I Forgot You on Purpose

My husband, Oliver Dawson, "forgot" everything in a car crash—and somehow fell for me all over again.

After getting out of the hospital, he said he wanted to date me from scratch. Moved out, made it all romantic.

People thought we were couple goals. I figured he just wanted that first-date spark back.

Then I overheard him with his best friend.

"The amnesia was a lie. I only moved out to take care of Katy. She's pregnant. Cecelia's never wanted kids. I'm not going childless."

I glanced down at my barely-there bump and booked a hospital appointment.

Then I found the memory-erasing pill Mom left me—and took it.

Oliver had no clue I'd forget him in seven days. Completely.

"Ms. Cervini, are you sure? You're three months in. This might mean no kids—ever."

I didn't flinch. "I'm sure."

The nurse gave me that soft, pitying look but kept quiet.

Once the anesthesia wore off, I popped the pill.

Oliver had faked his memory loss. But in seven days, I'd really forget him.

I booked a ticket home for exactly one week later.

Right as I set my phone down, the door burst open. Oliver walked in with a ridiculous bouquet.

"My princess," he said, all charm, "may I have the honor of taking you to my class reunion?"

Since the crash, he'd been laying it on thick—flowers every day, barely working, always planning some cute little outing.

But this same doting Oliver had knocked someone else up.

Just yesterday, his side chick showed up. First thing she did? Drop to her knees, begging me to let him go.

"Perry and I aren't pretty or successful like you," Katy sniffled. "You'll find someone better. But we're from the middle of nowhere. Our parents only care about sons. If we lose Oliver, we've got nothing."

Her voice was soft, sweet even—but every word hit like a slap.

When I didn't say what Katy wanted to hear, she doubled down.

"I'm already pregnant with Oliver's kid," she said. "I'm not after a title—I just need him to fake-marry Perry and me so people back home stop talking."

Still kneeling, but her eyes? Pure dare.

I don't even remember what I said.

Oliver leaned in, snapping me out of it. "What's on your mind, baby?"

I spotted the bite mark on his collarbone and looked away, letting him buckle my seatbelt without saying a thing.

By the time we got there, the table was already packed.

The second we walked in, the teasing kicked off.

"Oliver and Cecelia have been married, what, four or five years? Still act like they just started dating!"

"Well, Cecelia's basically his lucky charm. Ever since they got together, his company blew up. He's, like, Ashville's top CEO now."

"I still remember senior year—some psycho ran onto campus with a knife. Almost got Cecelia, but Oliver threw himself in front of her. Took the hit, arm was a mess. Said he didn't even think—just knew he couldn't let her get hurt."

The smile on my face froze.

Once, Oliver swore he'd die before letting anyone hurt me. Now? He was the one who broke me the worst.

A month ago, when I was still falling for his whole "amnesia" act, I caught him talking trash with his buddies.

Yeah, he said he loved me—but apparently I was "boring in bed."

He flat-out admitted the memory loss was fake. Just a cover so he could move out, mess around with his shiny new secretaries, Katy and Perry.

One of the guys laughed and asked why he didn't just get a divorce. After all, Oliver swore off kids when he proposed—said he'd even gotten a vasectomy.