Chapter 13

"Ethan, I used to dream about marriage. I thought I'd end up with someone dependable, someone steady and trustworthy. But I never imagined my husband would be like this." I paused, the words catching in my throat. "I'm not just disappointed in you. I'm disappointed in myself, too. I thought I knew how to love myself, but in the name of loving you, I let you hurt me. I became someone I don't even recognize anymore."

"Ever since I woke up with amnesia, I haven't felt an ounce of love or responsibility from you. You've been cold, dismissive… like I'm just a burden. Even if nothing happened between you and Olivia, so what? You didn't do your part as a husband. You let her hurt me, and you hurt me, too. I don't see a reason to keep pretending. Let's get divorced."

Everything I said came straight from the heart.

And for a split second, I saw something break in Ethan's eyes, like glass cracking behind the calm.

I turned around and walked away without looking back.

After that day, I shut out anything related to Ethan. Completely.

The people in our social circle, predictably fake and opportunistic, suddenly changed their tone. After Ethan publicly defended me, they started trying to cozy up again. But I wasn't interested. I kept my distance and focused on work, just waiting for Ethan to finally sign the divorce papers.

When the workday ended, I stretched at my desk, planning to invite Zack to dinner to properly thank him.

But the second I stepped outside, I spotted a sleek black car parked out front.

My coworkers started whispering, throwing glances my way.

I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. I forced a polite smile and walked past Ethan, who was leaning casually against the car like he owned the sidewalk.

He straightened when he saw me. "Aria."

His voice was soft, gentler than I'd ever heard it.

I sighed. "Did you bring the divorce papers?"

His smile faltered for a beat, but then he recovered, pulling out a massive bouquet of roses like some kind of old-school romantic hero.

"Do you like them?"

Gasps and excited murmurs rippled through the crowd.

I kept my face neutral, but my heart fluttered a little.

"I don't like roses," I said coolly. "I actually hate them."

But that was a lie, and I knew it the second the scent hit me. A strange warmth rose in my chest. I did like them. That surprised me. I remembered my younger self never cared for flowers. But this… this felt real.

People were watching, so I kept my expression blank. "Come on," I muttered, tugging his sleeve. "Let's talk somewhere private."

He took me to his car. Before I knew it, we were seated in a beautifully decorated restaurant.

"Have dinner with me," he said, eyes unreadable, tone low.

I frowned. "If I eat this meal with you, will you finally agree to divorce me?"

He was quiet for a moment. "If you don't eat with me, I won't."

I narrowed my eyes. "Fine. Your choice."

I picked up my knife and fork and began eating. The setup was textbook romantic, red wine, soft lighting, a candle flickering between us, flowers everywhere. It was more aesthetic than appetizing.

I ate quickly, dabbed my lips with a napkin, and stood up. "I'm done. I'm leaving."

He looked up at me, visibly upset. "Aria… do you not remember what today is?"

I hesitated. "What day?"

His jaw tensed as he gripped the utensils. A moment passed before he answered quietly, "It's our wedding anniversary."

My heart sank a little. "Oh."

I couldn't remember a single thing about how we used to celebrate. The date meant nothing to me now.

I kept my tone even. "That's nice. Let's just call this our last dinner together."

He didn't reply. Shadows flickered across his face, making his sharp features look even more sculpted, almost tragic.

I could tell he wanted to hold onto this, to fix things. But I didn't think our marriage was worth saving.

"Excuse me," I said. "I need to use the restroom."

I splashed cold water on my face, trying to steady myself. In the mirror, I stared at a version of me who still bore the bruises of the past. "Don't go back," I whispered to her. "You already walked away."

When I turned around, Ethan was standing there.

His eyes locked on mine, intense, desperate, filled with something raw and overwhelming.

"Aria… please remember."

Before I could react, he stepped forward. My back hit the cool wall behind me.

And then he kissed me, his arms wrapping around my waist, holding me still. I gasped into the kiss, my hands instinctively pushing against his chest.

But he didn't let go.

And for one wild moment… I didn't want him to.