My Wife Faked Amnesia to Cheat, So I Left Her With Nothing

While my wife was away on a business trip, I received a text from an unknown number: "Your wife is cheating on you." When I rushed to the hotel where she was staying, I found no trace of an affair. Instead, a fire broke out in the middle of the night, and my wife fell into a coma from smoke inhalation. When she finally woke up in the hospital, her memory was scrambled—she mistook her young assistant for her husband. Consumed with guilt, I spent months searching the globe for specialists to treat her. Just when I finally got in touch with a renowned German neurosurgeon and prepared to take her abroad, I overheard her talking to her best friend. "Vivian, you're a genius. Not only did you keep him from catching you, but faking amnesia lets you stay with Scott completely out in the open." "Still, I heard he found a world-class specialist. Aren't you afraid he'll find out?" Vivian let out a light laugh. "When he actually brings the doctor over, I'll just say a miracle happened and I recovered." "At least for now, I'm finally free." "Honestly, you should find yourself a twenty-year-old toy boy, too. Unlike those middle-aged men, he doesn't tap out in bed after thirty minutes." I froze where I stood, a sharp pain piercing my chest. I pulled out my phone and dialed her biggest rival. "Nicole, aren't you looking for a partner? I'm ready to fund your new firm." Right after I hung up, Vivian walked out of Scott's apartment. Ever since her supposed memory loss, she had moved in with him. No matter how much I begged, she had refused to come home. "Why are you here again?" Vivian snapped, her face tightening with irritation. "I already told you, I don't know who you are. Scott is my husband." I caught the brief flicker of panic in her eyes. "Fine. I get it." My voice was calm as I turned to leave. "Wait!" Her expression darkened, and she stepped forward to block my path. "Were you eavesdropping outside the door just now?" I noticed a button missing from her blouse, revealing faint hickeys across her collarbone. My heart twisted with dull agony. It seemed she had spent a passionate night with Scott. A bitter smirk pulled at the corner of my mouth. "What do you think I could have heard?" Catching me looking at her chest, she hurriedly covered herself with her hands. "What are you staring at? I'm allowed to be intimate with my own husband! Don't you dare start throwing another fit." Of course. Scott was younger, fitter, and clearly kept her satisfied. Yet after ten years of marriage, how could my heart accept this so easily? The medical appointment slip slipped from my trembling fingers and fluttered to the floor. Vivian glanced at it, her brow furrowing deeply. "I told you, I'm not sick! Why do you keep pushing me to see doctors?" "My husband and I are doing great. Can you just back off, you old creep, and stop stalking me?" "Fine. I won't bother you anymore." I lifted my chin, forcing myself to look her in the eye. "Regardless of whether you believe it, we are legally married. If you want this over, we need to file for divorce." Hearing the word "divorce," Vivian's face shifted, but she quickly shot back: "Are you insane? I'm not even your wife, so how could I divorce you?" "Once your memory returns, we'll sign the papers immediately," I replied coldly, turning to walk away. Just then, Scott returned and blocked my way. "Hey, old man! What are you doing here again?" Scott barged in and slammed a fist hard into my chest. My vision went black. With a choked gasp, all strength left my limbs, and I collapsed heavily onto the floor. "Oh, babe, don't be so reckless!" Vivian rushed to steady Scott, checking his knuckles with sweet concern. "If you actually hurt him, the cops might take you in. I can't bear being away from you for even a single day." She ignored me entirely as I lay helpless on the ground. Yet years ago, if I ever felt slightly unwell from working late, Vivian would cry her eyes out and sit by my bedside all night. "Julian, you have a bad heart. Please be careful, or you'll break mine..." "Hey, old man, stop playing dead on the floor!" The agony in my chest tightened, suffocating me. I curled into a ball, cold sweat soaking through my shirt. The chill of death crept over me. "Still faking it? Don't tell me you actually expect us to believe you're having a heart attack." Scott sneered and kicked me ruthlessly in the chest a couple of times. "Ah—!" Hearing my choked cry of pure agony, Scott smirked with satisfaction. "See, Vivian? He's yelling loud and clear. He's totally faking." A flash of unease crossed Vivian's face. "Why did you kick him? He really has... he could actually die!" Scott softened his tone, whining like a pampered child. "Babe, I just hate seeing him harass you. Don't worry, I didn't kick him that hard. He won't die." Vivian let out an exasperated sigh. "You... your possessiveness is going to be the death of me." She turned back toward me, her gaze filled with pure disgust. "Hey, if you're done acting, get up. My husband is fragile—how hard could he have possibly kicked you?" She was certain I had no idea about her little game. I tried to speak, but a violent spasm tore through my chest. "Help... Vivian... please... hospital..." "Stop with the drama! He barely tapped you—" Vivian's impatience was palpable, but as she took in my graying face and blue lips, she froze. Panic finally set in. She dropped to her knees, frantically patting down my pockets for my medication. "Don't... don't scare me! I'm... my head cleared, I remember who you are now! I'm taking you to the hospital right now!" Even in this moment, she couldn't drop the act. Darkness rushed in, and I passed out from the excruciating pain.When I woke up, I was in a hospital room. My heart was still beating. I was still alive. The door pushed open, and Vivian walked in holding an insulated food container. She took my hand, her eyes swimming with tenderness and worry. "Julian, you terrified me." "I made your favorite seafood chowder. Let me feed you a little." I stared at her, an ache settling deep in my chest. The one who loved seafood chowder was Scott. I was deathly allergic to shellfish. Meeting my flat, hollow stare, Vivian's hand paused imperceptibly. "Julian? Are... are you still mad at me?" "I'm so sorry. Yesterday afternoon was all my fault. My mind was foggy again, and I mistook Scott for you." Her face brimmed with regret, tears welling in her eyes. In the past, my heart would have ached for her, and I would have pulled her into my arms to comfort her. Now, watching her clumsy performance only felt pathetic. "I'm firing him right now. I'll make sure he's thrown out of the company forever." With that, she immediately dialed her secretary. I watched her silently, not a ripple in my heart. She had pulled this stunt before. And what happened? She fired him in the morning and rehired him by the afternoon. It was exhausting just watching her. Lying there, a chill settled into my bones. I couldn't stop myself from asking: "Vivian, do you still love me? Are you hiding anything from me?" She stiffened for a second, then leaned down to gently brush her lips against mine, her voice resolute: "Of course I love you. If I didn't, my memory wouldn't have snapped back in time to rush you here. But Julian... why would you think I'm keeping secrets from you?" Hearing the subtle caution in her voice, I offered a faint, hollow smile. "Nothing. Just asking." "Come on, we've been married for ten years. Stop overthinking and get some rest." "I promise I'll stick to my treatments. I won't ever forget you again." She tucked my blanket in, turned, and left the room. I closed my eyes in utter exhaustion. Ten years of devotion couldn't hold a candle to a cheap thrill. Since she didn't value what we had, this marriage was truly over. By the time the morning sun washed over the room, I stood by the window to catch some warmth. On a bench downstairs, Vivian was wrapped in Scott's arms, kissing him passionately. The man she swore to fire hadn't even stayed gone until noon before she brought him right back. It didn't matter. In five days, I would be leaving for good. ... A bucket of ice-cold water shocked me awake. As I opened my stinging eyes, I was met with Vivian's ferocious glare. "What is your problem, you pathetic old man?!" "You pissed my husband off so badly his heart condition flared up! Do you know he almost didn't make it in the ER?" "It looks like you won't learn until someone beats some sense into you." Two burly bodyguards stepped into the room, holding stun batons. Before I could react, they dragged me roughly out of bed. I glanced out the window; the evening sun was glowing golden. It was already late afternoon. They dragged me down the hall and forced me onto my knees before Scott. "Don't be scared, babe," Vivian said gently to Scott. "I'm going to have them beat him black and blue so you feel better." Before the words completely left her mouth, a baton slammed into my ribs. A bloodcurdling scream tore from my throat as violent convulsions wracked my body. How could I have forgotten? Back when I simply gave Scott a mild verbal warning at the office, Vivian had fired me on the spot. She had even ordered guards to keep me kneeling in Scott's office for an entire day before she finally let it go. Currents of electricity ripped through my flesh, jolting straight into my failing heart. Agony flared in every nerve. I couldn't take it anymore. Broken and desperate, I wept and begged on the cold tiles. "Vivian, I was wrong! I shouldn't have provoked him! I didn't know he had a heart condition! I'm sorry, please... please let me go!" Clutching my chest, I crawled toward her feet. She kicked me aside with disgust, the sharp point of her high heel grinding hard against my fingers. "Still lying! Everyone in the company knows my husband has a weak heart and can't be stressed. How could you not know?" A sharp, tearing agony exploded inside my chest again. Suddenly, I didn't want to fight it anymore. The woman who once loved me with all her soul was now watching me gasp for air like a dying stray on the floor. My vision darkened, and my pulse slowed to a crawl. Just when I thought they would beat me to death right there, Vivian finally raised a hand. "That's enough for today. Try something like this again, and I won't let you off so easily!" With that, she turned and walked away with her men, leaving me splayed out across the freezing floor. Passersby looked down at me with contempt and open ridicule. "Serves him right! An old homewrecker trying to break up a sweet couple. He knew the guy had a weak heart and still picked a fight—pure evil." "Those two are such a gorgeous match, too. I heard she just found out she's pregnant."I lay there, numbly enduring the kicks and curses from strangers. None of them knew. I was Vivian's lawful husband. And the baby in her womb was the bastard of a home-wrecking assistant. Dragging my battered, broken body along the wall, every shred of hope inside me withered to ash. Gathering my last bit of strength, I hobbled back toward my room, only to see Vivian delicately peeling a pear for Scott. The dying sunset streamed through the window, outlining their intimate silhouettes. The sight burned my eyes. "Vivian, don't cut the pear in half," Scott whined playfully. "I want us to share everything whole." Vivian laughed softly, setting down the paring knife with utter devotion. "Alright, alright, no splitting pears. We're never separating." She cooed over him like a doting mother. Yet years ago, Vivian had said something entirely different to me. "Julian, a pear is just fruit. Where do you get all these ridiculous superstitions? We are never splitting up, see?" Back then, she had popped a slice into my mouth with a mischievous grin. "If that old myth were true, wouldn't we be doomed?" As it turned out, her words had become a curse. I pulled my gaze away and looked at her with flat, empty eyes. "Vivian, let's get a divorce." Her hand froze as she wiped the fruit juice away. Avoiding my eyes, she spoke with her usual cold condescension: "Are you sick in the head?!" "I never married you! What divorce?" She wrinkled her nose in disgust, treating me like filth on the sidewalk. Scott jumped in right on cue: "Exactly! Look at yourself. Why would Vivian ever look twice at a loser like you? You must be delusional!" He turned to Vivian, adopting a worried, persuasive tone: "Vivian, ignore him. Creeps like him are just rotten to the core." Hearing his words, the panic in Vivian's eyes seemed to settle strangely. "Enough!" She glared at me sharply. "Why are you still standing there? Get lost! You're filthy!" She was completely certain that I loved her too much to ever leave. To her, my mention of divorce was just an empty threat born of petty jealousy. But my heart was already dead. Early the next morning, Vivian entered my hospital room. She dropped to her knees beside my bed, her trembling hands cautiously touching the bruises and cuts across my chest. "Julian, I'm so sorry... My mind slipped again yesterday..." "I contacted the best cardiothoracic surgical team in the world. They reviewed your charts, and they said they can do a heart transplant for you..." Her fingertips trembled slightly, as if fighting back overwhelming emotion. "Don't be scared. Once you get a healthy heart, everything will be okay." "I know my condition made you suffer so much... I'll order someone to beat Scott up right now to make it up to you, okay? Please don't leave me..." Her tears fell onto the back of my hand, cold and hollow. "Without you, I'd die..." The morning light illuminated her red-rimmed eyes and devoted gaze. I slowly lifted a hand to touch her cheek. "Really?" My voice was raspy and parched. Vivian's eyes flared with hope, and she spoke eagerly: "Really! Julian, trust me! I'm scheduling the surgery for today!" I didn't dare believe her. This heart, struggling for every beat, had already been sliced to ribbons by her lies and betrayal. None of it mattered anymore anyway. I would be gone soon. Clinging to a faint wisp of numb detachment, I fell unconscious. When I opened my eyes again, harsh surgical lights blinded me. Outside the glass partition of the operating room, Scott had his arms wrapped around Vivian, his face painted with smug malice. "Vivian, I told you he wouldn't give up. He actually dared to steal my spot for the heart transplant." He pulled her closer by the waist. Vivian tilted her head and affectionately kissed the corner of his mouth. When she turned back toward me, her eyes were frozen with venomous spite: "Since you're so ungrateful, you need to pay the price..." "Prep him. Replace his heart with an artificial one. That rotten heart of his is nothing but trouble anyway." My mind went completely blank. She was never trying to save me. She was stripping away my last remaining shred of life. When I woke up two days later, an alien pulse beat inside my chest. It wasn't the warm, rhythmic thumping of flesh and blood. It was a cold, mechanical hum. A constant reminder that my heart had been carved out, replaced by a piece of freezing metal. That evening, Scott strutted into my room, his face dripping with cruel triumph. "Well, well. Look who's awake." "Look at you, pathetic wretch, breathing through a hunk of scrap metal." "Oh, by the way, did you know? Vivian took that ruined heart of yours and fed it to the dogs." He leaned down, his breath warm against my ear: "She said the stray dogs tore into it like rotten meat... Julian, don't you get it? Vivian only loves me!" "If you have any dignity left, get the hell out. I'm taking your place completely. I'll be the only man in her life." Looking at his arrogant, sneering face, a wave of dark absurdity washed over me. It turned out he didn't know either. He had no idea Vivian had been faking her amnesia all along. It didn't matter. Everything was finally coming to an end. The next morning, I boarded an international flight bound for Europe. At that very moment, in a luxury penthouse downtown, Vivian received a call from her best friend. "Vivian! Julian knows your amnesia was an act!"Chloe's panicked voice hit Vivian like a thunderbolt. She had been lounging lazily in Scott's arms, enjoying a quiet breakfast. At those words, she froze instantly, every drop of color draining from her face. "...What? Wh-what did you just say?!" Her voice shook uncontrollably, an icy dread creeping up her spine to the crown of her head. "Just this morning! Julian... he took the earliest flight out of the country! I had someone check—he's on a flight to Zurich! And he told me to give you a message..." Chloe's voice trembled with disbelief and a faint hint of pity. "He said to stop acting. He knew everything all along. He said... he's played his part in your little game long enough, and now, you two are even." Clatter— The porcelain mug slipped from Vivian's fingers, shattering against the floor as dark coffee bloomed across the expensive rug. Her mind roared with white noise. Her chest tightened as though an invisible hand were crushing her lungs, making it impossible to breathe. "How... How could he know...?" She stared blankly into space, her lips trembling. "Julian loved me so much... He would never leave me... There must be..." "It has to be a misunderstanding, right?" Scott chimed in quickly, wrapping his arms around her to soothe her. "Don't panic, Vivian! He must've fallen for some stupid rumor. I'll track down where he went in Switzerland right now, drag him back, and let you explain everything!" "Drag him back...?" Vivian shoved Scott away violently, her bloodshot eyes drilling into him like daggers. "Explain? Explain what?! Explain that I faked brain damage just to screw around with an intern behind his back?! Explain that I trampled his entire life under my feet, ripped out his real heart, and shoved a cold machine into his chest?!" Scott paled at her sudden hysteria. "Vivian, you..." "Get out! Get the hell out of my sight!" Like a cornered, rabid animal, Vivian shrieked and pointed toward the door. "This is all your fault! If it weren't for you—" "Vivian, listen to me!" "GET OUT—!!!" She snatched a crystal vase from the console and hurled it at him, glass exploding against the wall. Terrified, Scott scrambled on all fours and bolted out the door. A tidal wave of panic crashed over Vivian. She stumbled toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring at the endless flow of traffic below, her head spinning sickeningly. Julian was gone... He really left! He knew everything! He threw her away! This wasn't a rash decision. He had planned his escape down to the minute! He had even timed his departure right after the surgery, vanishing the moment he could stand! A thousand questions and suffocating regrets tore at her soul. When did he find out? Was it outside the apartment? Or even earlier? Why didn't he ever say a word? When he was lying on that freezing hospital floor, taking kicks from strangers while watching her put on a show... Were his eyes already stripped of love, left with nothing but silence and contempt? On the operating table, when he heard her casually discard his heart, ordering them to carve it out... Just how badly had she broken him? And now, with that cold artificial heart humming in his chest, reminding him every single second of how his wife betrayed him... How much agony had he endured? "No... He can't leave... I have to bring him back... He'll forgive me... We have ten years together..." Muttering like a lunatic, her trembling hands frantically dug through her contacts until she found Marcus's number. He was Julian's closest confidant and an old college friend of hers. "Marcus! Marcus, please help me! Julian left! He knows everything! Tell me where he is! Where did he go?!" The moment the call connected, Vivian broke into frantic sobs. Silence lingered on the other end for a long moment before Marcus's cold, exhausted voice came through: "Vivian, are you finally done playing the fool?"