Chapter 2My Amnesiac Wife Slips Up

In the end, Helen gave in.

By the time I drove to the bar, she was hanging out with a crowd of young rich kids.

Every one of them was a notorious playboy in our circle.

Before her memory loss, Helen almost never associated with people like them. To her, they were nothing but a pack of useless leeches living off their parents' money and wasting their lives.

But after she lost her memory, she became one of them.

Soon, someone noticed me.

"Whoa, Helen, isn't that your husband?" The guy sneered, "What's this? The great Jordan Randolph, in a place like this? Scared your wife won't come home tonight, so you came to fetch her yourself?"

Everyone in the booth burst out laughing.

Only Tyler, sitting beside Helen, looked sullen.

That made sense. He was the one seducing my wife. How could he laugh at a joke like that?

He glared at me viciously, his eyes full of wariness and resentment.

Helen sat in the middle of the booth. Faced with my arrival and everyone's jokes, she showed nothing but impatience.

She took a small sip from her glass and parted her red lips. "What a buzzkill."

My face stayed blank. Forcing myself to ignore her disgust, I said quietly, "Let's go. It's time to go home."

At that, Tyler immediately put on a wounded look. He tugged at her arm and whined, "Babe, I'm not done having fun yet."

Helen's face filled with tenderness, and she quickly pulled his head close, soothing him in a soft voice.

The two of them nuzzled and whispered to each other, wrapped up in their own world as if no one else were there.

Standing off to the side, I looked exactly like the villain trying to tear apart a pair of lovebirds.

Even the carefree rich kids around us couldn't stand to watch.

But they weren't about to stand up for me. They were planning to add fuel to the fire.

"Jordan, we're having a great time here. Barging in like this isn't very nice, is it?"

The guy picked up a bottle of liquor and looked at me with a teasing grin. "Of course, man, I get it. You want to protect your wife. Tell you what. Chug this bottle, and she's all yours."

I frowned and was about to refuse, but Helen, off to the side, was only too happy to watch the drama unfold.

"My family does business with his. I came here tonight to talk about a partnership. If he says no, I really can't leave."

She pulled free of my hand and sat back down in the booth, watching me with interest to see how I would handle this.

Things between the two of us were strained now, but the Watkins elders had always been good to me. I couldn't bring myself to do anything that would hurt their company.

The guy was obviously trying to make things hard for me.

But if I didn't drink, he could easily turn around and make trouble for the Watkins family in their partnership.

I picked up the bottle. Just the smell of it made my stomach turn.

I'd had stomach problems for years. I had even been hospitalized for it several times.

Back then, Helen had rushed around every day, learning to cook all kinds of meals that were easy on the stomach.

She was a pampered heiress, yet for the sake of my health, she had been willing to put on an apron and clumsily learn how to make those dishes.

"If you don't behave and end up in the hospital with your stomach again, I'll go binge on junk food and ruin my health too!"

Back then, she had glared at me as she said it, half sulking.

It was as if my health were everything to her.

The person from the past and the Helen in front of me overlapped, yet the two could never become one.

Under the mocking stares of everyone, Helen included, I raised the bottle to my lips.

"Fine. I'll drink it."