When Memory Returns, Love Dies

When Memory Returns, Love Dies

Ting Er Xiao Ling

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Sunlight hit my face, but I woke to a room I didn' t know, a smiling couple in a picture on the nightstand-strangers. Panic built. Then, a man from the picture walked in, tray in hand. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he said. He was my husband, Ethan, and my name was Ava, but it meant nothing. My memory reset every night, a rare amnesia, he explained. Then, one evening, it happened. My memory didn' t reset. I remembered everything: his assistant Chloe, their too-familiar glances, and their cruel whispers in his office. "It's convenient," he' d said. "She doesn't remember. I can do whatever I want." He saw me as a broken toy, his "perfect arrangement." I ran, lost in a city that was supposed to be home. When I returned, defeated, Chloe was on my sofa, wine in hand, acting like she owned the place. "Where else would you go?" she purred. Ethan, instead of concern, was annoyed. When I dared to demand a divorce, he grabbed me, threatening. He coerced me into kneeling before Chloe, forcing me to apologize. Then, she slapped me. He watched. The monster had built his life on my disability, isolating me, delighting in my helplessness. He had convinced my parents I needed isolation, turning me into a commodity. He didn' t just exploit me; he maintained my torment. How could he be so cruel? But then, a secret journal, hidden by a past self, revealed everything. He hadn't just used me; he was enabling my condition. The realization was sickening. I was trapped, but this time, the truth was burned into my mind. I knew I had to escape.

Introduction

Sunlight hit my face, but I woke to a room I didn' t know, a smiling couple in a picture on the nightstand-strangers. Panic built. Then, a man from the picture walked in, tray in hand. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he said. He was my husband, Ethan, and my name was Ava, but it meant nothing. My memory reset every night, a rare amnesia, he explained.

Then, one evening, it happened. My memory didn' t reset. I remembered everything: his assistant Chloe, their too-familiar glances, and their cruel whispers in his office. "It's convenient," he' d said. "She doesn't remember. I can do whatever I want." He saw me as a broken toy, his "perfect arrangement."

I ran, lost in a city that was supposed to be home. When I returned, defeated, Chloe was on my sofa, wine in hand, acting like she owned the place. "Where else would you go?" she purred. Ethan, instead of concern, was annoyed. When I dared to demand a divorce, he grabbed me, threatening. He coerced me into kneeling before Chloe, forcing me to apologize. Then, she slapped me. He watched.

The monster had built his life on my disability, isolating me, delighting in my helplessness. He had convinced my parents I needed isolation, turning me into a commodity. He didn' t just exploit me; he maintained my torment. How could he be so cruel?

But then, a secret journal, hidden by a past self, revealed everything. He hadn't just used me; he was enabling my condition. The realization was sickening. I was trapped, but this time, the truth was burned into my mind. I knew I had to escape.

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I spent my entire childhood as one-third of an inseparable trio: "EOM Forever." That meant a built-in future, headed to UCLA with my best friends, Olivia and Maya. And by college, I was supposed to choose which of them I' d pledge my heart to. But as my cursor hovered over the UCLA "Submit" button, thinking about that pact, triumph was replaced by a chilling sense of surrender. Instead, on a whim, I clicked "Confirm Enrollment" for Yale. It wasn't just a different school; it was an escape route. Because for months, our tight-knit world had been invaded by Liam Spencer, a charming new transfer. He charmed Olivia and Maya, and then effortlessly pushed me to the sidelines. My messages in our group chat became sparse, often ignored, as their plans revolved around him. Liam's "accidents" were always strangely convenient – a spilled glass of red wine on my laptop, a sudden "fainting spell" right before graduation. And every time, Olivia and Maya leaped to his defense, dismissing my feelings. "It's just a sweatshirt, Ethan," Olivia chided when Liam wore mine. "He needs it more," Maya chimed in, with a heart emoji. The ultimate betrayal came on Decision Day: Liam pushed me, cracking my head open on a stone planter. Even then, as I lay in the hospital, Olivia and Maya pled for his forgiveness, calling him "tormented." How could they be so blind? My childhood best friends had become total strangers, enabling a manipulative narcissist, turning my life into a living hell. I was done being their afterthought, their punching bag. Leaving them behind wasn't just a decision; it was a desperate declaration of war for my own life. But letting go of "EOM Forever" meant they wouldn't let go of me. Not Olivia, not Maya, and certainly not Liam.

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