Chapter 1Take the Pill, Lose the Past

Zoey always said she was a creature of deep, abiding love.

But on the day her first love was diagnosed with terminal cancer, she handed me a pill designed to erase my memories.

“Cary,” she pleaded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, “Leo is dying. Just give me three days. It’s his dying wish—a wedding.”

“I won’t let it hurt you,” she promised, her voice a soft, persuasive whisper. “This pill causes temporary amnesia. After the wedding, you’ll take the antidote, you’ll love me again, and we can get remarried. It’ll be like nothing ever happened.”

Staring at the resolute set of her jaw, I took the pill from her palm and swallowed it without a second thought.

What Zoey didn’t know is that I was the one who developed this drug.

And there is no cure.

In three days, I will have forgotten her completely.

* * *

As we stepped out of City Hall, the divorce papers feeling flimsy and unreal in my hand, Zoey glanced at her watch.

“The drug will kick in in two minutes,” she said, her tone meticulously practical. “For the next three days, you’ll forget you ever loved me. And once you take the antidote, you won’t remember any of this, so there’s no chance of you getting hurt.”

She reached out, her fingers cool against my cheek. “Our divorce is just a formality, a temporary measure. When this is over, we’ll be together again. You’re the only man I’ll ever truly call my husband, Cary. You know that.”

I watched her in silence, the bitter truth a stone in my throat. There would be no reunion.

As the drug’s lead researcher, I knew its true nature all too well. It didn’t wipe your memory clean in an instant. It was a slow erosion, a creeping tide that washed away the memories of your most beloved, piece by agonizing piece.

And the antidote she spoke of? It didn't exist. Not yet.

But she was blissfully unaware.

“Are you sure you won’t regret this?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

A fond smile touched her lips as she ruffled my hair. “Leo has loved me for so many years. His only wish is to have a wedding with me. How can I say no? And no, I won’t regret doing what’s right.” She framed my face with her hands. “Cary, you’ve always been the kindest, most understanding man I know. There’s no need to be jealous of a dying man. Once this is all over, we’ll go right back to our happy life.”

A humorless smile twisted my lips. I let the acidic wave of sorrow wash over me, saying nothing more.

I remembered the year we were most in love. I’d landed a major account for her, drinking myself sick until I was vomiting blood. She’d stayed up all night fighting to get my stolen research back, pushing herself until she developed a heart arrhythmia.

Later, I’d teased her. “What if I get old and my memory goes? What if I forget you?”

Her eyes had instantly reddened. She’d crushed her lips to mine in a fierce, desperate kiss. “Cary, I love you,” she’d choked out. “Promise me you’ll never forget me. I think I’d go mad.”

And now, hearing that her old flame had cancer, she was the one orchestrating my forgetting. Divorcing me, feeding me a pill to erase every trace of our life together.

She wanted to give him three days of her love, I guessed. A perfect, untarnished love, free from the inconvenient existence of a husband. An exclusive, complete devotion.

But if she was brave enough to betray me so openly, why bother with the charade of a future reunion?

I let out a dry, self-mocking laugh.

Suddenly, a sharp pain lanced through my skull. My body swayed, and I pitched forward. Zoey’s reflexes were sharp; she caught me, her beautiful eyes filled with a sudden, deep concern.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong? If you’re scared… if you’re worried I won’t come back, I can give you the divorce certificate, all the papers. You can hold onto them.”

I pushed myself upright, blinking at her with what I hoped was a look of genuine confusion. “What divorce certificate?”

Zoey froze, then her expression shifted. “Cary,” she said, her voice cautious, “we just got divorced. Do you remember?”

“Divorced?”

Seeing the blank look on my face, a flicker of something—relief? joy?—danced in her eyes before she could hide it.

My gaze fell to the papers still clutched in my hand. I understood.

The drug was starting to work. The first memory to go was the most recent, most painful one: our divorce.

Zoey quickly snatched the certificate from my grasp, as if afraid I’d see her name next to mine. She softened her voice, weaving a new reality. “Cary, I’m your sister. You’ve been ill, you’ve lost some of your memories. I’ll keep these important documents safe for you.”

I looked up, meeting her darting, evasive eyes, and said nothing to challenge the lie.

Fine. If she wanted to play a part, I would play along.

Just then, a low voice called out. “Zoey! There you are.”

I turned to see Leo jogging toward us. He stumbled on an uneven paving stone, lurching forward.

In a heartbeat, Zoey dropped my arm and lunged to steady him.

The sudden release sent me stumbling backward into the hard brick wall of the building. My head, already throbbing with a needle-like pain, exploded in a fresh wave of agony.

Leo clung to Zoey’s hand, his arm snaking around her waist as he flashed a triumphant smile. “Thanks for catching me, Zoey.”

Realization dawned on her face. She blanched, pushing him away as her gaze snapped back to me. “Cary! Are you hurt? I’m so sorry, Leo’s sick… if he falls and starts bleeding, it might not stop. I had to catch him first.”

I had already straightened up, brushing the dust from my jacket and swallowing the pain. “I’m fine.”

Leo stepped closer again, his hand finding Zoey’s arm, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Zoey, what took you so long? It’s just a divorce. I was waiting forever.”

Noticing my stare, Zoey cleared her throat, her guilt palpable. But she didn’t pull her arm away. “It’s done,” she said to him. “We can focus on the wedding now.”

Leo’s face lit up. He shot me a smug, victorious glance. “Cary, your sister and I have been in love for five years. We’re finally getting married. The wedding is in three days. You have to be there.”

I forced a smile. “It’s my sister’s wedding. Of course, I’ll be there.”

His grin widened. “Great. You can be our photographer. Make sure you get a perfect shot of me and Zoey kissing at the altar…”

“Leo,” Zoey cut in, her voice sharp with warning. She looked at me, a strange flicker of disappointment in her eyes when she found no trace of pain in mine. “He doesn’t need to come to our wedding.”

My expression remained placid.

Seeing Zoey defend me, Leo’s brow furrowed. He suddenly sagged against her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “Zoey,” he whimpered, “my heart… it hurts. I can’t breathe.”

Instantly, all her attention was on him, her eyes wide with alarm. “Is it happening again? Just hold on, I’ll get you to the hospital.”

She glanced back at me, her voice low. “Cary, do you remember the way home? Should I have someone drive you?”

I shook my head. “I remember.”

She hesitated. The staff at the clinic had told her the drug only erased memories of a loved one, leaving everything else intact. The thought that I was her greatest love, the one being erased, seemed to momentarily soothe her.

“Okay. You go on home, then. I’m taking Leo to the hospital.”

With that, she guided a leaning, weakened Leo to her car. He kept his arm draped around her shoulders, his voice faint but clear. “Zoey, to be held by you like this, out in the open… even if I died right now, it would all be worth it.”

“Don’t say such foolish things,” she chided gently.

Through the car window, I watched as she leaned over to fasten his seatbelt. He suddenly wrapped an arm around her neck, pulling her close and pressing a soft kiss to her earlobe.

The intimate, tender gesture sent a blade of ice through my heart. The sting of betrayal, sharp and undeniable.

Her car sped away, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust. A moment later, my phone rang.

“Mr. Reed,” a voice with a French accent said, “The Moreau Institute in Paris has prepared your orientation. We look forward to welcoming you in three days.”