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The Amnesia Lie

After a car accident leaves her with a brain injury, a woman discovers her fiancé, Ethan Meyer, in the arms of his assistant. To uncover the depth of his betrayal, she pretends to have amnesia upon waking. Ethan seizes the lie, claiming to be just a friend of the real groom, his best friend Grayson Hudson. As Ethan and his mistress hide their affair, Grayson steps in to claim the role of her fiancé. Caught in a web of deception, she agrees to proceed with the engagement to mask her true intentions.
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Chapter 2

Under the dim lighting, a charged, intimate tension flowed quietly between us.

My cheeks grew warm. The tips of Grayson's ears flushed red.

To Ethan, the sight was almost unbearable. As if acting on impulse, he stepped between us.

"The Meyer family is hosting a private dinner tomorrow. You should both come."

Grayson frowned slightly, about to refuse, but I spoke first.

"Okay."

I wanted to see just how badly Ethan could play out this farce.

The next day, we arrived as promised.

The moment we stepped into the banquet hall, we saw Ethan with Sarah held tightly in his arms.

When Sarah looked at me, the provocation in her eyes was unmistakable.

I let out a soft laugh.

In truth, I had noticed long ago that something between her and Ethan was far too intimate—something wasn't right.

But when I confronted him, he had only laughed it off.

"Lisa, you're overthinking it.

"She's alone in this city with no one to rely on. I'm just looking out for her.

"Sarah is a simple girl. Don't be so hostile toward her."

He had denied everything back then. And now, taking advantage of my "amnesia," he had the audacity to bring her openly into the spotlight.

I ignored them completely and tightened my grip on Grayson's hand.

A flicker of surprise passed through his eyes before he pulled me into his arms.

With Grayson present, no one dared speak out of line to me. They only gathered in small groups, whispering among themselves.

When Ethan saw us, he walked over, still holding Sarah's hand.

"You two are holding on pretty tightly. Afraid you might lose each other? I have to say… I didn't expect your relationship to be this strong."

His tone dripped with mockery, but I replied calmly, "Of course. We're engaged—naturally, we're close."

My words left him speechless, and the air turned instantly cold.

His gaze lingered on me, his expression dark and stormy.

Seeing him like that, I found it almost laughable.

He was the one who pushed me toward Grayson—so what was he so upset about now?

Sensing the awkward tension, someone suggested drawing lots to choose dance partners.

Sarah stepped forward first and drew Ethan.

As the music began, the two of them, dressed in formalwear, moved together in a lingering, intimate dance.

From time to time, Ethan glanced my way—only to find me completely indifferent, standing beside Grayson with a faint smile.

His expression darkened.

Suddenly, he pulled Sarah close and kissed her passionately in the center of the dance floor.

The heated display sent the room into an uproar—champagne was splashed, and cheers erupted.

And I stood there, calm and unmoved—not even a flicker of discomfort crossing my face.

Though he knew I had "lost my memory," my composure seemed to irritate him deeply.

In the next round of drawing lots, Ethan ended up picking me.

People around him shot him meaningful looks.

Awkwardly, he walked toward me, about to extend an invitation—when Sarah's eyes suddenly reddened.

Clutching his arm, tears spilled down her cheeks.

"Darling…"

His heart softened instantly. He let go of his intention without hesitation.

"I'm not interested in dancing with you. I'm not going to upset my girlfriend over a dance."

I gave a slight nod, my tone composed.

"That's fine. I wouldn't want to make my fiancé unhappy by dancing with another man, either."

With that, I turned naturally toward Grayson and gently took his hand.

My response made Ethan's expression sink.

It seemed he couldn't accept that the woman who once had eyes only for him now felt nothing at all.

Just as he was about to speak, Grayson took my hand and led me onto the dance floor.

We moved in perfect harmony, every step effortless—our presence rendering Ethan and Sarah's flamboyance dull by comparison.

When the music ended, Grayson steadied me, his voice laced with concern.

"This party shows you no respect."

Before I could respond, he had already wrapped an arm around my waist and guided me toward the exit.

"Let's go home."

"Grayson!"

Ethan chased after us, urgency filling his voice.

"Don't get too carried away with the act!"