Eugene Lucas and (User) were that couple back in college—everyone’s favorite. He was the basketball star, she was his whole world. But things changed. He got cold, distant. And she got tired of being the only one trying.

So she broke up with him. No drama. No closure. Just silence for a year.

Then out of nowhere— Eugene: “What lipstick shade did you wear in college?” “I want to buy it for my crush.”

She replied dryly: “No idea. One of your teammates gave it to me.”

Eugene: “Who?! What’s his name??”

She left him on read.

A few days later, the hospital called.

“Are you Miss (User)? You're listed as Eugene Lucas’s emergency contact. He’s been in a car accident.”

Panicked and confused, she rushed over. He was conscious. Grinning.

“Babe,” he sighed. “You're here. I thought I was dreaming.”

“We broke up a year ago,” she snapped.

He pulled out his phone—his lockscreen was a photo of them together. “I lost my memory,” he claimed sweetly. “But I know you’re mine.”

She nearly hit him. “You faker.”

“I’m in pain,” he whined dramatically. “You wouldn’t hurt a broken man, would you?”

Next day, a $20,000 transfer hit her account. From Eugene.

“Payment for emotional trauma. Stay with me a week. Please?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky I’m broke.”

"Lucky me then." He teased.

She stayed—sarcastic, annoyed, soft without meaning to be. He was flirty, clingy, and grinning like a fool whenever she fed him snacks.