My Boyfriend’s Cheating Was Said to Cure My Amnesia

Tonight marked the twentieth time Adrian Vale had brought a woman home. She wore bold red lipstick and a sleek black cocktail dress designed to tempt, and she looked young, at least younger than me. I sat on the couch and watched them walk in, already wrapped around each other, kissing as if they couldn't get enough. He was supposed to be my boyfriend. And yet, I had no right to interfere. Because I was a patient. Adrian had told me before that I remembered nothing, that I couldn't survive without him. "You'll die." He painted the outside world as something dark and terrifying, but the look in his eyes when he said it carried nothing but threat. "Lillian, don't even think about leaving. I'll take care of you. You don't have to worry about anything." Yes, it was like keeping a pet. When he was in a good mood, I was his girlfriend; when he wasn't, I became something else entirely, just like now. He lifted the girl into his arms. As they passed by me, her eyes flicked toward me, filled with provocation. Strangely, she felt familiar. It didn't make sense. I had no memories, yet something about her tugged at me. And every time that feeling surfaced, the headache followed, as if something inside me was trying to break free. I stood and headed upstairs to rest, but halfway there, Adrian caught my wrist. "Head hurting again?" His tone made it sound like I was nothing but a nuisance. "Don't worry, Mr. Vale. I won't ruin your evening. I'll sleep in the guest room." Twenty-one days was enough to turn anything into a habit. Maybe my silent acceptance of Adrian was a sign that my heart had already given up. But the next second, that perfume-soaked embrace closed around me, lifting me off my feet and carrying me back to the bedroom. "Where does it hurt?" His hand pressed gently against my forehead, massaging in slow, familiar circles, just like he had done countless times before. Back then, Adrian and I weren't locked in a cold war. He was good at soothing people. From the moment I lost my memory to accepting him as my boyfriend, it had taken only ten days. I didn't resist his closeness. If anything, I welcomed it. Adrian was strikingly handsome, the kind of face you'd expect from a rising star on screen. The nurses used to gossip about him behind my back, saying he was the youngest CEO in the city, with countless businesses under his name. A man like that had once knelt beside my bed, cradling my face, his eyes filled with concern. "I'm sorry, Lillian. I came too late." In that moment, my heart had pounded like thunder, as if it wasn't the first time I had fallen for him. Even without my memories, instinct alone had been enough to make me love him. Now, his touch hadn't changed. But my heart had gone eerily still. "Shouldn't you be with your new girl?" His hand paused. "I'll go when you stop hurting." The conflict in Adrian's eyes was impossible to miss. "Is this pity, Mr. Vale?" I let out a mocking laugh. "Two years. And only now I realize what a brilliant actor you are." I closed my eyes, feeling the distance in his gaze as he withdrew his hand. I didn't dare look. I was afraid I would see disgust. "Lillian, even without your memory, you're still just as prickly as before." Then he left. So I used to be a hedgehog. My head throbbed even harder. As I watched his retreating figure at the door, fragments suddenly flashed through my mind. Once, in some bar, he had done the same thing, leaving me stranded in a corner while he walked away toward the flashing lights and the crowded dance floor. No matter how I begged, he never looked back, and for someone like Adrian, a born playboy, he had no right to call me prickly. My memories seemed to be coming back, little by little.