When she was a kid, a car accident wiped out all her memories of Denver Dillahunt.
When they grew up, they crossed paths again by chance.
She didn't recognize him, and he only treated her like a stand-in for his childhood sweetheart.
After dating for four years, they were about to get married.
Out of nowhere, someone pretending to be his childhood sweetheart came into their lives—and stole everything from her.
But she didn't compete with her imposter. On the day of the wedding, she just disappeared.
Later, her memories came flooding back.
And Denver finally realized who she really was.
He was so full of regret for not recognizing her sooner that he even poked one of his eyes, hoping she'd forgive him.
But she said firmly, "Denver, there's no going back."
——
If it weren't for the minor car accident that day, Leslie Jeffries wouldn't have checked her car's dashcam. And she wouldn't have discovered the proof of her fiancé's cheating.
The footage was crystal clear: a young woman wrapped her arms around Denver's neck and kissed him.
Denver—her fiancé—didn't pull away.
Just as Leslie was processing this, the driver who hit her car tapped on her window, trying to negotiate.
"Hey, miss, can we just settle this privately? How about I give you 70 bucks to fix it?"
But Leslie didn't care about the accident anymore. She just waved the driver off, telling him to leave.
With trembling hands, she started playing the most recent footage from the dashcam.
And with each one, she felt her heart sink deeper and deeper:
Three days ago, Denver wasn't at a business dinner—he was having a candlelit date with that woman.
Last weekend, he didn't go on a business trip—he took her on a weekend getaway out of town.
Two months ago, he gave Leslie the Cartier watch from his trip to France. But it turned out that he was only there to buy his other woman a Patek Philippe, and the Cartier watch was basically a freebie.
And that other woman—Kiana Lawrence—only moved into their place six months ago.
Denver had said she was his long-lost sister.
"Would a sister be so intimate with her brother?" Leslie scoffed. "That's just so disgusting, so pathetic!"
Leslie didn't know how long she sat there by the side of the road until her phone rang. It was Denver.
"My love, your car's all set. I'm coming to pick you up now."
She opened her mouth to speak, but all she could feel was bitterness in her throat. No words came out.
"Hello? My love, you there?" he asked gently.
"Yeah…" she managed to whisper before tears spilled down her cheeks.
She covered her mouth, trying to stop herself from sobbing out loud.
"My love, what's wrong? Are you still at the bridal shop?" he asked. "Stay there, I'm on my way!"
He hung up, checked her location through the car's GPS, and sped over to her.
Ten minutes later, Denver found her sitting on the curb outside the bridal shop, looking completely lost.
Without saying a word, he pulled her into his arms.
"You scared the hell out of me! What happened?"
Leslie didn't tell him the truth. "I-I'm sorry. I accidentally had your car scratched…"
Denver let out a sigh of relief. "That's it? My love, it's just a scratch. Don't cry over something like that. I'll take care of it, okay?"
He gently rubbed her face, smiling as he asked, "By the way, did you pick out a wedding gown?"
She had already narrowed it down to three and was waiting for him to help her decide.
But now, staring at him lying to her face, she realized the dress didn't matter anymore.
"Yeah, I picked one. Let's go home."
The streets of Los Angeles stayed as lively as ever, cars and people everywhere.
But Leslie's world was falling apart.
Sitting in the passenger seat, she didn't say a word—not like her usual self.
Denver reached over and worriedly held her hand.
"What's wrong, my love? Why are you so quiet?"
Suddenly, Leslie's eyes drifted to the glove compartment. There, sitting in plain sight, was lipstick.
