Wife Uncovers Husband's Fake Amnesia Scheme

9.4 / 10.0

The steady beep of hospital monitors pulled me from darkness. My eyelids felt heavy, my body a constellation of pain points. The antiseptic smell hit me first—that unmistakable hospital scent that always made my stomach clench. As consciousness fully returned, memory flashed in fragments: headlights, screeching tires, Matthias's face turned away from the wheel, then nothing but blackness and noise. I turned my head slightly, wincing at the stiffness in my neck, and saw him. Matthias sat upright in the adjacent hospital bed, already awake, his dark hair disheveled but otherwise appearing remarkably unscathed. Relief flooded through me. "Matthias," I whispered, my voice scratchy. "Thank God you're okay." His eyes met mine, but something was wrong. Where I expected to see warmth or relief, I found only cold detachment.

9.4

Modern Mystery Romance

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Wife Uncovers Husband's Fake Amnesia Scheme Chapter 1

I turned my head slightly, wincing at the stiffness in my neck, and saw him. Matthias sat upright in the adjacent hospital bed, already awake, his dark hair disheveled but otherwise appearing remarkably unscathed. Relief flooded through me.

"Matthias," I whispered, my voice scratchy. "Thank God you're okay."

His eyes met mine, but something was wrong. Where I expected to see warmth or relief, I found only cold detachment. A chill ran through me that had nothing to do with the hospital's air conditioning.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice flat.

My heart stuttered. "What? Matthias, it's me. Ariella. Your wife."

He frowned, shaking his head slowly. "I don't... I don't remember you. The doctors say I have amnesia." He paused, looking confused. "The last thing I remember is being twenty years old, and Lorelei..."

The name hit me like another car crash. Lorelei Stevens—his college girlfriend, the one who'd left him heartbroken years before we met.

"You're my wife?" he continued, his tone incredulous. "I'm sorry, but I don't remember our marriage. How long have we...?"

"Three years," I whispered, the words feeling like glass in my throat.

And then something extraordinary happened. As I stared at him, bewildered and hurt, I heard his voice—but his lips weren't moving.

*Perfect, she's buying the amnesia act. Now I can finally get rid of her and be with Lorelei.*

I jerked back against the pillows, the shock like electricity through my system. Had I imagined it? But no—there it was again, clear as day:

*This is going better than expected. She looks devastated. Just need to keep this up until I can file for divorce.*

My breath caught. Matthias's face remained a mask of confusion, but I had somehow heard his actual thoughts. Thoughts that revealed a monstrous truth: he was faking. This was all an elaborate performance.

"I'm sorry," he said aloud, not looking sorry at all. "But I think we need to face reality. If I don't remember you or our life together..." He hesitated, a perfect dramatic pause. "I think we should divorce. It's not fair to either of us to pretend."

I couldn't speak. The betrayal was so complete, so calculated, that it left me speechless. Three years of marriage—all the dinners I'd cooked, the business connections I'd provided through my family, the love I'd given him—meant nothing. He'd orchestrated this entire scenario to discard me.

Before I could respond, the door swung open. A woman in a flowing white dress stepped into the room, her blonde hair catching the light like a halo—a calculated effect, I was certain. Lorelei Stevens, in the flesh.

"Matt!" she cried, rushing to his bedside. "Oh my darling, I came as soon as I heard!"

She threw her arms around him, pressing her lips to his forehead while shooting me a triumphant glance over his shoulder. I watched, frozen, as she stroked his face with manicured fingers.

And then her thoughts invaded my mind too:

*That pathetic wife of his looks so broken. This is easier than I thought. Soon I'll have access to all that Davis family money.*

I closed my eyes, trying to block out this new, overwhelming ability. When I opened them again, Matthias was holding Lorelei's hand, looking at her with undisguised adoration. The performance would have been convincing if I couldn't hear the calculating thoughts behind it.

The door burst open again, this time revealing Mr. and Mrs. Gordon. Matthias's mother took one look at the scene—her son embracing Lorelei while I sat alone in my hospital bed—and her face hardened with unmistakable fury.

"Get out," she snapped at Lorelei. "How dare you show your face here?"

*Poor Ariella,* came Mrs. Gordon's thoughts, clear and genuine. *That manipulative witch has her claws in our son again. We won't stand for this.*

"Mother," Matthias protested, maintaining his amnesia act. "You can't speak to Lorelei that way. She's the only person I remember!"

Mr. Gordon stepped forward, his normally composed face flushed with anger. "Enough of this nonsense, Matthias. Your behavior is disgraceful."

*I'm ashamed to call him my son right now,* came his father's thoughts. *After everything Ariella has done for him, for our family business...*

"If you continue this charade," Mr. Gordon said aloud, his voice dangerously quiet, "you can consider yourself financially cut off. From everything."

I watched as panic flashed across Matthias's face, quickly masked by his performance of confusion. But I heard his thoughts clear as day:

*Shit. He can't do that. I need that money until this divorce is finalized.*

The battle lines had been drawn. And somehow, impossibly, I could hear everyone's true thoughts—the one advantage I never expected to have in this war Matthias had started.

Wife Uncovers Husband's Fake Amnesia Scheme of Contents

Chapter 1 Ch. 1 Chapter 2 Ch. 2 Chapter 3 Ch. 3

Chapter 4 Ch. 4

Chapter 5 Ch. 5

Chapter 6 Ch. 6

Chapter 7 Ch. 7

Chapter 8 Ch. 8

Chapter 9 Ch. 9

Chapter 10 Ch. 10

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Chapter 1 It was their seventh wedding anniversary. Carolyn found the divorce agreement in Roger’s nightstand. The pages were covered in scribbles and corrections, as if he’d agonized over them for years. *"If, during the marriage, I fall in love with another person, I voluntarily relinquish all assets and leave with nothing. Asset details as follows…"* His first impulse had been to walk away empty-handed. But the asset section told a different story—a mess of revisions. First, he’d crossed out the property he intended to give her. Then, the fifty million earmarked for her was scratched out and replaced with five hundred thousand. Finally, as if in penance, he had written a single line. *"Better to have Carolyn leave with nothing. No choice, Catherine is pregnant."* … Carolyn sank onto the bed, disbelief washing over her. On the agreement, Roger’s signature was clean and decisive, without a hint of hesitation. And the document had been drafted seven years ago—the very year they married. That year, Roger had been willing to give up everything for her. Yet every year after, he had crossed out another piece of their shared life. Now, seven years later, the one leaving with nothing would be her. Her phone buzzed abruptly. A message from Roger. *"Urgent business. Won't be back."* She called, only to find his phone already switched off. Another notification flashed—a screenshot from a friend. Catherine, the student she sponsored, had posted on social media. *"Wow, got praised! To commemorate my first period without a leak, the big boss said we should celebrate properly!"* In a nine-photo collage, Roger gazed at her, eyes crinkling with affection as he fastened a dazzling gemstone necklace around her neck. The post was tagged at a couples-themed hotel. Carolyn’s breath caught. He couldn’t remember seven years of marriage, of weathering storms together—but he could find the energy to celebrate Catherine’s… leak-free period. And that pendant… she’d seen it at an auction just last week. It was her mother’s lost heirloom. She’d been ready to bid when her bank card was frozen. She’d asked Roger why. A long time later, he finally texted back, telling her not to waste money on such impractical things. Clutching her bidding paddle, she’d sat helplessly in the auction hall. In the end, she resolved to sell one of her own designs to raise the funds. But someone on the phone swooped in with an unbeatable offer and took it. For weeks afterward, Carolyn hated herself—hated that she couldn’t protect her mother’s last keepsake. She never imagined the one who snatched it away was Roger. He knew exactly how much that pendant meant to her. Yet he gave it to Catherine. Even on their seventh anniversary, Roger had lied about being busy with work, while wining and dining the girl she’d sponsored. The anniversary gift he left her was a divorce agreement demanding she leave with nothing. Seven years of marriage. Seven years of infidelity. And Carolyn had known nothing. She’d even introduced the other woman to him herself. Catherine was the impoverished student Carolyn sponsored. The first time Catherine came to their home to give thanks, Roger found her intrusive and disliked her on sight. *"That girl has no manners. Tracked mud all over my cashmere rug."* *"If her grades aren’t up to par, cut the sponsorship."* Back then, Carolyn had teased him, saying not to be jealous—it was good the girl had a grateful heart. She never once suspected Roger and Catherine. For seven years, everyone in their circle believed Roger never played around. That he loved only Carolyn. But by their next meeting, Catherine had become Roger’s personal assistant. Roger explained, *"The girl’s had it tough. You’ve sponsored her for years. Giving her a job is just helping you out."* Carolyn had laughed it off. Now, hands trembling, she opened Catherine’s social media feed. Catherine had always hidden her posts from Carolyn. Now, she seemed desperate to flaunt everything. While Carolyn drank until her stomach bled to secure a deal for Roger, Catherine was using Roger’s card to buy her first Louis Vuitton. While Carolyn changed bedpans for Roger’s bedridden grandmother, Roger was taking Catherine to a perfume atelier for a blending class—calling it a business trip. Catherine had even complained online. *"Your wife is such a pampered princess. Can't handle the tiniest thing without you running back. Can she not live without a man?"* And Roger had replied beneath it. *"If she were half as independent as you, I’d have an easier life."* But that day… Carolyn’s mother had lost her battle with cancer. She’d cried until her heart felt shredded, scrambling to handle the arrangements. All the while, Roger kept checking his phone impatiently, eager to leave. Not for work, she realized now—but because he was desperate to get back to Catherine.

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Wife Uncovers Husband's Fake Amnesia Scheme

Wife Uncovers Husband's Fake Amnesia Scheme Chapter 1

Wife Uncovers Husband's Fake Amnesia Scheme of Contents

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