Chapter 1
“Mrs. Ford attempted suicide!” I awoke to a blinding white light. Before I could fully register my surroundings, a searing pain shot through my wrist. As consciousness returned, I heard a man speaking urgently nearby. He was on the phone, his back to me. “Mrs. Ford is in the hospital, Mr. Ford. Would you like to come?” A cold voice replied, “Is she dead yet? If not, stop bothering me!” The call ended abruptly, and the man sighed heavily. He turned, startled by my awakening. Approaching, he asked, “You’re awake, Mrs. Ford?”
“Mrs. Ford…?” I stared, confused. “Are you talking to me?”
“Don’t you recognize me?” His expression shifted. “I’m Bob, Bob Bilber, Mr. Ford’s assistant.”
“And…who’s Mr. Ford?” Bob frowned, his annoyance growing. “Mr. Ford is very busy. If your suicide attempt failed, amnesia won’t work either! Give up! Mr. Ford isn’t coming.”
My confusion deepened. I had no idea what he was talking about. Seeing my silence, he stepped closer, saying earnestly, “Mrs. Ford, you’ve been married to Mr. Ford for five years, creating a constant scene. You haven’t gained his love despite your efforts. Isn’t it time to reflect? Stop causing him trouble!”
His attitude made me uncomfortable, sparking an inexplicable aversion. Then, it hit me. “Did you just say…five years?”
I rushed to the bathroom and stared in the mirror. I was still me, though perhaps more mature, with a lingering hint of sorrow. Could everything Bob said be true? Was it really five years later? Was I truly married?
It turned out I was. Married for five years. It wasn’t time travel or a dream; it was amnesia. My memory was stuck at eighteen, my first year of college. Back then, I'd had a crush on a senior, Jonathan Ford—handsome, capable, from a prestigious family. Perfection, in my eyes. And now, I was his wife.
According to Bob, I'd married Jonathan at twenty. A flash marriage; we barely knew each other. I hadn't graduated, so we only registered the marriage, foregoing a wedding. Afterward, I learned Jonathan's heart belonged to his childhood friend, Alicia Zimmer—his “one that got away.”
As the unloved wife, I'd acted out, desperately seeking his attention. I only succeeded in making him resent me. His friends saw me as a joke, anticipating our divorce. Alicia ignored me completely, remaining the center of their social circle; my antics only fueled their amusement. Finally, I threatened suicide to force him to end his relationship with Alicia. He refused, telling me to go to hell. So, I attempted suicide. Then, I woke up.
The surreal experience felt unbelievable. Suicide for love? Unthinkable! By the time I processed everything, I was back in our master bedroom. The doctor declared me fine, so Bob sent me home. Before leaving, he offered both advice and a warning: cause no more trouble.
Staring at the enormous villa, my desire for a tantrum vanished. The sheer wealth was stunning. The walk-in closet alone was larger than my old apartment! Wide-eyed, absorbing the luxurious bedroom, I heard movement at the door. I turned, meeting Jonathan’s cold, dark gaze.