-pressure job, so I never complained.

That changed the day a multi-car pileup sent both me and his childhood friend, Sylvie Gordon, into the emergency room at the same time.

He rushed frantically to Sylvie's bedside and shouted in a clear, urgent voice, "She has tachycardia. She caught a cold last month but no fever."

The nurse handling the rescue grabbed him and asked, "Sir, your wife is also seriously injured. Does she have any medical history or allergies?"

He turned his head, looked at me covered in blood, and shook his head blankly. "I don't remember."

In that moment I finally understood. He was not forgetful. His memory was astonishingly sharp.

He simply reserved that precise, precious memory for someone else.

Everything about me he had never cared to keep in his heart.

...

The nurse looked at him with surprise and disbelief, then turned to report to the doctor.

The doctor managed to pull up my medical records through my ID number.

Throughout the entire rescue process, Roger stayed by Sylvie's bed.

He held Sylvie's hand. Worry filled his eyes as he kept murmuring details about her condition. "Temperature normal, blood pressure a bit low. She can't eat seafood. She's allergic. She got caught in the rain last week and had a slight cough. Not sure if it affected anything."

Every word came out clear and organized. No wonder he was the undefeated star attorney in court.

My attending doctor shook his head as he listened. When he came to examine me, he could not hold back and said, "Your husband really cares deeply about that Ms. Gordon."

I tugged at the corners of my mouth but could not make a sound.

The anesthesia was wearing off. The intense pain from broken ribs and internal bruising felt like countless needles piercing me.

Yet none of it compared to the agony of my heart being torn apart.

Roger, my husband, never glanced at me even once from beginning to end.

It was as if I was not his wife but a complete stranger.

Sylvie's test results came back first. She only had a mild concussion and some superficial wounds.

Roger let out a long sigh of relief. He carefully helped her sit up and comforted her softly. "It's all right, Sylvie. Don't be scared."

Sylvie leaned into his arms and cried beautifully. "Roger, I was so afraid. I thought I'd never see you again."

Roger patted her back gently. His voice was tender enough to melt anyone. "Silly girl. How could I ever let anything happen to you."

What a touching scene.

If I were not lying on a bed less than ten feet away, covered in blood, I might have been moved too.

The nurse came to change my dressings. She looked at them, then at me. Her eyes filled with pity.

She whispered to me, "Ms. Walton, your hospitalization paperwork hasn't been done yet, and the medical bills..."

I understood what she meant.

I endured the pain, pulled out my phone, and called my best friend, Sonya Murphy.

As soon as the call connected, Sonya's lively voice burst through. "Josie, you miss me already? Did the great lawyer Roger forget to come home again, leaving you all alone and lonely?"

My tears broke free in that instant.

I sobbed uncontrollably and only managed to choke out a few words. "Sonya, come to the hospital... save me."

Sonya went silent on the other end. Then came the crash of a chair and hurried footsteps. "Address! Which hospital?"

I gave her the address and hung up.

Roger finally spared me a single second of his attention.

His brows furrowed. Impatience and reproach flashed in his eyes, as if he blamed me for disturbing his tender moment with Sylvie.

He stood up and walked to my bed.

I thought he would finally show some concern.

Instead he opened his mouth with an icy question. "Can you keep it down?"

My heart sank completely into an ice pit.

In his eyes, my desperate cry for help while on the brink of death was nothing more than noise.

At that moment, Sylvie, who had finished her discharge procedures, walked over weakly and tugged at Roger's sleeve. "Roger, let's go. The disinfectant smell here is strong. It makes me uncomfortable."

Roger immediately turned around, supported her, and switched back to gentle mode. "Okay, let's go home."

He did not look at me again. He simply held Sylvie and walked step by step out of my sight.

The nurse could not stand it anymore. She chased after them and called out, "Mr. Harvey! Your wife is still here. She's badly hurt!"

Roger disappeared down the hallway without turning back.

Sonya rushed into the ward while I stared blankly at the ceiling.

She saw my injuries and her eyes reddened instantly. She threw her arms around me and cried harder than I had.

"Josie! How did you end up like this! Where is that bastard Roger!"

Her voice echoed through the empty ward with angry trembling.

I forced a smile uglier than crying and patted her back lightly. "I'm fine. I won't die."

Sonya wiped her tears and gritted her teeth as she handled the paperwork, paid the bills, and arranged a caregiver.

She bustled around until she settled everything properly. Then she sat by my bed and started the interrogation. "Tell me. What exactly happened? Was it that scheming Sylvie again?"

I recounted the car accident and Roger's behavior in the emergency room without leaving anything out.

Sonya jumped up from her chair when she finished listening. She pointed toward the door and unleashed a torrent of curses. "Roger is blind! No, his brain must have been fried! For an ungrateful bitch, he ignored whether his own wife lived or died! I want to shred his law license!"

I listened quietly to her rant. My heart felt no major ripples.

Nothing was more grieving than a dead heart. That was probably this feeling.

Sonya tired herself out cursing and sat back down beside me. She held my hand with eyes full of heartache. "Josie, what do you even see in him? Why do you keep putting up with this kind of man? Divorce! You have to divorce!"

What did I see in him?

I had asked myself that countless times.

Five years ago, someone falsely accused my father of business fraud. The company went bankrupt and everyone avoided us.

Roger, who had just started making his name, took on the case no one else dared touch.

He worked without sleep for three months and pieced together evidence from the thinnest threads to clear my father's name.

He said it was his duty as a lawyer.

From that moment, this man took root in my heart.

I thought he embodied justice and became my savior.

Only after we married did I learn that another person already lived in his heart.

That girl named Sylvie was his childhood neighbor and the dream in his thoughts.

I was merely a suitable wife he picked casually to appease family pressure.

I told Sonya this past story. My voice stayed calm without the slightest fluctuation.

Sonya remained silent for a long time before she let out a long sigh. "So you feel you owe him and you've been repaying that debt with these years of marriage?"

I nodded.

"And now?" Sonya pressed. "Do you think the debt is paid?"

Was it paid?

I remembered his indifferent eyes in the emergency room and those blank "I don't remember" words.

For him, I learned to cook his favorite dishes even when I burned my hands full of blisters.

For him, I gave up my own career and willingly became a full-time housewife who managed everything perfectly.

For him, I covered the house with sticky notes just so he might "remember" this home and remember me.

Yet all my efforts weighed lighter than a feather in his eyes.

I had nearly lost my life.

No matter how heavy that favor was, it should now be repaid.

I told Sonya, "It's paid."

Sonya's eyes lit up. "Then we find a lawyer right now and sue him for divorce! Isn't he the top attorney? We'll hire his strongest rival! Let him taste defeat for once!"

I shook my head.

Roger's connections and status in the industry were unmatched.

I had no chance of winning a lawsuit against him.

Besides, he enjoyed the care I gave him and the convenience and stability this marriage provided.

With his personality, he would not easily agree to divorce.

I lay in the hospital for three days.

In those three days, Roger sent no calls or messages.

He seemed to have completely forgotten that he had a wife named Josie Walton.

Sonya came to keep me company every day. She cared for me while handling the follow-up matters.

I used a newly purchased phone card and sent a message to Roger's assistant in a stranger's tone. "Ms. Josie Walton will travel out of town for a one-month retreat. Please do not disturb her with any matters during this time."

The assistant replied quickly. "Understood. Received."

I knew he would definitely pass the message to Roger.

Roger would only think I was considerate for tactfully disappearing when he needed to care for Sylvie.

On the morning of the fourth day, I pulled out the IV tube from my hand.

With Sonya's help, I completed the discharge procedures and left the hospital quietly.

I did not go home. I asked Sonya to make a trip for me.

I did not want to set eyes again on that house filled with my efforts and despair.

Sonya followed my request and placed the ring on the nightstand in the bedroom, next to the photo frame I once wiped clean every day.

In the picture, I smiled brightly while his expression remained distant.

When she returned, she told me, "I put away your photos from the bedroom and the living room. I cleared every spot where your face could be seen."

I nodded. "Thank you."

She hesitated as if wanting to say more. "Josie, are you really sure about this? Once you leave, you might never come back."

I looked out the window. The distant sky hung gray and heavy, much like my past five years.

But I knew the sun would break through eventually.

"I'm sure." My tone stayed firm. "The world is so big. There has to be a place without Roger and without Sylvie."

The moment I boarded the train, I glanced back at the city where I had lived for over twenty years.

It held my youth, my love, my pain.

Now I left all of it behind here.

The train started moving slowly and carried me toward an unknown future.

Josie Walton had died.

She died in that car accident and in Roger's indifferent gaze.

From now on, I was just myself.

A free person who lived for herself.