Chapter 1

1.

The day he proposed for the twenty-third time was the day my fiancé “forgot” me.

I’m not being dramatic. It was real.

“Selective amnesia,” Dr. Patterson said, avoiding my eyes. “He remembers everyone. Except you.”

I stood outside Alex’s hospital room, a blizzard raging in my chest. The ultrasound photo in my hand―the one I was going to give him tonight―burned like a hot coal.

The door was ajar. I could hear her laughter from inside. Hannah, his so-called “childhood sweetheart.”

“Gently, babe,” Alex’s voice, so tender it was alien to me. “I’m still sore.”

I pushed the door open. He was on the bed, holding her hand. His eyes were clear, but the moment they landed on me, they went completely blank.

“Get out,” he said, pulling Hannah’s shoulder protectively, like she was his property. “I don’t know you.”

Just then, my phone buzzed. A text from Mark: “Clara, you need to know something―an hour before the crash, Alex ordered a ring for Hannah.”

So that was it. There was no amnesia. Just a meticulously planned escape.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just walked forward, right in front of her, and gently tucked the tear-soaked ultrasound report into the pocket of the pilot’s uniform hanging by his bed.

“You’ll remember,” I whispered.

As I turned to leave, I pulled out my phone and searched “women’s clinics in Seattle to schedule a procedure.”

Today was the day he “lost his memory.” It was also day one of the countdown to the end of my child’s life.

And tomorrow would be the day of my rebirth.

…

“You never loved Clara. What was the point of all this crap for the last five years?”

Hannah’s voice, whiny and flirtatious, drifted from the bedroom.

Alex pulled her closer.

“You know why. I promised I’d make you famous in the design world, didn’t I?”

“Her work is good. Worth milking for a few more years.”

“And now you’re a rising star. Thanks to those design sketches.”

A flicker of unease crossed Hannah’s face.

“What if Clara finds out? That plagiarism scandal was huge. If she―”

Alex unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the love bites on his neck, completely unconcerned.

“Relax. I framed her once. I can keep protecting you.”

“Even after this whole act, all it would take is one word from me, and Clara would still come running back.”

A cold glint flashed in his eyes.

“So what if she starts designing again? When I pushed her away last week, she was still begging me to remember her.”

I stood outside the door, the new wedding ring I’d commissioned digging painfully into my palm.