My wife, Giselle Stone, has severe face blindness. She can't remember anyone's looks, including mine.

It's already a norm for her to chat with me animatedly one moment, then her illness kicks in, resulting in her mistaking me as a stranger the next.

Giselle screams at the top of her lungs as she fights with me over the steering wheel, causing me to crash the car at the side of the road.

As I lie in my puddle of blood, I beg her in a quivering tone to call 911.

But Giselle steps over my blood as she bolts over to the police.

"Officer, this man is a human trafficker! I don't know him! Please arrest him!"

Thank goodness I've already developed the habit of bringing my marriage license and Giselle's medical records with me all the time over the years.

After clearing the misunderstanding with the police, I deal with the damages and get my injuries treated before going home.

That's when Giselle blocks me at the front door while glaring at me vigilantly.

"Why are you here again? I don't know you! Please leave right now!"

When I'm about to explain, Giselle's childhood friend, Jasper Langley, steps out and wraps an arm around her shoulders.

"He's your husband, Giselle. Calm down now."

As I watch the pair hugging each other, I suddenly let out a soft chuckle.

We've been married for three years, and yet this is the 677th time Giselle doesn't recognize me.

The thing is, she can recognize Jasper every time and always listens to him.

In that case, I might as well let Jasper take care of her from now on.

"You're not my husband," Giselle Stone said. "Leslie isn't home yet. I don't know you. Just… leave!"

But I was right here in front of her. Regardless of how insignificant the change was, whether it was a different shirt or getting a new scar, she would easily fail to recognize me.

Just like earlier this afternoon, she accused me of being a human trafficker. When the police read the marriage certificate I presented, he looked awkward. "Ma'am, he's indeed your husband."

Giselle looked at me bewilderedly, then checked the photo on my ID again, perplexed. "I-I don't know him, though. He's not Leslie."

As she spoke, she stumbled backward, ready to flee. "I'm going to find my husband."

Honestly, I had gotten used to it. She had a condition, and it was only natural that she was cautious of everyone.

Yet, now, she was curling up against Jasper Langley's arms, her hands clutching his clothes. "Don't go, Jasper. You're the only one I recognize…"

So, she didn't have total face blindness. She could recognize Jasper. Out of everyone, he was the one she trusted and depended on, not me.

"Don't mind us, Leslie."

Jasper placed a hand on Giselle's shoulder and smirked. "Ever since her condition worsened, I've become the only person she trusts. I mean, we did grow up together. I hope you won't get jealous over…"

Before he finished, I walked past them. I could feel an arm reaching out, trying to hold onto my sleeve, but I didn't turn back around.

Frankly, Giselle and I should never have crossed paths. She was the heiress of a family of renowned doctors, while I was just a grunt in the fire department.

One lived a life of comfort and privilege, treated like royalty, while the other was covered in mud, crawling through ashes for a living.

Three years ago, a shopping mall caught fire. Everyone was running for the exits, but Giselle went the wrong way and ended up trapped in the flames.

When I carried her out through the thick smoke, she was trembling like a leaf. She kept asking who I was and where I was taking her. Her hands clutched onto me so tightly that she left long scratches on my skin.

Later, when the Stone family found me, I learned that she suffered from a severe case of prosopagnosia, commonly known as face blindness.

They saw that I was over six feet tall, strong, and that I had saved their precious daughter. So, they offered to pay for my younger sister's bone cancer treatment, on the condition that I marry Giselle.

To put it simply, I was hired as both her caretaker and her bodyguard.

But the treatment of my sister, Winnie Underwood, was something I couldn't afford, so whether I liked it or not, this marriage had been a transaction from the very beginning.

There was nothing to be sad over, really. I was just Giselle's caretaker and bodyguard.

My stomach was growling so badly that I felt dizzy. I went to the kitchen, hoping to find something to eat, when I froze at the almost-empty fridge door.

Where were my sticky notes?

After Giselle's condition flared, she would often feel anxious. She wouldn't know where she was or who the people around her were. Hence, every time I left home, I would stick a note on the fridge door.

I wrote what she should eat for lunch, which shelf the food was on, and how long to heat it in the microwave. I would also write, "It's me, your husband. Don't be afraid. I'm on duty today. Be home by 8:00 pm."

Whenever she panicked and searched around the apartment in a daze, seeing that note was the only thing that could put her mind at ease. For the past three years, I had written hundreds of them.

Before this, Giselle had thoughtfully kept all the notes in a small box. Now, every single one of them had been crumpled into a ball and thrown away with the kitchen waste.

A new sticky note was pressed onto the fridge door. The handwriting was unfamiliar and bold. "From now on, just ask me if you need anything. I'm the only one who'd never hurt you."

Signed off by Jasper.

Did he think I was dead, saying something like that to my wife while claiming his place so brazenly, in my very own home?

I clenched the note in my hand and stormed out of the kitchen, ready to confront him. The moment I stepped into the living room, I was stopped dead in my tracks.

Giselle sat on the couch, her face stained with tears. Jasper sat beside her, closer than I wanted to see.

"This world in front of me is so scary, Jasper… Everyone has the same face. I can't tell them apart. I really can't…" she sobbed, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, her voice growing quieter.

"You're the only one I can recognize. What am I supposed to do from now on?"

I stood at the entrance of the living room, like a useless piece of furniture. My mind went blank as I tried to figure out where everything had gone wrong.

In the beginning, Giselle's face blindness wasn't as severe as it was now.

Even when she couldn't recognize the person sleeping beside her, she was still beautiful and came from a wealthy family. Plenty of men would die to be with her.

So, I didn't think too much about it at first. I didn't dare to.

But every time I came home, Giselle would stand on her tiptoes and trace my face with her fingertips, trying to identify me. Then, she would lean closer, press the tip of her nose against my collar, and quietly sniff.

In almost a whisper, she would say, "It's you," before burying herself against my chest.

My heart melted at that exact moment.

However, things changed when Jasper returned to the country.

At that time, he gave us a new set of personal care products. Out of consideration for their longtime friendship, I couldn't bring myself to refuse and had only used them once.

Since that day, though, Giselle couldn't recognize me anymore. Even after I threw away the entire set and switched back to my old soap, she still avoided me like the plague.

Crying, she would say, "You're not him! Where's Leslie?"

So, what really happened?

My fists tightened and loosened as I locked eyes with Jasper. He looked at me provocatively, then intertwined his fingers with Giselle's. "I'm the only person you'll ever need to recognize, Giselle."

She sobbed softly without saying a word. Honestly, I was glad she didn't because I would've dreaded hearing her say "yes".

At that moment, my phone rang. It was my captain calling. There was an emergency, and I had to rush out. In the end, I fled like a coward, like a joke.

Once I left, Giselle stayed silent for a long time. She then shook her head through her tears and pulled her hand out of Jasper's palm.

"But you're not him. You smell like him, but you're not Leslie. You're not my husband," she said. "But where is he? Why hasn't he come home and seen me after so long?"

The sly smile on Jasper's face stiffened. His expression darkened for a brief second, only to be brightened with a fake, gentle facade. "You're so devoted to him, Giselle."

He sighed, saying casually, "But does he deserve it, though? I've noticed how he's always going to the hospital lately. He was with a young woman, looking very intimate. It's no wonder he's barely home nowadays."

Giselle froze, mumbling to herself, "Is that why I can't reach him lately?"

Her eyes reddened pitifully. "Didn't he promise me he'll take care of me forever? How could he abandon me to be with someone else?"

"I know, right? And he even hired someone to lie to you. He's a jerk," Jasper added, smiling discreetly. "Giselle, why don't you go see for yourself?"

With that, Giselle went to the hospital.

Winnie was staying in the oncology ward. Her hair had already fallen out completely. She had become so thin that she barely looked like the same person anymore. Her voice was hoarse, but her eyes were still bright.

"Les, the doctor said my numbers have improved a lot recently. Don't worry about me, okay? Now, why would you feel uneasy? Just focus on your work. And be careful out there, okay?"

After hanging up the phone, Winnie saw Giselle walk in. Her eyes lit up immediately. "Gigi! You came to visit me!"

She pulled two handmade yarn dolls from under her pillow, one blue and one pink. "These are for you and Les. I spent a long time making them."

She handed the pink one to Giselle with a smile, but the next second, a slap landed across her face. She clutched her cheek while the doll slipped onto the floor.

Tears brimmed in Giselle's eyes before they rolled down in beads. "Who are you to call me that, huh? Did you or did you not seduce my husband and get him so caught up that he wouldn't come home?"

Winnie was perplexed, but she quickly realized the situation and comforted Giselle instead. "Gigi, it's me. Don't you recognize me? I'm Winnie, Leslie's sister."

Giselle's eyes went blank for a moment.

Jasper chimed in timely with a tone full of certainty. "Don't believe her. They must've planned this. They're taking advantage of your condition and trying to fool you.

"Don't you remember, Giselle? Your family sent Winnie abroad to study a long time ago. Why would she be at the hospital?"

Winnie panicked. "No, Gigi. Listen to me—"

"That's enough!"

Giselle's expression turned cold again. She gestured for the nurse beside her to hold Winnie down.

"How long are you planning to lie to me? My sister-in-law and husband are both wonderful people. Who do you think you are, pretending to be her, you freak?"

One slap after another landed on Winnie's face. Her IV was ripped out, and blood oozed from the puncture wound, flowing down her wrist. She didn't fight back.

Instead, she held onto the two dolls she had spent forever making, protecting them desperately as she pleaded, "Gigi, please…"

"Shut up! A homewrecker like you doesn't deserve to stay in my family's hospital!" Giselle shrieked. "Throw her out right now!"

When a pair of nurses dragged Winnie out of the hospital, I happened to witness this horrifying scene after finishing work. "Winnie!"

Ever since I went out on the emergency call, I had an uneasy, gnawing feeling. I thought Giselle would, at most, throw a tantrum at me, but I never expected her to kick Winnie out onto the street.

Not to mention, her face was covered in slap marks, while blood still dripped from the back of her hand.

When Winnie saw me, she didn't cry. She simply smiled a little, raised the two wrinkled dolls in her hands, and took big, shaky breaths.

"Les, Gigi has done our family… a great favor. Please be more… understanding of her."

My foolish little sister. Even after all this, she was still worried about someone else.

"What the hell did Giselle do to you?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"Please, I'm begging you, stop defending her. I-I just got my bonus from the team. I-I'll transfer you to another hospital. We'll pay for your treatment ourselves. You don't have to put up with this anymore…"

I forced myself to hold it together several times before I finally stopped my voice from shaking. Then, I crouched down and carried her onto my back.

Winnie was frighteningly light. She rested against my back, her thin frame stabbing painfully against my shoulders. I transferred her to another hospital, got her IV started again, and stayed by her side until she fell asleep.

Only then did I return home. I didn't bother to be polite and kicked the door open.

"That was my sister, Giselle! Her name is Winnie! She has bone cancer, and your family promised to pay for her treatment!"

Giselle was sitting on the couch, drinking water, when I barged in. She frowned. "Nonsense. My parents sent her abroad to study a long time ago. And who are you? Why did you dig into my family's affairs?"