After the hospital, I didn't hear from Desmond again.

But his party boy life? All over social.

Every night he was out—bars, karaoke, always surrounded by girls who looked like they lived for attention. Young, loud, full of energy. I figured this was the life he actually wanted.

I was halfway through packing when he showed up at the door—with some girl latched onto his arm.

He stalled, dropped his hand from her waist, then slapped it right back like nothing happened. Oh right, the amnesia.

"I believe this is my house. Without my permission, Ms. Wayne, wouldn't this count as trespassing?"

My fingers clenched the suitcase handle. Technically, yeah—it was his place. Supposed to be our home.

And now he's just gonna waltz in with a new girl like this is his hookup pad?

I bit my tongue.

"But since you claim to have been my fiancée," he smirked, "I'll let it slide this time. Just don't come in without asking next time."

I looked him dead in the eye. "Understood. Won't happen again. Thanks."

And it wouldn't. I was done with this place—and with him.

As I turned to leave, suitcase in hand, the girl piped up. "Desmond, who knows what she's hiding in there? We should check."

He'd just told me to go, but now he flipped like a switch.

He spun around, grabbing at my suitcase.

"Right! Totally forgot. Good call, babe. Who knows what this broke chick's trying to steal?"

He tugged at it like he was about to dump it out.

I held tight. "It's mine. You can't touch it."

Desmond snapped, "You're leaving my house. You could've swiped something."

A chill hit.

That's all I was to him now—a thief.

He tore it from my hands. I fought, but it was useless.

Clothes spilled everywhere.

I let go.

"Go ahead. Nothing in there's yours."

Juliet Kemp giggled behind her hand. "Seriously? You actually wore this outdated mess? Total bumpkin vibes."

Desmond laughed. "Well yeah. She's just some nobody from the sticks. Not like you, babe—you've got real taste."

They kept going, shredding me with every word.

That suitcase was the last straw.

"Since none of it's yours, I'll handle it."

I grabbed a few old pieces, then tossed the rest in the trash.

Desmond's smile cracked.

He recognized the stuff—he'd bought most of it.

Even the white wedding dress. The one I picked for our big day.

"You're throwing it all away? Even the dress?"

I shot him a look. Cold.

Then dropped a lighter in the trash.

The flames jumped fast.

"Don't need it. Never will."

I waited until it burned out—then walked.

Under the weak light, Desmond's face was unreadable.

Just as I hit the corner, he rushed up and grabbed my wrist.

"Even if I forgot you, you shouldn't give up on yourself. What if I remember someday?"

I let out a short, bitter laugh.

Didn't say a word.

Pulled my hand free and kept walking.

For once, I was actually glad he faked the whole amnesia thing before the wedding.

If he'd done this after we were married?

Yeah... the damage would've been way worse.

After I left, I crashed at a hotel for the night.

Next day, got an apartment with a realtor's help.

I thought that was the end of Desmond.

Then I found out I was pregnant.

I hadn't even eaten, but I was already throwing up.

At the hospital for a checkup, I ran straight into Desmond—and a bunch of his siblings and cousins.

Tried to walk past, but my feet froze.

They circled me, all smug smiles and nasty stares.

"You really thought some country girl like you could marry into our family?"

"Back then, who knows what spell you put on Desmond. He even cut us off for you. Good thing he finally snapped out of it."

"Wait—is that an ultrasound in her hand?"

Yeah. They never liked me.

Not since Desmond picked me over them.

One of them snatched the report from my hands and laughed.

"Rhea Wayne, seriously? Desmond dumps you, and now you're faking a pregnancy?"

"Still clinging to our family, huh?"

"As long as we're around, forget it. Desmond's locked in with the Kemp heiress now. You don't even register."

I ripped the ultrasound back from Peggy and shoved past them.

Desmond strolled over, fresh from his checkup. Saw me, paused—then smirked.

"Followed me all the way here, huh? Must be obsessed. Alright, I'm feeling nice today. Win me over, and maybe I'll be your boyfriend."

I said nothing.

After Peggy whispered the tea, Desmond glanced at the ultrasound and suddenly acted like everything clicked.

"Wow. Bribing a doctor to fake a pregnancy? Just to marry up? That's bold. Too bad I'm not ready for dad life. Let's start smaller—be my girlfriend first."

I closed my eyes, let out a quiet laugh.

Why was I still hoping for anything?

"No thanks. I was never chasing your money. And I sure as hell don't wanna be your girlfriend."

Five years ago, he was the one chasing me.

Yeah, I knew he came from money. That's why I always gave back, matched every gift. I never took advantage—because I actually loved him. I wanted it to be real. Wanted us to last.

At least, that's what I believed—before he pulled the amnesia stunt.

Now it hit me. He never saw me as anything but a social climber. Thought I was using him. Like I was some backwoods embarrassment stuck to his shoe.

That's why he faked it.

I looked at him—finally seeing things for what they were.

He looked away, all awkward.

"Alright, alright, I get it. You're head over heels. I'll be your boyfriend—just no marriage talk 'til my memory's back."

Maybe he still thought I'd melt for scraps.

That used to be true. Back when love made me settle for crumbs.

Not anymore.

"Thanks, but nah. You've got a girlfriend. I'm not about to be the other girl."

I turned and walked.

Could feel his eyes on me.

"Rhea..."

He was about to say more, but Peggy pulled at his sleeve.

"Let's go. Juliet's waiting at home."

After I left the hospital, I booked the abortion for the next day.

Around ten, just as I was crashing in my apartment, Desmond called.

"There's still some of your stuff here. My girlfriend doesn't wanna see it. Come get it."

I kept my voice chill. "Just toss it. None of it matters."

Anything real? I'd already taken. What was left was either junk or haunted by him.

He scoffed. "Why should I deal with your crap? Get over here or I'll report you for trespassing and theft."

I rubbed my temples. He was exhausting.

When I got to the house, I saw our wedding photos and other photos with five years of his fake smiles.

Desmond grinned. "We looked like we were in love. Who knows, maybe I'll fall for you again."

I forced a smile, but yeah, no. I couldn't play along.

I grabbed a pair of scissors and started slicing through the photos.

Desmond's face changed. He lunged to stop me.

I didn't flinch. The scissors nicked his hand.

He yelped, eyes wide. "You stabbed me with scissors!"

I met his gaze and smiled. "You're the one who reached for it."

Juliet stormed in, full drama. "Rhea Wayne, how cruel can you be? Desmond forgot you, and now you're trying to kill him? Anyone who marries you is cursed!"

Her words hit—just for a second.

But I kept cutting.

Once every photo was split, I grabbed the halves with my face on them.

One last glance to make sure I didn't leave anything behind.

"There's nothing of mine here. Don't ever call me again."

***

Next morning, I went in for the abortion.

Lying on the bed, getting wheeled into the OR, I spotted two people tangled up nearby.

Under a blanket. In birthday suit.

Juliet's voice was all sniffles. "This is your fault, Desmond. You had to try that stuff. Now look—we're both stuck here. It's so embarrassing."

Desmond couldn't stand girls crying.

But this time? He held her close, kissed her forehead like they were some tragic romance couple.

"Relax," he whispered. "Blanket's on. No one can see. Isn't this kinda hot?"

Gross.

I turned my head.

The doctor leaned in. "Ms. Wayne, are you sure you want to terminate the pregnancy?"

Eyes shut. "Yeah. Do it."

Just as they pushed me through the OR doors, I heard Desmond freak out behind me.

"Rhea? Was that you? Are you getting an abortion? You're really pregnant? That baby's mine—I'm not letting you do this!"