He Faked Amnesia for Her, I Left Without Goodbye

Ambrose Walker liked everything that made his heart race.

He had tried every extreme sport under the sun, and his girlfriends only got younger with time. But not once did he bring a single woman home.

In the eighth year of our marriage, he had a paragliding accident. When he finally opened his eyes, the first person he saw was Millicent Turner, who had simply wandered into the wrong hospital room.

From that moment on, he clung to the belief that she was the girl he had loved with all his heart.

He showered her with luxury cars, handed her the keys to grand mansions, flew in oceans of roses from overseas, and even bid on diamonds worth hundreds of millions.

Just to see Millicent smile, he forced me to dance on a frozen lake at minus-five degrees.

I wore a thin, fluttering dress and performed again and again on the cracking ice until my body finally gave in and collapsed.

When Millicent played a racing game, she deliberately switched it to turbo mode and crashed straight into me.

My leg snapped, and blood-soaked my abdomen.

Ambrose barely frowned as he said coldly, “She’s still young. She doesn’t know any better.”

Clutching my stomach, I dragged my shattered leg and limped my way to his parents.

“The debt I owed your family is finally paid in full.”

While drinking alone late at night, laughter spilled from the private room next door, it was Ambrose and his friends.

“Ambrose, aren’t you afraid Jasmine will really leave you one day?”

“She’s head over heels for me. Once I’m done playing around, a few sweet lines and she’ll come crawling back.”

“The wife your parents chose, she’s lifeless in bed. How could she ever compete with Millicent, who actually knows how to tease a man?”

I let out a low laugh.

After enduring 99 betrayals, this would be the last.

——

I gently swirled the wine in my glass. After all these years of marriage, I rarely drank.

The club’s soundproofing was terrible. Every word from the next room bled through the walls, cutting deep.

“Ambrose, aren’t you afraid Jasmine might really divorce you?”

Ambrose’s cold laugh sliced through me like a blade. “Her? She loves me to death. A few sweet words, and she’ll come running back.”

The sound of clinking glasses followed, crisp, mocking.

“A wife arranged by the family, like a dead fish in bed. She’s nothing compared to Millicent. That girl knows how to drive a man crazy.”

I froze as if someone had poured ice water over my soul.

I threw back a mouthful of wine, the sharp burn searing down my throat.

At some point, a single white strand had quietly settled into my palm.

By 2 a.m., I dragged my weary body back to the villa. The moment I pushed open the door, a pungent stench hit me like a slap. Scattered across the floor were women’s underwear and a man’s tie, and a black stocking dangled carelessly from the stair railing.

I stopped in my tracks, ready to turn and disappear unnoticed.

“Stop.”

Ambrose descended the spiral staircase with Millicent cradled in his arms. She wore nothing but his shirt, her neck marked with red traces of indulgence.

“Clean this place up,” he said lazily, his fingers brushing her waist like she was his prized possession.

Seeing me rooted to the spot, he grabbed my wrist, his grip unrelenting. “Not cleaning? Fine, I’ll dock the staff’s salary for an entire year.”

He knew my weakness far too well. I couldn’t bear for the servants to resent me.

So I knelt on the cold marble floor and quietly picked up every last trace of their shameless indulgence.

Millicent giggled, curling deeper into Ambrose’s embrace as he fed her grapes one by one, his fingertips flirting with her lips.

When I finished, I walked toward him. “Ambrose, let’s div—”

“Oh—” Millicent suddenly gagged.

Ambrose’s face shifted instantly. “Millicent? Don’t tell me…”

Then he turned to me, his voice like ice. “Go buy a pregnancy test. Now.”

The late autumn wind cut against my skin like needles as I stood outside the 24-hour pharmacy, my heart strangled by something cold and invisible.

By the time I returned, the test showed two red lines. Ambrose’s face lit up like the sun had risen just for him.