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Wife Uncovers Husband's Fake Amnesia Scheme Novel Cover

Wife Uncovers Husband's Fake Amnesia Scheme

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.
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Chapter 2

Two days after the confrontation with his parents, I found myself alone with Matthias in his hospital room. The afternoon light filtered through the blinds, casting shadows that seemed to mirror the darkness I now saw in him. He was adjusting his hospital gown, preparing for his discharge, when I decided to test the boundaries of his deception.

"Matthias," I said softly, settling into the chair beside his bed. "I've been thinking about what you said. About not remembering our life together."

His head tilted toward me, that practiced expression of confusion crossing his features. "I'm sorry, Ariella. I wish I could remember, but..."

*Here we go again with the act. Just need to keep this up a little longer.*

The clarity of his thoughts still shocked me. "Do you remember your twenty-first birthday? The party at your parents' house?"

He paused, and I watched genuine calculation flicker behind his eyes. "I... yes, I think so. There was cake, and Lorelei wore that blue dress..."

*Perfect. She's buying into the timeline. Twenty-one was after Lorelei left, but she doesn't know that.*

"That's interesting," I said carefully, "because Lorelei had already moved to Europe by then. She wasn't at that party."

For just a moment, his mask slipped. Panic flashed across his face before he recovered. "I must be confused. The doctors said my memories might be jumbled..."

*Shit. Need to be more careful. Can't let her catch me in lies.*

"Of course," I said, my voice steady despite the rage building inside me. "Memory is such a fragile thing. Speaking of which, do you remember why we were driving that night? Where we were going?"

His fingers unconsciously adjusted his hospital bracelet—a tell I'd never noticed before but now recognized from his thoughts. "No, I... it's all blank."

*She can't know I sabotaged the brakes. The investigation will find mechanical failure, nothing more.*

My blood turned to ice. He had sabotaged our car. The accident that could have killed me, that had caused complications with my pregnancy—he had orchestrated it all.

"Matthias," I said, standing slowly, "I have something to tell you."

He looked up at me, still wearing that mask of innocent confusion.

"I'm pregnant. Three months along."

The color drained from his face. His thoughts exploded in my mind like fireworks:

*No, no, no! This ruins everything! A baby means child support, means she'll have a permanent connection to me. Lorelei won't want to deal with this. I need to convince her to get rid of it.*

"That's... that's wonderful," he said aloud, but his voice was hollow.

"And I've made a decision," I continued, watching him carefully. "I'm keeping our child, and I'm leaving you. I'll file for divorce tomorrow."

Panic flashed in his eyes, and for a moment, his amnesia act completely cracked. "Ariella, wait. Maybe we shouldn't be so hasty. Perhaps my memory will return—"

*Can't let her divorce me yet. Need time to hide assets, need to make sure she doesn't get half of everything. The Davis family connections are worth millions.*

"Your memory?" I asked quietly. "I thought you said you couldn't remember me at all."

He froze, realizing his mistake. "I... what I meant was..."

"What you meant was that you've been lying." I stepped closer to his bed. "The question is, about what else?"

The next morning, I sat across from Thomas Hartley, the Gordon family lawyer, in his mahogany-paneled office. Matthias had insisted on attending despite his 'condition,' and I could hear his thoughts churning with strategy and desperation.

"Mrs. Gordon," Mr. Hartley began, "given your husband's medical situation, perhaps we should postpone—"

"No," I said firmly. "I want to proceed immediately. I'm requesting an equal division of all marital assets, including the Seattle house."

Matthias jerked in his chair. "Ariella, surely we can work something out. Given my condition—"

*She can't have the house. That's where I planned to live with Lorelei. And half the assets? That's impossible.*

Mr. Hartley's thoughts were equally revealing: *This is awkward. Matthias consulted me about removing her from his will just two months ago. Said he wanted to 'simplify his estate planning.' Now I understand why.*

"Mr. Hartley," I said, meeting his eyes directly, "I believe you've advised my husband on estate matters recently?"

The lawyer shifted uncomfortably. "I... attorney-client privilege prevents me from—"

"Of course," I said smoothly. "But I'm sure those consultations were purely routine. Nothing involving my removal from any legal documents."

Matthias's face went white. *How could she know that? Unless Hartley told her... but that would be unethical.*

"I want everything documented," I continued, pulling out a folder I'd prepared. "Every asset, every account, every investment. And I want it done quickly."

*She's not the broken woman I expected,* came Matthias's frantic thoughts. *This isn't going according to plan at all.*

That evening, I sat in my hotel room, staring at the divorce papers spread across the small table. The legal language felt surreal—the formal dissolution of what I'd believed was love but now knew had been an elaborate lie.

A soft knock at my door interrupted my thoughts. Through the peephole, I saw a familiar figure holding a coffee cup and a brown paper bag.

Charlie Peters stood in the hallway, his kind eyes filled with concern. When I opened the door, the aroma of my favorite vanilla latte filled the air.

"I thought you might need this," he said simply, offering me the cup. "And Elena made soup. She insisted I bring it."

Charlie's thoughts reached me as clearly as the others: *She looks so tired, so hurt. I've wanted to hold her and tell her everything will be okay for so long. But she needs a friend right now, not another complication.*

"Charlie," I whispered, suddenly overwhelmed by the genuine care in his voice. "How did you know I was here?"

"Your grandmother called me," he said, stepping inside when I gestured. "She's worried about you. We all are."

He set the soup on the table and turned to face me. "Ariella, I know this is hard, but you're stronger than you realize. You always have been."

*I've loved her since we were kids,* his thoughts continued. *Watched her give everything to that bastard who never deserved her. If she'll let me, I'll spend the rest of my life proving what real love looks like.*

The sincerity in his thoughts, so different from Matthias's calculating deception, brought tears to my eyes. For the first time in days, I felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, somehow, I could survive this betrayal and find something real on the other side.

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