His Pill of Regret

After I hung up the phone, I instinctively returned to the bedroom I used to share with Max. However, somewhere along the way, his belongings had vanished.

That was when it hit me. The whole “bride swap” situation wasn’t a last-minute decision. It was planned.

Clutching my bruised shoulder, I sat down, the bitterness rising in my throat.

I remembered how, back then, if I burned my finger just a little while cooking him a meal, he’d freak out and rush me to the doctor. I’d laugh at him for overreacting, but he’d take my hand, kiss it gently, and whisper, “Kate, you’re my treasure. I didn’t propose to you so you’d take care of me. I want to take care of you. If you’re in pain, it hurts me even more.”

Yet now, he was the one who hurt me, and he didn’t even care. The wedding dress he had custom-made for me that ended up on another woman was the perfect example.

While I was treating my injury, my best friend Danielle Carter called.

“Kate, what’s going on? Your wedding is in three days, and you’re booking a flight to Historia?”

“There’s no wedding anymore.”

I gave a dry laugh and told her about the memory-erasing pill. The next second, a string of furious curses erupted through the phone.

“Kate, wait right there. I’m coming over to beat the hell out of that shameless pair! If it wasn’t for you using your research to back his crappy startup, that loser would still be jobless and living on the streets. Now that he’s made it, he feeds you a damn memory-erasing drug for another woman? Scum doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Her words opened a floodgate of memories, and my eyes stung.

It was true. I was the one who stood by him when his business failed and even when his family turned their backs on him. I gave him my research, my money, and my network to help him become the heir to the Siegels’ empire. I was also the one who stayed up through the nights with him for three years straight.

He used to swear I was the only one he’d ever love and the only woman he’d ever marry. So, when did he start looking at someone else?

Why was it my love that had to pay for his pity and guilt?

After half an hour of Danielle cursing Max out, she finally ran out of steam. There was a beat of silence before she let out a dark laugh.

“Babe, that scum doesn’t know there’s no antidote to that pill, right? Just imagine him bawling his eyes out while you calmly ask who he is. It’s weirdly satisfying, isn’t it?”

Her sarcasm made me laugh, and for a moment, the ache in my chest didn’t feel so bad.

I thought I’d cry myself to sleep that night, but somehow, I drifted off. When I woke up, someone was holding my hand.

I opened my eyes to Max trying to take off my ring.

“What are you doing?” I asked, groggy.

He froze, then offered me a half-glass of water. “Oh, you’re awake. Are you thirsty?”

I ignored the question. “What were you just doing?”

Caught, he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “You probably forgot. That ring belongs to Fawn. She’s going to need it for the wedding.”

His lie felt like a slap in the face. So, for Fawn, he’d go as far as to treat me like a fool.

I remembered as clear as day that he had designed the ring himself just for me—a delicate balloon flower motif, with our initials engraved on the inside of the band—all because I once casually said engagement rings all looked the same.

He’d said it symbolized a love unlike any other, and now? He wanted to give that to someone else.

Finding it ironic, I couldn’t help but ask, “Why would her ring be on my finger?”

He hesitated for a second before quickly putting on a serious face. “Kate, quit playing. You love this ring, don’t you? After the wedding, I’ll have another made for you. But I promised Fawn a perfect wedding. She needs the ring now.”

His words, so confidently false, made my chest twist with pain. I remembered the day that ring got done—how he couldn’t wait to slide it on my finger.

I had teased him, “Aren’t wedding rings for the ceremony? What’s the rush?”

He kissed me and said seriously, “I just want to lock you down early. Promise me you’ll never take it off.”

Now, he didn’t hesitate to remove it for someone else.

I stared at the empty space on my finger, feeling a wave of sorrow and betrayal crash over me. Clutching my aching chest, I tried to calm myself.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s just heartbreak. A few more days, and it won’t hurt anymore.”

The sky was just beginning to lighten, and all the memories I once treasured were already starting to fade into dust.