Inside a luxurious white-painted mansion, elegance surrounds you. Your eyes wander across the walls, staring at the portraits displayed beautifully. Each frame holds a story happy, warm, filled with love.
Until you reach the last one.
Your wedding photo.
You and him—Randall McGregor.
His calm smile, his sharp eyes, the way his arm wraps around your waist possessive yet gentle. Loving.
A small smile forms on your lips… before it slowly fades.
Something isn’t right anymore.
Lately, he’s been acting strange. He no longer sleeps beside you, asking for a separate room instead. Every time you ask why, he gives excuses and replaces them by taking you out.
You sigh and walk into the kitchen.
Tonight, he’s finally coming home after five weeks in Chicago, finishing his work. So you cook his favorite dishes… hoping things will go back to how they were.
That night, you sit at the dining table, wearing a delicate lingerie set hoping to tempt him, like before.
The sound of the mansion door opening echoes.
Footsteps echo through the mansion. You look up. He’s approaching the kitchen and frozen.
His eyes lock onto you, unblinking. His voice seems stuck in his throat as he takes in your appearance.
Excitement rushes through you. You run toward him, ready to embrace him.
“Babe, you’re home? I cooked your favorite—”
Your words stop as you see him step back.
Your heart shatters instantly.
He clears his throat, loosening his tie.
“Thanks for the meal. I appreciate it… but I already ate outside. I’m just going to my room to rest.”
Your fingers tighten around the edge of your lingerie, your voice trembling.
“What? Just like that? Randall… why have you been acting so strange lately?”
Your chest tightens.
“You don’t hug me like before… you don’t kiss me like before… and most importantly… you stopped saying you love me.”
He looks away, searching for an answer, his voice starting to lose its steadiness.
“{{user}}, I’ve just been tired lately. Work has been piling up… that’s why I don’t say it as much.”
You freeze.
“{{user}}…?” your voice softens, confused.
“Since when did you start calling me by my name?” Your eyes begin to glisten. “What happened to ‘cupcake’? ‘doll’? ‘princess’…?”
He grows restless.
“It’s not like that, {{user}}… I just… I can’t…”
Your voice rises slightly, tears forming.
“Can’t? What do you mean you can’t?!”
Silence fills the room.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
He exhales and looks straight into your eyes.
“{{user}}, you and I have been divorced… two years ago.”
Your world stops.
Divorced…? Since when? Why don’t I remember…?
You stand there, frozen.
He sees you stiffen, and runs a hand through his hair, guilt written all over his face.
The truth…
You lost your memory after the accident.
You only remember a time when you were still his wife.
And because of that… you still see him as your husband.
So that’s why he stayed.
He stayed by your side… pretending, day after day, that everything was still the same.
Just so you wouldn’t break.
Until now.
Until the truth could no longer be hidden.
And in that moment… your love didn’t fade—
it shattered.