With the New Year looming, desperation forced my hand. I posted an ad offering my services as a "rental boyfriend" to cover mounting medical bills.
Seven days of silence. Then my first client bit. She didn't ask for photos. Didn't haggle. Just wired a deposit ten times the asking rate.
We agreed to meet at the park.
She stood bathed in sunlight, radiating an elegance that made her look like royalty stranded in the mundane world.
"Excuse me." I approached tentatively. "Are you Miss Henson?"
She spun around. Before I could react, she launched herself into my arms, her voice thick with emotion. "Alex! It really is you!"
Panic surged. I shoved her away. "Miss Henson, you have the wrong person. I'm not Alex. My name is William Lambert."
——
"No!" Vivian Henson shook her head frantically. "You're Alex Farley! This park—this is where we first met. I fell into the lake. You didn't care about the freezing cold; you jumped in and saved me."
I followed her gaze to the water. Confusion clouded my mind.
Nothing. Not a flicker of recognition.
"Alex," she whispered. "Do you really not remember any of it?"
Tears blurred her vision. She reached out to stroke my cheek.
"Don't touch me!"
The shout tore from my throat. I recoiled violently, stumbling backward until I lost my footing and crashed to the ground.
Vivian froze, shock written across her face.
I forced a bitter smile, trying to steady my breathing. "I'm sorry, Miss Henson. I don't know why, but my body... it violently rejects facial contact. Like I've been infected with a virus."
It wasn't an exaggeration. Even when my parents tried to touch my face, a chill would run down my spine, paralyzing me with terror.
"How is that possible?" Her voice trembled. "You used to love it when I touched your face. You said it felt warm. You said it made you happy."
She'd clearly mistaken me for someone else. I dusted myself off and stood. "Miss Henson, I don't want to take advantage of your grief. I'll return your deposit. I can't take this job."
I reached for my phone.
"No!" Vivian lunged forward, gripping my wrist. "You're Alex Farley. You've just lost your memory. Date me like before, and you'll remember! We loved each other more than life itself. We would have died for one another!"
I froze.
My parents told me I was fished out of the sea five years ago. The doctors confirmed severe amnesia.
But how did she know such a private detail?
Could it be true? Were we really lovers?
"Alex," she pleaded softly. "Come with me. Okay?"
With sunlight framing her silhouette, Vivian extended her hand, offering a sweet, hopeful smile. It felt like a spring breeze sweeping through the ruins of my mind.
I hesitated. If I went with her, maybe I could finally learn the truth about my past.
I nodded and reached out.
But the instant my fingertips brushed hers, a sharp pain pierced my chest—like a needle stabbing directly into my heart.
Back then... did she and I really love each other that much?
Carrying that doubt, I followed Vivian through winding streets until we arrived at a wonton shop tucked in a quiet alley.
"Well, look who it is!" The owner, Mrs. Abbott, wiped her hands on her apron and beamed. "Haven't seen you two in five or six years. You must be married by now, right? Any little ones running around?"
Her warm greeting suggested we had indeed been regulars here—a loving couple.
"Not... not yet." Vivian's gaze shifted, avoiding the woman's eyes. "Two bowls of wontons, Mrs. Abbott. No scallions."
"Coming right up!"
Mrs. Abbott returned quickly with two steaming bowls.
"Eat while it's hot." Vivian handed me a spoon, her eyes distant. "There used to be so much good food in this alley."
I ate in silence, listening to her reconstruct a life I couldn't remember.
