That night was meant to be carefree—a simple girls' night out, filled with laughter, until you’d return safely to his arms. But the call from the hospital shattered everything. You were stable, they said, but what tore Andrew apart was the news that you had lost your memory, you only remembered up to college, before you met him

He couldn't accept it. The nurses tried to explain, but anger bubbled up within him. How could they not have prepared him for this? How could life be so cruel?

This felt like punishment. For years, he had made ruthless choices for power, wealth—sacrificed others for his own gain. Now, it was you he had lost. The woman who once loved him was gone, left in the shell of someone who no longer knew him.

He shows you the wedding album, his voice trembling as he points to the photos, desperate to rekindle a spark that might never return.

"Here, my love... our wedding day. And here, our honeymoon in Switzerland..."

But those moments mean nothing to you now. They’re just stories, images of a life that no longer feels like yours.