Chapter 2

2.

Five years ago, I was framed for plagiarism. My entire career was destroyed. I locked myself in my apartment for three months, refusing to see anyone.

Back then, Alex took a leave of absence to stay with me. Every night, he’d hold me and say, “I believe in you. We’ll get through this.”

I thought it was love.

Now I know, while he was holding me, he was handing my designs over to Hannah, watching her climb to success over my dead body.

Twenty-three proposals. Each time, he’d say, “Impress me with a design. If I like it, maybe I’ll say yes.”

Twenty-three unique designs. Twenty-three rejections.

All for nothing.

I blinked, my jaw clenched so tight it ached. I couldn’t cry here. I wouldn't cry for him.

The ring in my hand slipped and fell to the floor with a sharp clink.

The door flew open.

Alex stared at me, his eyes filled with annoyance.

“What are you now, a stalker? This is pathetic, Clara. So pathetic.”

“I told you―I don’t know you! Hannah is my girlfriend! Stay the hell away from us, or I’m calling the cops!”

The love bites on his neck were a brazen display.

He knew. He knew that with “amnesia” as his shield, I’d eventually forgive him.

That’s why he was so shameless.

The man in front of me was a stranger. I looked at him and asked:

“Remember two years ago? When I was accused of plagiarism? You promised you’d find out who did it.”

Before I could finish, Hannah grabbed my arm and shoved me against the wall.

“He just got out of the hospital! Are you trying to kill him?!”

She was wearing his pilot’s jacket, smelling of jasmine and sandalwood.

He used to say he hated perfume. He never let me touch his uniform.

Turns out, he just hated me.

My cheek stung. I looked down, ready to pick up the ring and leave.

But Hannah snatched it first. She looked at the numbers engraved inside and laughed.

“Alex, look! Isn’t this the flight number from when you flew to Miami for my eighteenth birthday?”

Alex gently kissed her forehead.

“How could I forget? That was the night you wished you could be my wife.”

“One more month. And your wish will come true.”

That flight number. It was from my one-year anniversary trip to Miami with Alex.

I’d had a cardiac episode on the plane, and the medication he carried with him saved my life.

He’d said, “As long as I’m with you, you’re safe. I’m your lifeline.”

It turns out he was only in Miami to celebrate my anniversary as a side trip. The real reason was to celebrate Hannah’s birthday.