I Tricked My Amnesiac Husband Into Marriage

Even if the new medication passed clinical trials, getting it to market would still be a slow, exhausting nightmare. Impatience gnawed at me—Yara—pushing me to scheme my way closer to Mathias, to get that drug as fast as humanly possible. Even just the formula would give our research team something concrete to study.

Naturally, being married would bring us far closer than mere partners.

Mathias's thick lashes fluttered in surprise. "Married?!"

Seeing him struggle to process the bomb I'd just dropped, I added with a taunting edge, "Don't believe me? Once you're out of the hospital, I'll show you our marriage certificate."

Mathias squinted, still skeptical.

I figured he couldn't sense the kind of intimacy a married couple should share. After all, we'd only been in bed together once, and our meeting yesterday had been laced with tension—not exactly a solid foundation for deep feelings. I lowered my gaze, feigning sadness.

"I know you might not feel much for me right now, especially since I was the one who chased you. But one night, after we'd both had a little too much to drink, something happened. You said you'd take responsibility and suggested we get married.

"You also wanted to keep it under wraps, so right now we're in a secret marriage."

Years of verbal sparring with my stepmother had sharpened my acting skills to a razor's edge. I even managed to squeeze out a few tears, looking pitiful enough to soften him.

Mathias might have been shrewd and impossible to read before, but with amnesia, he was easy to fool.

I took his hand and pressed it to my cheek, pouring every drop of sincerity I could fake into my next words. "Maybe you married me out of obligation, but we've been good together. I know this is a lot right now, but don't worry. I'll always be by your side, and eventually, you'll remember all the little things about us."

Mathias's expression finally eased. "...This is sudden. I need some time to process it."

I tested the waters carefully. "You wouldn't want a divorce just because you have amnesia, would you?"

Mathias smiled faintly. "Why would I want a divorce if you're this good to me? But I don't remember anything, so I'll need some time to adjust."

I made my face light up through the fake tears. "Aww, so you do have a heart!"

Knowing when to back off, I said, "You should get some more sleep."

Mathias had just woken up and was still weak, clearly needing rest.

"You don't look so great yourself. You should rest too."

That hint of growing concern told me my groundwork was already paying off, and I felt a secret thrill.

I smiled. "Thanks for worrying about me, honey."

Mathias looked taken aback, his expression turning a little awkward. "...Do you really call me that?"

He was still getting used to it, no doubt.

I thought to myself, how else are we supposed to get close fast if not with pet names?

"Ever since we got hitched, that's what I've called you. But you still haven't called me 'wifey' once."

I arched my brows playfully. "Why not take advantage of the amnesia and try it now?"

Mathias ignored my teasing and pretended to fall asleep.

Once he'd dozed off, I quietly got up, arranged for the nurse to keep an eye on things, and left the hospital.

If we were going to play husband and wife, I had to commit to the role completely.

Thankfully, Mathias had his ID on him. Using the information on both our IDs, I mocked up what looked like a certified county marriage certificate, then went shopping for his basics and arranged them neatly all over my apartment.

With no time to rest, I whipped up a nutritious stew and rushed back to the hospital.

The nurse told me Mathias had woken up briefly, then dozed off again. I was so exhausted that I fell asleep at his bedside, gripping his hand.

At some point in my sleep, I must have used his hand as a pillow, because the tingling sensation woke him. He started to pull away, but when he saw how wiped out I was, he paused and let his hand stay right where it was.

While I'd been gone, the nurse had checked on him, and Mathias had asked a few questions.

Apparently, I'd been out of my mind with worry and had begged the doctor to do whatever it took to save him.

The nurse, a romantic in her forties, laid her story on thick. "Heard you needed a blood transfusion, and she rolled up her sleeve without a second thought. Said she'd donate as much as the doctors safely allowed if that's what it took! Then she fainted right after, only woke up after they gave her fluids, and still rushed straight back to look after you. That woman loves you. Don't you go neglecting her just because you can't remember."

Mathias seemed to buy every word. When he looked at me again, gratitude—and something that looked a lot like guilt—softened his expression.

Lost in thought, I woke up with a start and met Mathias's deep gaze.

"Honey, you're awake! Hungry? Let me get you something to eat."

His hand was still tingling, and he pulled it back slowly. "All right."

I raised the bed. "I made chicken broth with carrots, celery, and herbs—something light to help you recover."

As soon as I opened the thermos, Mathias wrinkled his nose. "Take it away. I hate celery."

I'd tried to research him online, hoping to learn how to win him over, but found nothing. The heir had spent years abroad and stayed low-key and mysterious.

I filed away his dislike of celery and used a coaxing tone. "I know you hate it, but you need calories and fluids while you're recovering. Just have a little, okay?"

Mathias had a strict rule about not eating things he disliked, and my coaxing wasn't enough to move him. "No."

Feigning a pitiful look, I raised my arm and showed the marks from last night's transfusion. "AB negative blood is hard to come by around here. I really don't have much left to give. Please, just a little."

Mathias looked at the bruises and remembered the nurse's story about me fainting after the transfusion.

Eventually, he reluctantly lowered the hand shielding his mouth and nose.

I brightened. "That's a good boy. Now open wide."

I blew on the stew to cool it before lifting the spoon to his lips, playing the attentive caregiver for all I was worth.

Uncomfortable with the intimacy, Mathias insisted, "I can manage."

"You can't even hold the bowl. If it spills, I'll be the one cleaning it up. Now open wide."

Too weak to argue, he gave in. Being doted on by a loving, attentive wife wasn't exactly a bad consolation.

After a few spoonfuls, I offered him a piece of chicken. "Eat some meat. Protein."

He eyed the piece beside his lips, frowned, and turned away. "Skin."

I caught on instantly. "Oh, silly me. I forgot you don't do chicken skin."

A true princely palate, really.

From childhood until now, I'd rarely served anyone, but to secure my mother's medication, I'd gladly work myself to the bone.

I removed the skin and bones and finally offered the choicest piece to the picky heir.

Mathias showed a sliver of courtesy. "You've worked hard."

"Between us, that's not necessary. Seeing you like this hurts me. I wish I could trade places with you."

His amnesia seemed to have reset him, softening all his edges. When he saw the tears welling in my eyes, he paused, but eventually comforted me. "Don't worry, I'll get better soon."

I noted every little change in him. My spirits soared, sensing victory was close. Recharged, I poured even more effort into the act.

After the meal, I fetched hot water. "You love being clean. Going days without a bath must be rough. Let me help freshen you up."

Mathias was used to luxury, so hygiene was naturally important to him. I couldn't miss with that one.

"I do feel grimy," he admitted.

All part of my strategy—catering to his every need to get my hands on that drug.

"Of course. As your dear wife, I have to take good care of you."

While wiping his abdomen, I couldn't resist poking at his well-defined muscles. "You have an incredible body. I love feeling your abs."

Mathias glanced down at me and frowned. "Was it lust that made you chase me?"

I met his gaze with a sly smile. "Not quite."

Then I went right back to playing with his abs.

After half a minute, he caught my playful hand.

"Don't."

I feigned hurt and pouted. "Are we really so distant now that I can't even touch you?"

Watching my fake pout, Mathias's expression softened, amusement flickering in his eyes.

His nose twitched, and his voice softened as he explained, "...It tickles."