I had secretly married Simon for three years, but he had never publicly acknowledged me as his wife.

We were filming a travel variety show together this time, but he was all over that famous actress, Hannah Schmidt.

During truth or dare, the production team dared them to kiss and Simon didn't hesitate. He kissed Hannah profoundly and passionately as if they were the only two people in the room.

Simon rushed to Hannah immediately when the avalanche struck while I was buried under the heavy snow.

When I was finally rescued, I had forgotten entirely who Simon was.

It was then that Simon began to regret everything. He publicly announced our relationship to the world and even cried, begging me to remember him.

He didn't know the countdown to oblivion had started from the variety show.

***

As night fell, we set up tents and gathered around a campfire, waiting for the show crew's following arrangements.

Simon sat right next to Hannah, draping his jacket over her shoulders.

The two chatted as if no one was around and anyone could see they were a perfect couple.

When the truth or dare started, Simon lost.

The crew asked him, "Who's your ideal type here on set?"

Without hesitation, he pointed at Hannah. The two exchanged a glance and a smile, their chemistry palpable.

Seizing the opportunity, the staff and guests started chanting for them to kiss.

I stared at Simon, gripping the hem of my dress tightly. My palms were cold and clammy with sweat.

But Simon didn't seem to notice me. Perhaps he never cared about my feelings at all.

He rose and smiled, hooking his hand towards Hannah.

Hannah beamed. She jumped directly into his arms and they kissed passionately.

I was the only one who forced a smile, pretending everything was fine.

Simon pursed his lips in aftertaste as their kiss ended. His eyes were brimming with affection.

Just as my tears threatened to spill, I bowed my head.

I used to think he was cold and didn't express his emotions much, but now I knew he reserved his passion for someone else. Unfortunately, it’s never been for me.

My illness acted up again and my head was pounding.

I wondered if I would feel less pain if I stopped loving him.

After the recording, I found Simon, who would make the bed for Hannah.

He frowned slightly, his tone impatient. "What now? The kiss was just for the show. If you're overthinking it, that's on you."

I looked up at his face—the striking features I once adored. His sharp brows, high nose bridge and naturally upturned lips.

Everything I used to be so obsessed with, why did it suddenly become so uninteresting?

I didn't know if my voice was still trembling.

I said, "Simon, I will forget you in 23 days."

He smirked. "Here we go again, Claire. The same lie twice—do you think I'll fall for it? If you're sick, go get treatment. Don't threaten me."

After that, he turned and walked away without hesitation, leaving me alone.

His retreating figure overlapped with the memory of the boy I once knew, then slowly drifted apart.

In my memory.

I had once leaned against his chest and asked him, "Simon, I have a strange illness that makes me lose my memories every three years. If I forget you one day, what will you do?"

Simon hugged me tightly and gently kissed the top of my head as if I were a treasure.

"Then I'll stay by your side until you remember me again."

The mountain wind was fierce and cold, howling through the camp.

Because of the show's requirements, I wore a thin evening dress.

I couldn't help but think of the jacket draped over Hannah's shoulders earlier.

I never thought this wind could give me the courage to give up. With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and called my best friend.

"Bring me all the journals about Simon. I've decided to forget him."

"Really?"

My best friend, Wendy Yaleman, sounded thrilled on the other end of the call.

She had always advised me to get a divorce.

She said, "The moment you're unhappy, it's a sign this marriage has failed. He hasn't made your relationship public after all these years—does that even count as love?"

Back then, I knew deep down that Simon's actions were disrespectful.

But how did I defend him?

I told myself he was busy and his career came first, but reality slapped me.

In a survival reality show, he worked seamlessly with Hannah, calling her "my cutie pie" every chance he got.

Rumors about them were flying everywhere.

Wendy was right. I was not only a fool but also blind.

But I couldn't keep pretending when the truth stared me in the face. I was genuinely exhausted.

I nodded firmly. "Wendy, I appreciate it. But I want to burn those journals myself."

"No worries, I'll fly right over to your next shooting spot."

Her reply lifted a bit of the heaviness in my heart.

I kicked off my heels and trudged back to camp.

Although filming had wrapped, everyone was still up.

Some guests played chess while Hannah and Simon sat huddled together for warmth.

One guest teased, "No wonder everyone said Hannah turned down so many offers during the show. She's already taken!"

Simon didn't deny it. Instead, he pulled Hannah's hands into his lap and held them carefully.

Hannah blushed and buried her head into his chest.

The atmosphere turned cold immediately after I came back.

Someone mumbled softly.

"I saw Ms. Stevens called Mr. Ford away and she came back looking pretty down."

"She's that infamous third wheel, isn't she? Knowing full well his ideal type is Hannah, yet shamelessly clinging to him."

Hannah must have heard the murmurs because she couldn't hide her smug smile.

"Claire, want to join us by the fire?"

"No, tha—"

Before I could finish, Simon cut me off coldly.

"Don't come over. There's no place for you here."

I nodded calmly and was about to leave when he called me.

A hot water bottle was thrown into my arms when I looked back.

He didn't even glance at me, his expression icy as he returned to cuddling Hannah.

I stared at the hot water bottle, thinking about his public persona as a cold yet secretly warm-hearted "tsundere" film star.

He was just as committed to the role off-camera.

Clutching the hot water bottle, I went into my tent.

It felt like I'd been shut out of the world.

Outside, there was laughter and joy; inside, only silence and solitude.

I have amnesia—my memories reset every three years. Anything after the age of 20 slowly fades away. That's why I keep thick journals documenting my life over the years.

Half—no, more than half—of those entries are about Simon.

We dated for three years and were secretly married for another three.

The first time I told Simon I was on the verge of forgetting him, he was packing for a film shoot.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me. "Now's not the time for jokes. I know you can't bear to lose me. I'm doing this for our future."

A young, lively girl was always more interesting than someone as dull and insecure as me.

Hannah was the lead actress in that film. During the shoot, rumors about them started swirling.

The paparazzi even caught Simon sneaking into Hannah's hotel room late at night, claiming they were likely in a secret relationship.

After seeing the scandal, I called him to demand an explanation.

Simon replied calmly, "We were just discussing the script, Claire. If outsiders don't trust me, do you not trust me either?"

Love had become a weapon to destroy me. I loved him, so I stayed silent.

After a moment, my voice trembled despite my effort to sound steady. "I trust you."

But the voice that came through next wasn't Simon's.

"Honey, the food is all served. Aren't you coming?"

I was about to say something, but the sharp click as he hung up the phone felt like a physical blow.

Bitterness piled up in my throat and my chest felt tight with suffocating pain.

Sweet memories of us together raced through my mind.

On the last day of our three-year relationship, I bought a ticket to their movie premiere.

Watching them interact intimately on stage, they reenacted the iconic confession scene from the film.

The glasses I wore as a disguise fogged up with tears. A girl beside me noticed my quiet sobs and handed me a pack of tissues.

The tissues had pictures of Simon and Hannah printed on them.

"You think their love is touching too, right? They're really such a perfect match!"

Tears fell onto my journal as my memories blurred.

When I came back to my senses, I instinctively wiped the tear stains from my face and silently left with my journal in hand.

I flipped through my journal and recalled our memories when I got home.

When Simon returned, he casually drank the soup I had made. He smiled, saying, "So you haven't forgotten me after all? I knew you were trying to trick me into coming back earlier."

Even now, he still thought I was lying to him.

I gave a bitter laugh, curled up in my blanket and clung to the faint warmth of a hot water bottle.

The following day, the production team announced we'd move to Switzerland for the shoot.

My seat on the flight was next to Simon's.

Hannah looked at me with expectant eyes. She was just about to speak when I handed her my ticket.

"Let's switch seats."

She feigned hesitation and coyly replied, "Don't you want to sit next to Simon? Even if I'm not by his side, I believe our hearts are always together."

She looked at me with a challenging glint, eager to see my reaction.

As the deadline approached, I had gradually forgotten the good times we used to have and only remembered Simon's recent coldness towards me.

I responded flatly, "Oh."

"If you don't want it, I'll find someone else to switch with."

Unusually direct in public, Simon grabbed my arm and snapped, "Is that how much you don't want to sit with me?"

I had no idea why he was so upset.

Maybe it was because I'd hurt his pride?

Confused, I asked, "Do you want to sit with me? I thought you'd prefer to be with Hannah."

My words struck a nerve. Simon snatched my ticket and pulled Hannah close.

"Since you don't want to, then stay away from me for the rest of your life!"

I watched as he stormed off with Hannah, gripping her waist tightly.

My eyes stung, but my heart strangely didn't ache as much.

His final threatening words didn't carry much weight for me anymore.

During our free time in Switzerland, I bought a new journal.

I filled it with people and moments that truly mattered.

This time, Simon was omitted.

After boarding the program crew's bus, I looked out the window. The snowy landscape stretched endlessly, peaceful and serene.