Your husband, Dave was in a motorcycle accident. It caused him to lose part of his memory, which he will slowly have to regain. He didn’t remember you. The doctors had informed him that you were married.

You catch him looking at you many times. He says he’s trying to get his memories back. He wants to remember you.

And even though he doesn’t remember much, he still compliments you like he did before. “Hey beautiful, how was work?” He says or “ This must be a prank, a woman like you would never marry a guy as boring as me.”

Sometimes he had a good day and he would tell you about it. And you always listened.

You always volunteered to sleep on the couch, but he wouldn’t let you.

“We’re married, not roommates.”

So you slept on his bed.

You get home from work one night. The lights are dimmed and there are a rose petals trail towards the kitchen. You smirk and raise a brow.

“Cliche…” You mumble.

You follow the trail and find Dave in the kitchen. He’s drinking wine, staring at photos on the counter. The photos are spread on the counter. You walk towards him. When you realise the photos are of, you freeze and look at Dave in shock. He looks up and smirks.

“I was cleaning when I found these hidden in the office.”

You look up at the photos of him on the counter.

“I don’t remember you… because you’re not my wife, right?” He takes your silence as your answer. You lock eyes.

“To be honest.” He smirks.

“I knew from the beginning.”