My Wife Erases Me in the Name of "Love"

Juliet Sutton has always been hopelessly devoted.

But the day her first love is diagnosed with cancer, she hands me a pill that can make someone forget. She says, "Matthew, Wilson doesn't have much time left. Give me three days. Let me give him the wedding he always dreamed of.

"I won't break your heart. This pill only causes temporary memory loss. Once the ceremony is over, you take the antidote, fall in love with me again, and then we'll remarry."

Seeing the resolve in her eyes, I take the pill and swallow it without hesitation.

What Juliet doesn't know is that I'm the one who developed the pill. There is no antidote.

In three days, I'll forget her completely.

After Juliet Sutton and I signed the divorce papers and walked out of the courthouse, she checked the time.

"In two minutes, the pill will kick in. For the next three days, you'll forget every memory of loving me. Once you take the antidote, you won't remember anything that happens during these days, so you won't have to feel any pain.

"This divorce is only temporary. When everything is over, we'll get married again. Don't worry. My real husband is only you."

I stared at her in silence, knowing full well we would never have the chance to remarry.

As the one who developed the drug, I understood exactly how it worked. It didn't wipe memories instantly. It would erase them little by little until the person forgot the one they loved completely.

And the antidote didn't exist.

But Juliet clearly didn't know that.

I asked softly, "Are you sure you won't regret this?"

She smiled and gently cupped my face.

"Wilson has loved me for so many years. His only wish is to have a wedding with me. I can't refuse him. Since I agreed, I won't regret it.

"Matthew, you're always considerate and gentle. There's no need to fight with someone who's dying. When all of this is over, we'll go back to our happy life."

A bitter smile tugged at my lips as the ache in my chest spread through my whole body. I said nothing more.

In the year we loved each other the most, I drank myself sick fighting for her project until my stomach bled, and she stayed up night after night fighting for my research until her heartbeat went irregular.

I once teased her and asked, "If I grow old and forget you someday, what then?"

Her eyes turned red instantly, and she kissed me hard. She said, "Matthew, I love you. Don't ever forget me. I would lose my mind."

Now, after hearing that her first love, Wilson Huxley, had cancer, she divorced me without hesitation and asked me to take a pill that would erase everything between us.

I figured she wanted to give him three perfect days of love—no guilt, no flaws, and no husband in the way. She just wanted to give herself completely to Wilson.

If she had the nerve to fall for someone else and drug me on top of it, why bother talking about getting back together at all?

I let out a hollow laugh, mocking myself.

Then suddenly, pain stabbed through my skull. My vision blurred, and my body pitched forward.

Juliet darted forward and caught me. Her bright eyes were filled with raw, unmistakable worry.

"Where does it hurt? If you're scared I won't come back, I can give you the divorce papers and every document to keep."

I forced myself upright, blinking at her in confusion. "What divorce papers?"

Juliet froze, then carefully tested me. "Matthew, you're divorced. Do you remember?"

"Divorced?"

A flicker of joy crossed her eyes when she saw my blank expression.

I lowered my head and saw the divorce certificate clenched in my hand. At that moment, I understood.

The pill was starting to work. The first thing it erased was the memory of divorcing her.