My Fiancé Believed His Ex’s Lies

"Room 402. Intensive Care."

The triage nurse barely finished her sentence before I sprinted down the sterile white corridor. My sneakers squeaked harshly against the linoleum. The hospital lights buzzed overhead, casting a sickly yellow glow over the rushing doctors and rolling carts.

Ethan had been mugged. Blunt force trauma to the back of the head.

That was the only information the police gave me over the phone. We were supposed to be finalizing our wedding catering today. Instead, I was navigating a maze of medical equipment, my chest tight with a panic that threatened to swallow me whole.

I shoved open the heavy wooden door to room 402.

The heart monitor beeped in a steady, rhythmic thrum. Ethan lay on the narrow bed, a thick white bandage wrapped around his skull. His face was pale, shadows pooling under his cheekbones.

But he wasn't alone.

A woman sat in the plastic visitor’s chair, her manicured fingers resting softly over Ethan’s hand. She leaned in close, whispering something I couldn't hear.

Chloe Miller.

Ethan’s college girlfriend. The woman he broke up with six years ago.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, my voice cracking the quiet atmosphere of the room.

Chloe snapped her head up. Her eyes widened in mock surprise, but a sharp, triumphant gleam flashed in her pupils. She didn't move her hand away from his.

"Keep your voice down," Chloe hissed, standing up to block my path to the bed. "He just woke up. The doctors said he needs absolute peace."

"Move away from my fiancé," I ordered, stepping around her.

I reached for Ethan. My fingers brushed his forearm, desperate for the familiar warmth of his skin.

He yanked his arm back as if I had burned him.

The sudden movement made the machines spike. Ethan scrambled up against the pillows, his chest heaving. His eyes, usually so warm and full of laughter, locked onto mine.

There was no recognition in them. Only fear. And a heavy, freezing hostility.

"Who are you?" Ethan asked. His voice was raspy, dry from disuse.

The question hit me like a physical blow to the stomach. My hand froze in mid-air.

"Ethan, it’s me," I said, forcing a nervous chuckle. "It’s Serena. Please don't joke like this. Not today."

He stared at me, his brow furrowing in deep confusion. He glanced past my shoulder, seeking out the other woman in the room.

"Chloe, is this her?" he asked, his tone urgent.

Chloe stepped forward, wrapping a protective arm around his shoulders. "Yes, honey. This is the woman I told you about."

"Told him what?" I spun around to face her. "What are you talking about?"

"Security should have stopped you at the lobby," Chloe said smoothly, her tone dripping with fake sympathy. "Ethan, don't look at her. Just stay calm. Your heart rate is climbing."

"Someone tell me what is going on!" I yelled.

Ethan winced, pressing a hand to his bandaged head. "Get her out of here. Please."

"Ethan!" I grabbed the metal bedrail. "We are getting married in three weeks! We’ve been together for five years. Look at me!"

I shoved my left hand in front of his face, the diamond engagement ring catching the harsh overhead light.

He didn't even glance at the ring. His eyes remained fixed on my face, completely devoid of the love that had anchored my life for half a decade.

"I have no idea who you are," Ethan said, his voice dropping into a cold, flat register. "But I know what you are."

"What?" My voice barely registered above a whisper.

"She warned me," Ethan continued, gesturing to Chloe. "She told me you might try to sneak in here while I was vulnerable."

"Chloe told you what?" I demanded, my blood turning to ice.

Chloe gave me a sad, pitying look. "Serena, you need to stop this. Your obsession has gone too far. Following him to the hospital? Claiming to be his fiancée? It’s sick."

"Obsession?" I stared at her, utterly bewildered. "You psychotic liar. We live together! We share a dog!"

"She broke into my apartment?" Ethan asked Chloe, his jaw tightening.

"Yes, baby," Chloe murmured, stroking his shoulder. "She’s been stalking you for months. The police are already building a case against her. She fabricated this whole fantasy in her head."

"That is a lie!" I screamed, digging into my purse. My hands shook violently as I pulled out my phone. "I have thousands of photos of us. Vacations. Holidays. Our engagement party. Look!"

I unlocked the screen and shoved the phone toward him. The background was a selfie of us on the beach in Malibu, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist.

Ethan squinted at the screen. For a split second, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his features.

Then Chloe sighed heavily. "Photoshop is incredibly easy to use these days. She plastered her face over mine, Ethan. Remember our Malibu trip?"

"Yes," Ethan said quickly, his eyes darting to Chloe. "I remember Malibu. We went for our anniversary."

"Exactly," Chloe said.

"Ethan, no!" I pleaded, tears finally spilling over my eyelashes. "That was us! You and me! You haven't spoken to Chloe in six years!"

"Stop screaming at him!" Chloe barked, her gentle facade cracking for just a moment. She reached over and pressed the red call button on the wall. "Nurse! We need security in room 402 immediately!"

"Ethan, please," I begged, lowering my voice. I fell to my knees beside the bed. "Look into my eyes. Really look at me. You know me. I'm Serena. You asked me to marry you in the rain outside our favorite diner. You hate tomatoes. You sleep on the left side of the bed. You love me."

He stared down at me. The monitor beeped faster.

For a moment, the room went completely silent. I waited for the fog to clear from his gaze. I waited for the man I loved to come back to me.

Instead, Ethan reached out and slapped my phone out of my hand.

The device hit the linoleum floor with a sharp crack, the glass screen shattering into a spiderweb of jagged lines.

"Get away from me, you crazy bitch," Ethan spat.

The words sliced through my chest. I rocked back on my heels, gasping for air.

Two heavy-set security guards burst through the door, followed by a frantic nurse.

"Get her out of here," Ethan ordered, pointing a shaking finger at me. "She’s a stalker. If she comes within a hundred feet of me again, I am pressing charges."

"Ma'am, you need to step out," the taller guard said, grabbing my upper arm.

"Take your hands off me!" I thrashed against his grip, but he was far too strong. He hauled me to my feet, dragging me backward toward the hallway.

"Ethan! She’s lying to you!" I fought against the guard, my shoes slipping on the slick floor. "Chloe is lying! Check your own phone! Call your mother! Ethan!"

He didn't look at me. He turned his face into Chloe’s neck, burying his face in her shoulder as if I were a monster he needed protection from.

Chloe looked over his shoulder as the guards dragged me through the door frame.

She didn't look scared. She didn't look sympathetic.

She smiled. A slow, terrifying smirk that promised she was just getting started.

The heavy wooden door slammed shut in my face, cutting off my view of the man I was supposed to marry.

I stood alone in the hallway, staring at the closed door, the shattered pieces of my life scattered on the floor inside. Chloe had stolen his memories, and she was going to use them to destroy me.

But as I wiped the tears from my cheeks, a new, burning anger ignited in my chest.

She thought I would just walk away.

She was wrong.