Chapter 2

Natalie

I hung up the phone and walked into the house.

The familiar scent of cedar and vanilla was still there, but the place felt dead. Hollowed out.

This was the home Elias had promised would be our sanctuary. Now, the gallery wall was bare. Our souvenirs from Greece were missing. Every trace of him—every trace of us—had been packed up and hauled away.

Even the birdcage was gone. He had taken our parrot, leaving only an empty seed dish behind.

I looked around the barren room and laughed bitterly.

He really thought of everything. Was he afraid the memories would hurt me, or did he think I'd snap out of it and ruin his wedding?

If he only knew.

I wasn't just a neuropharmacologist. I designed that drug. It didn't cause instant amnesia. It acted like battery acid, slowly eating away the emotional synapses until the person you loved most simply vanished from your mind.

And the best part? I never made an antidote.

When Elias realized I was gone for good, would his saintly conscience survive the guilt?

I pulled off my platinum wedding band. Taking out a piece of paper, I wrote a short note, slipped it all into an envelope, and shoved it deep behind a planter on the balcony.

Whenever Elias came home stressed from surgery, he would drink Scotch right here. If he ever looked for answers, he would find them.

My phone rang. It was Harper.

"Nat... are you sitting down?" she breathed heavily. "I'm at the hospital. I just saw Elias carrying Lydia like she's made of glass."

"I know," I said evenly. "Let him."

Harper sounded thrown. "Nat? Are you in shock? What's going on?"

I gave her the short version. The cancer. The seven-day wedding wish. The memory drug. We were divorced.

When I finished, Harper exploded.

"That narcissistic bastard!" she shouted, her voice shaking. "You gave up your research to run his lab! He built his career on your work! Now he drops you for Lydia, drugs you, and calls it mercy?! Where does he get the nerve?!"

A dull ache flared behind my ribs.

Six years ago, I cut ties with my family to marry Elias when he was a broke resident. I threw all my savings into his clinical trials. Back then, he held me and swore I was his whole world.

Now, his world was Lydia. And he expected me to just step aside.

Harper swore into the phone. "He's going to choke on his guilt, Nat. He doesn't know you made the drug, right? He has no idea there's no cure. Let him drown. Pack your things."

"I know," I said, glancing at the balcony. "I'm already gone."

At 2:30 a.m., the front door clicked open.

I walked out of the bedroom in my pajamas and found Elias digging through the walk-in closet, opening and slamming drawers.

"What are you doing?" I asked quietly.

Elias flinched. He spun around, quickly grabbing a scarf and tossing it around my shoulders.

"It's freezing," he chided softly, playing the caring friend. "Why are you up?"

I didn't touch the scarf. "What are you looking for, Elias?"

He cleared his throat, avoiding my eyes. "I... need to borrow the sapphire necklace. Lydia wants to wear it for the ceremony."

He looked at me quickly. "You probably forgot. The one from our wedding."

I stared at him. How could I forget?

That necklace was custom-made in Paris. Elias had spent six months on a waiting list back when he was broke. He obsessed over the design, engraving our wedding coordinates on the back. It cost a fortune, but it was physical proof that he loved me.

All because I once told him, I want a piece of jewelry that belongs only to us.

Now, he was tearing the house apart to put it on another woman's neck.

A cold laugh caught in my throat. "Does it have to be that one? Why that specific necklace?"

Elias hesitated. I remembered the morning he gave it to me, fastening it around my neck. "This is yours, Nat. Only yours."

Instead of showing guilt, his jaw hardened. "It's one-of-a-kind. Lydia saw a photo and loved it. It's her dying wish, Nat."

He stepped closer, softening his voice. "Don't look at me like that. I'll bring it back after the wedding. When we remarry, I'll buy you ten of them."

Nausea hit me.

On our wedding day, he never took his eyes off me. Afterward, he locked the necklace in its box, telling me, "You made this mean something, Nat. I'm protecting it."

Now, Lydia pouted, and he handed our history over on a silver platter. The symbol of our marriage was just a party favor to him.

"It's late," Elias said, snapping the velvet box shut. "Go to sleep. I have to get back to the clinic."

He didn't notice the dead look in my eyes. He pocketed the box and left.

When the door locked, I dropped the scarf on the floor. I looked at the stripped, empty closet.

It doesn't matter, I told myself. Once he clears out everything, it will all end.

I was discarded.

I suppose it was just as well. Once the drug ran its course, I wouldn't even remember to care.

Right on cue, a blinding pain spiked in my skull.

Deep inside my brain, another memory snapped and went totally dark.

And just like that, the lingering sorrow in my chest vanished.