The Vengeful Amnesia

"I cheated on you." Caspian kept his eyes locked on the road. We were driving back from the courthouse, our new marriage license resting between us.

He lifted a hand from the steering wheel and pointed straight at the passenger seat beneath me.

The corners of his mouth pulled up into a slow, merciless smirk. "She sat right there yesterday and kissed me. She was dressed so damn sexy.

I couldn't hold back, so I slept with her." A second betrayal. The air vanished from the car. I sat paralyzed. My throat locked up. Not a single sound could scrape its way out.

The deafening roar of blood rushed through my ears. My fingernails bit into my palms until the skin nearly broke.

Beside me, Caspian licked his bottom lip, his gaze distant as if savoring the taste of the memory. "I actually get Simon now.

Kendall really is more of a woman than you." Simon was my exhusband. Kendall was the woman I used to call my best friend.

Five years ago, I caught them tangled together in my own bed. When my entire world burned down to ash, Caspian was the one who pulled me out of the wreckage.

But now, he had just gutted me for the exact same woman. Chapter 1 Invisible fingers wrapped tightly around my throat, choking off my air.

It took a long, agonizing moment before I could force the words past the blockade. "Why?" If you were sleeping with her, why still drag me to the courthouse today?

Why wait until the absolute happiest moment of my life to rip it all away? Caspian blinked.

Then, a loud, sharp laugh erupted from his chest. "You win." I stared at him, my mind blank.

A sickeningly familiar voice crackled through the car's Bluetooth speakers. [ "Then you have to use that strawberry flavor I like tonight~" ] My eyes blew wide.

Ice water injected straight into my veins, freezing my blood instantly. "Kendall and I made a bet on how you'd react when you found out," Caspian said, leaning back into his seat. "I said you'd slap me.

She said you'd just ask why." He popped a brow, his expression casual. "If I won, she'd wear that black lace set. If she won… Well.

You heard her." The speakers crackled again. [ "Cleo, five years later and you're exactly as pathetic as I remembered. But your taste in men? Still flawless.

I really like this one, too." ] Her mocking laughter drove pins and needles through my numb limbs. The car vanished. The road vanished. I was slammed right back into five years ago.

Coming home from a business trip two days early. Sneaking in to surprise my husband, Simon, for his birthday.

Pushing open the bedroom door only to find him and Kendall pinned against the bay window, wrapped around each other. Simon had frozen like a deer in headlights.

But Kendall just reached over, flicked a lighter, and lit a cigarette with a satisfied smirk. "Sorry, Cleo. Being single gets boring.

I just needed to borrow your husband for a bit." I had stood there, just like I was sitting here now. Tears streaming down my face. Asking her.

Asking him. "Why?" They had scrambled to answer, their mouths moving frantically, but it was like someone had shoved thick cotton deep into my ears.

All the sound bled out of the room. The world only snapped back when their faces drained of color and they started screaming.

A searing, whitehot agony ripped through my lower abdomen, folding me in half. I looked down. Hot, thick blood soaked my thighs, dripping onto the hardwood.

In one afternoon, I lost the three most important people in my life. My best friend of ten years. My husband of one year.

And the threemonthold baby growing inside me. "Alright, I know you're obsessed with me.

See you tonight," Caspian said into the dashboard mic, snapping the nightmare in half. "I'm dropping Cleo off at home first." He tapped the screen, cutting the call.

The dial tone died, leaving only the ragged, shallow sound of my own breathing echoing in the confined space. Caspian broke the silence first. "You must be hungry.

Let's grab your favorite cake from that bakery before I take you home." His tone was buttersoft. Unbothered. Like the last five minutes had never happened.

It only made my bloodshot eyes and uncontrollable shaking look like the punchline to a sick joke. "Caspian, why the hell would you do this?" My voice shredded against my throat. "You promised you'd protect me for the rest of my life." Hot, pathetic tears spilled over my lashes, tracking down my cheeks.

But this time, he didn't reach out. He didn't gently wipe them away with his thumb like he always did.

Chapter 2 He leaned back into his seat, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "Cleo, if you had picked me the first time around, maybe I really would have cherished you for the rest of my life.

But now? You're damaged goods. "Why exactly should I keep my bed warm just for you?" He offered me a tissue, holding it out like a scrap of charity.

I slammed my back against the passenger door, staring at him like he had just grown horns. The four of us went to college together.

Years ago, he and Simon both confessed their feelings for me on the exact same day. I chose Simon.

Caspian smiled, offered his polite congratulations, and I kept my distance from him after the wedding. Right up until Simon's affair. The betrayal broke me.

I ended up in a bathtub with a razor to my wrist. And Caspian… Caspian broke down my door like some kind of avenging angel.

He pulled me out of the blood, out of hell, and stitched me back together.

The memory of that warmth twisted the knife deeper into my gut. "If it bothered you that much," I choked out, "then why did you come after me?

Why did you stay with me?" Caspian met my eyes and let out a long, heavy sigh. "I thought I didn't care.

But then we started planning the wedding." He gave a frustrated, almost boyish chuckle. "You were just too good at it, Cleo. You knew exactly how to haggle with the photographer.

You knew to buy a cheap replica ring for the ceremony so the real one wouldn't get lost.

Hell, even today at the courthouse, you didn't even have to look up the dress code…" The playful edge vanished from his face.

The temperature in the car plummeted. "Every single thing you did shoved it right in my face. It reminded me that I'm marrying another man's leftovers.

I couldn't stomach it, Cleo." Tears pooled, blurring my vision.

With my sight gone, his voice only amplified in the tight space. "But I do love you." Caspian's tone was smooth as glass. "So, you were married to Simon for a year.

I get to play around for a year before I settle down and play house. That's fair, isn't it?" Warm fingertips brushed against my cheek. I blinked hard.

A tear broke loose and splattered heavily against the back of Caspian's hand.

He jerked his arm back like he'd been burned. "Fair?" I shoved his hand away. "If you cared, you should have told me!

You don't get to save my life just to stab me in the back!" My chest heaved, my lungs burning with every ragged breath. "Caspian, I want a divorce." The words tore out of my throat, bringing up the metallic taste of blood.

He didn't flinch. He just sat there, watching me pant and shake under his cold, calculated gaze.

He waited until the silence stretched tight before delivering his verdict. "We're legally married. Fair doesn't matter anymore." He leaned closer. "A divorce?

Get that out of your head right now. You can either swallow this and accept it, or you can choke on it. But you will endure it." Click.

Caspian reached across my lap and popped the passenger door open. He planted a flat palm against my shoulder and shoved. "You're killing my mood.

Take a walk and think about your attitude." The sky had just dumped a torrential downpour. I hit the asphalt hard, my palms skidding into a puddle of thick, icy mud.

The wet concrete offered zero traction. My knees slipped. My boots spun. The harder I fought to stand, the heavier gravity pulled me back down into the dirt.

Through the open car door, Caspian watched me from his heated leather seat. His face was unreadable. "You see that, Cleo?" I stopped fighting the mud and looked up at him.

A dry scoff escaped his lips. "I don't help you, and you can't even get off your knees. You divorce me, where exactly are you going to go?" He didn't wait for an answer.

The heavy door slammed shut. The engine roared, tires squealing against the wet pavement as the car launched forward.

A spray of gritty, freezing mud plastered across my face, blinding me. As the world faded to black, the past five years flashed behind my eyelids in a rapid, nauseating montage.

Right after the divorce with Simon, the betrayal dragged me into severe clinical depression. I couldn't stop hurting myself.

If I dragged a blade across my arm once, Caspian would find out and cut his own arm twice.

When the insomnia hit and I stared at the ceiling for weeks, Caspian hired a crew to rip the roof off his mansion.

He installed a massive skylight, just so he could hold me in the dark and count the stars until sunrise.

When the anxiety closed my throat and I couldn't swallow food, he locked the fridge and starved right alongside me.

Chapter 3 After a year of that suffocating darkness, the fog finally began to lift. I started to trust him again.

The day he proposed, he dropped to one knee and swore on his life that he would never, ever betray me. I bought it.

Now, barely twelve months later, that promise had already rotted away. Blinking the wet grit from my eyelashes, I planted my palms against the freezing asphalt and shoved myself up.

My limbs felt heavy and uncoordinated. A group of teenagers passing by pointed at my muddy clothes and snickered. Heat rushed to my cheeks.

My chest tight, I scrambled to the curb and wildly waved down a passing cab. A driver actually pulled over.

He eyed the mud dripping from my jacket and agreed to take me, but only if I paid fifty bucks upfront to cover a cleaning fee. I nodded frantically.

But when I tapped my card against his terminal, the screen flashed red. Frozen. Zero available funds.

The second his tires peeled away, leaving me on the curb, the sky ripped open again. The freezing rain pelted my skin, stinging like needles. I don't know how long I walked.

When I finally reached the house I shared with Caspian, I shoved the front door open. My brain flatlined.

A pair of familiar black stilettos sat tangled with Caspian's expensive leather oxfords on the rug.

A discarded black suit jacket and a scrap of black lace underwear trailed across the floorboards. Against the bay window, Caspian had Kendall pressed tightly against the glass.

Their mouths were fused together. The timeline shattered. The nightmare of five years ago slammed into the present. A jagged, broken gasp tore out of my throat. My knees buckled.

Tremors hijacked my limbs until I couldn't feel my own fingers. The sound broke them apart. Caspian turned his head.

A dark crease formed between his brows. "What are you making a scene for?

It's not like you haven't seen this before." Kendall leaned back against the glass, letting out a sharp, amused laugh. "Long time no see, Cleo. I misspoke on the phone earlier.

Caspian is way better in bed than your ex ever was." Her words smoothed the crease right out of Caspian's forehead. "You always did have good taste," he murmured.

He pushed off the glass and started walking toward me. With every step he took, the tremors in my bones multiplied. He reached a hand out to grab my arm. My stomach rebelled.

I doubled over. Acid burned up my esophagus, and I dryheaved onto the hardwood floor. The smell of rain. The sting of bile. The sharp, ragged gasp of my own lungs.

Caspian's hand stopped dead in midair. His entire frame went rigid.

A dangerous, heavy silence flooded the room. "Cleo." His voice dropped to a lethal whisper. "You think I'm disgusting?" I couldn't draw enough air to answer.

The sheer exhaustion was melting the marrow in my bones. A muscle jumped in Caspian's jaw.

He closed the distance, his hands grabbing the wet collar of my shirt and yanking me upright.

His knuckles dug into my collarbone. "You forced my hand, Cleo." The temperature in his eyes plummeted to absolute zero. "I was going to let this go after tonight. But now?

Now I'm going to make sure you swallow every single drop of my misery." He shoved me back and turned his head, gesturing to Kendall. "The wedding is still on.

But Kendall is wearing the dress." Kendall let out a delighted squeal and practically threw herself against his chest. "Are you serious?

Then I want Cleo as my bridesmaid. "I stood at the altar for her five years ago. It's only fair she returns the favor." "Done. She can be your bridesmaid.

She can hand us the rings." Caspian kept his eyes dead locked on mine. Every word he dropped felt like a physical blow, fracturing my ribs. I stared at him, my vision swimming.

I tried to scream. I tried to refuse. But my vocal cords were shredded. I could only shake my head in frantic, pathetic denial. Caspian tilted his head.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward into a cruel smirk. "Hurts, doesn't it? Feels like you're dying?" He leaned in close. "Good.

That's exactly how I felt five years ago when you married someone else." I stared at the tight, twisted lines of his face. The fog in my head abruptly snapped away.

He didn't want fairness. He didn't want closure. He just wanted to watch me bleed the exact same way he did. The louder I shattered, the more validated he felt.

I dragged my hand up to my chest, pressing flat against my sternum. The manic heartbeat beneath my ribs was slowing down, freezing over into solid ice.

I pulled my lips into a thin, hollow line. "No." I dropped my hand. "I don't hurt, Caspian.

You just make me sick to my stomach." His jaw clenched so hard a vein popped against his temple. The air in the room instantly turned toxic.

Chapter 4 He let go of Kendall and hauled me toward the stairs. I thrashed, kicking and clawing, but his grip was iron.

He paused at the master bedroom, then kicked open the guest room door and shoved me inside. I lunged for the door, my fingers scraping the wood. "Let me out!" The lock clicked.

I was a second too late. Caspian's voice came through the door, cold and sharp. "Nauseated, are you? Get ready, Cleo. "It's about to get a lot worse.

Kendall, get up here." My blood turned to slush. I stood frozen, the chill seeping into my bones. Then, the sounds started through the thin wall. Wet, rhythmic kisses.

Kendall's moans pierced the silence, sharp and intentional. "You're so bad, Caspian," she whimpered. "Making Cleo listen to us." "I can be much worse.

Want to see?" I clamped my hands over my ears, pressing until my knuckles turned white, but the sounds leaked through the gaps in my fingers.

A hollow ache bloomed in my chest, a physical weight that forced me to curl up on the floor. My head throbbed.

Memories of Caspian's smiles and his soft promises collided with the muffled gasps from the other side of the wall. My hands shook as I fumbled in my pocket.

I pulled out my antidepressants and shoved the pills into my mouth, dryswallowing them one by one. I don't know how much time passed before the door swung open.

Caspian stood there, a towel slung low on his hips, staring down at me with zero emotion. "Can't take it already?" he sneered. "How are you going to survive the next year?" Kendall leaned against the doorframe behind him, her skin flushed with red marks.

She giggled. "Caspian, don't tell me you're actually feeling sorry for her?" His eyes flickered, but his expression remained a mask of ice. "Hardly.

I only married her so she'd feel every ounce of the pain I went through. Why would I care?" I stared up at him. The air left my lungs. It was all a lie.

There was no love—only a long, calculated game of revenge. Something snapped. Energy surged through my limbs. I lunged upward, my palm connecting with his cheek in a stinging crack.

The room went silent. Caspian's head stayed turned to the side for a long moment. When he looked back, his eyes were burning. "You hit me?

You're asking for death, Cleo!" I let out a jagged, broken laugh. "Didn't you bet that I'd slap you if I found out? Well, I did.

What are you so mad about?" I leaned in, my voice dropping to a whisper. "But if it were Simon, I'd never hit him.

I couldn't bear to touch him like that." Caspian's face darkened, his jaw tightening until the bone looked ready to snap.

He stared at me for an eternity, then a cruel smile touched his lips. "Trying to provoke me?" He stepped back, the door slowly swinging shut. "Fine.

Have it your way." This time, I didn't try to stop him. I walked to the bed, my movements mechanical.

As the noises started again next door, I piled the blankets high on the mattress.

I stood on top of them, unlatched the custom skylight Caspian had installed for me, and hauled myself onto the roof. The night air was biting.

A voice whispered in the wind, urgent and clear. Just let go. He never loved you. This is the only way out. I smiled. I stepped off the edge.

This time, my body was the one passing by Caspian's window. Chapter 5 Caspian "Cleo, no!" I lunged for the window, my lungs seizing. But I was a second too late.

As I shoved the frame open, the fabric of her dress slipped right through my fingers. She plummeted like a broken bird, leaving nothing but damp, coarse mud smeared across my palms.

The same mud she'd fallen into when I forced her out of the car. The world stopped spinning. A highpitched ringing pierced my eardrums. I stood frozen.

My brain refused to process the empty space where she had just been. Then, reality slammed into my chest.

I tore out of the room, my legs giving out twice as I stumbled down the stairs.

My breath came in ragged, jagged gasps. "Cleo!" The run from the third floor to the garden felt like crawling through wet cement. I collapsed beside her in the grass.

My trembling fingers hovered over her nose. Air. Faint, but there. She was alive. I whipped my head around. Kendall was standing frozen on the patio. "Don't just stand there!

Call 911!" My vocal cords shredded on the scream. I pulled Cleo against my chest, uncaring of the blood. Hot tears spilled over my lashes, dropping onto her pale, lifeless face.

My chest caved in on itself. "I'm sorry, Cleo. I'm so sorry." My words bled together, a pathetic, desperate stream. "I shouldn't have let the jealousy rot my brain.

I shouldn't have touched her." I rocked her, my face buried in her hair. "Everything I said up there was a lie. I married you because I love you… Please. Just wake up.

I swear to God I'll never hurt you again." Kendall I watched him cradle her on the grass, my nails digging into my palms. Die, I prayed to whatever was listening.

Please, let the ambulance get stuck in traffic. Let her bleed out. Ten years. Ten years of playing the loyal best friend.

Sure, Cleo split her lunch money with me when I was dead broke in high school.

Sure, when the mean girls dragged my name through the dirt, she was the one who stood up and ripped them to shreds for me. But I hated her.

I hated how she casually aced every AP class while I drowned at the bottom of the curve.

I hated how every guy who looked at her was toptier, while I only attracted deadbeats and losers.

So, when my ex cheated on me, and I opened Instagram only to see Cleo posting aesthetic photos of her perfect marriage with Simon, the jealousy clawed its way up my throat.

I slipped into Simon's bed. I thought once they divorced, he would choose me. Instead, he blamed me for the whole thing and cut me off. That only made the hatred fester.

Five years later, I ran the exact same playbook. I poisoned the well, fractured Caspian's trust in her, and when the timing was perfect, I spread my legs for him.

I thought I had finally won. But looking at Caspian right now—sobbing over her broken body like his soul had been ripped out—I knew I'd lost again. Caspian The siren wasn't coming.

The silence in the neighborhood was deafening. My throat seized. I carefully scooped Cleo into my arms and sprinted toward my SUV.

Kendall stepped in my way, her face twisted into mock concern. "Caspian, wait, you shouldn't move her—" I shoved her hard into the side of the house. "Get the hell out of my way!" My voice didn't even sound human. "If she dies, I'm taking you down with her!" I slammed the gas pedal to the floor.

The engine roared, tearing through the quiet streets. My hands gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles popped.

Every streetlight that flashed across the windshield triggered a memory, drowning me in the past. Sophomore year of college. The basketball court. My blood sugar had crashed.

I was blacking out on the bleachers when a girl walked past and pressed a piece of candy into my palm. Cleo.

I didn't know back then that she was the underclassman my roommate, Simon, had been chasing for six months. I just took one look at her and fell. Hard.

By the time I realized the truth, she was already his. The day Cleo and Simon got married, I locked myself in my apartment and drank until I threw up.

I spent the whole night suffocating on the pain. The next morning, I trailed their wedding convoy in my own car. Lurking in the back like a ghost.

When Simon finally carried her out of the limo, wrapped in white lace, my vision blurred. I didn't dare step closer.

I just gripped the steering wheel, my eyes burning red, and drove away. Chapter 6 That night, blind drunk, I dreamt I was the one standing at the altar with her.

When I woke up, a dark, venomous thought took root. I prayed Simon would take her for granted. I prayed he'd wreck it, just so I could have a shot. Someone upstairs was listening.

My sick wish came true. I finally pulled my moon out of the water. Cleo was back in my orbit. The year she battled severe depression, I stayed by her side.

Every second was a twisted mix of suffocation and a high I couldn't kick. Watching her shrink into herself felt like swallowing glass, but having her within arm's reach?

It kept my heart beating. I made a silent vow back then. I'd trade my own life if it meant she'd smile again. And again, the universe listened. The fog lifted before it killed me.

She looked at me, really looked at me, and let me be hers. We dated. I bought a ring. We started planning the wedding.

My blood buzzed with a manic, disbelieffueled energy the whole time. Then came the day of our engagement photoshoot. My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Kendall. A photo.

A wedding photo. Cleo and Simon. The high evaporated, replaced by a cold, heavy stone dropping into my gut. Jealousy didn't just creep in; it ripped my ribs apart. I looked up.

Cleo was standing a few feet away, effortlessly charming the photographer to give us a discount. The realization hit me like a semitruck.

She was perfect, and she used to belong to him. Every milestone, every single first—he took them all. The ground beneath me tilted. For the rest of the shoot, my jaw locked.

The photographer kept telling me to smile, but my facial muscles felt paralyzed. I looked less like a groom and more like a hostage. Cleo didn't notice the ice in my veins.

She just grabbed my hand, her eyes bright. "Let's grab a fake ring for the actual ceremony later," she said. "Just in case someone tries to swipe the real one from the venue." Logic screamed that she was just being practical.

But the poison in my head went to work, carving away at my sanity. Why would she think of that? Did someone steal the ring at her last wedding? The wedding she had with him?

The match was struck. The fire swallowed me whole. From that second on, every little thing she did—every touch, every sweet word—felt like a razor blade dragged across my skin.

Loving her was bleeding me dry, and the pain morphed into pure, unadulterated resentment. Kendall didn't let up.

She kept feeding me details about their past, dripping venom into my ear. Doesn't it make you sick? she texted.

You waited for her your whole life, and she only chose you as a last resort. If I were you, I'd make her pay. The next message was a picture. Kendall, in practically nothing.

I drove to her apartment. It was a sick, twisted blackout of logic. On the way home, I even stopped at the bakery to buy Cleo's favorite cake.

Her therapist had mentioned sugar helped balance her mood. I sat at the kitchen island, watching her eat it. She smiled, getting frosting on her lip.

I felt nothing but ash in my mouth. Why was I the only one choking on the past while she sat there, clueless? So, the day we signed our marriage license… I dropped the bomb.

The tires screeched, burning rubber against the asphalt as I slammed the brakes in front of the ER. The memories shattered. Bile rose in my throat.

I didn't even have time to suffocate on the regret. I kicked the door open, hauled Cleo into my arms, and sprinted toward the sliding glass doors.

Tearing her down was the biggest mistake of my miserable life.

If I had known my stupid revenge would end with her broken body bleeding out against my chest… I would have swallowed the jealousy and choked on it for the rest of my days.

My lungs stopped working. The nurses ripped her from my arms and rushed the gurney through the double doors. I hit the linoleum floor. My knees cracked against the tiles.

I stared at the blood smeared across my hands, silently begging any god that was listening to keep her breathing.

Chapter 7 Caspian My hands were still stained with her blood when a familiar face rounded the corner. Cleo's therapist.

She froze, taking in my state, the color already draining from her face. "Caspian? What happened?" I shook my head. My eyes burned.

The words tasted like ash. "She jumped." The therapist shoved past me without another word, slamming through the swinging doors of the operating room.

Cleo The darkness was heavy, pulling me down into a quiet, numb void. From far away, a voice filtered through the steady, flat tone of the heart monitor.

The surgeon was speaking. "Physical injuries aren't fatal, but her will to live is gone. She's slipping away." Then, a warmer breath brushed near my ear.

My therapist. "Cleo," she whispered, her voice slicing through the fog. "You asked me once how to truly beat the depression. "You didn't want to be a burden to Caspian anymore.

I didn't give you the full answer then. I'll give it to you now." I couldn't move, but the words anchored me in the blackness. "You stop anchoring your survival to someone else.

You become your own savior." Her words were fierce, grounding. "I don't know what happened, but dying isn't an escape. It's a surrender.

You survive this." "If someone kicks you down, you stand back up and break their teeth.

If you lose the first round, you wipe the blood off and fight the second." "As long as you have a pulse, there is hope. Be your own savior, Cleo.

Be your own moon." Be my own savior. The darkness cracked. The machine next to me spiked, beeping rapidly. I forced my heavy eyelids to flutter. I woke up three days later.

Caspian was hovering over the bed the second I opened my eyes.

He looked like a walking corpse—unshaven, bloodshot eyes, clothes wrinkled. "Cleo," he breathed out, leaning over me. "You're awake.

Where does it hurt?" Under the sterile hospital blankets, I curled my fingers into tight fists, letting my nails bite into my palms. The pain kept me sharp.

I blinked, stripping my gaze of every ounce of emotion, and looked at him like he was a stranger on the subway. "Who are you?" He froze