Chapter 1

I saw Liam, my cop husband, who had been missing for two years.

He didn’t remember me.

When he wrapped his arm around his new fiancée and looked at me, his eyes were cold and guarded.

I forced a smile, swallowed the bitterness, and said nothing.

Because the hypnosis that had caused his amnesia two years ago? I was the one who performed it.

Liam burst into my life, completely out of the blue.

Tonight, my department at the hospital had a dinner party. I’d had too much to drink.

My department’s deputy head got promoted to head, and he was treating us.

My colleagues were joking around, saying that the vacant deputy head position would most likely be mine.

They kept encouraging me to drink, and after a few rounds, my head felt foggy. I just accepted every drink offered.

As I walked out of the restaurant, my steps were unsteady, my colleagues supporting me on either side.

My stomach was doing flips when I heard the girl beside me gasp, “Wow, he’s seriously hot.”

I tilted my head, following her gaze.

And there he was, leaning against a car, smoking.

My body froze in an instant.

Two years. Over seven hundred days and nights.

I never dared to hope that I’d see him again, not on a normal evening like this.

To unexpectedly see *him*.

He looked the same, yet everything about him felt different.

I paused for a brief second, or maybe two.

Then I raised my hand, trying to rub my eyes.

But I was too drunk; my hand wouldn't cooperate.

The neon lights of the night painted his face.

The drifting smoke blurred his sharp, distinct features.

Outside the restaurant, the crowd surged, loud and chaotic.

But he stood there, silent, as if detached from the entire world.

My eyes suddenly welled up. My body reacted before my mind did.

In my drunken haze, I pushed my colleagues away and rushed straight towards him.

The man leaning against the car was startled by my sudden approach.

He quickly turned, shying away from me like I was poison, but I still clung desperately to his waist.

“Liam.”

The moment his name left my lips, tears streamed down my face.

My emotions, fueled by alcohol, were overwhelming.

I choked back sobs, rambling incoherently about how much I’d missed him these past two years.

Until his hand forcefully pried mine away.

My drunken stupor made me stumble, and I fell back onto the wet ground.

His eyes held extreme disgust and wariness.

Yet, his hand was gentle as he pulled the woman who’d just walked up closer.

As if afraid of scaring her, his expression and voice instantly softened.

“Sweetheart, I really don’t know her.”