He Only Remembered Me When I Was Gone

Cassian Allen, my husband, suffers from intermittent amnesia. He forgets me all over again on Thanksgiving night and sends me to the police station on burglary charges. I hurriedly explained to the police officer, "I'm his wife. He suffers from intermittent amnesia. He doesn't recognize anyone when he has an episode, which is why he mistook me for a burglar." The police officer asks, "Do you have any proof of your marital relationship, then?" I perform the anchor gesture, hoping to trigger Cassian's memories. He, however, just stands nearby, watching me without a trace of emotion. He still looks at me as if he doesn't know me, even after thousands of rehabilitation sessions and countless repetitions of the anchor gesture. I feel completely helpless. I ask the police officer, "Why don't you look through his phone then?" It is just that, after looking through his entire phone, there isn't a single photo of me in his photo album, my name isn't saved in his contacts, and even our chat history is completely wiped clean. It seems like I don't exist in Cassian's life, whether he has intermittent amnesia or not. The police officer's expression turns cold. "You shouldn't take your lies too far. He clearly has a girlfriend." He then shows me the photos in Cassian's phone, and every one of them is of his childhood sweetheart, Nadine Fisher. I spot Cassian and Nadine standing in the compound as I am being escorted to the county jail. Nadine speaks up. "You're actually faking amnesia again? What if she finds out, Cassian?" Cassian shrugs with a helpless look. "She's just too clingy. She gives me such a headache, so faking amnesia is the easiest way out. And look, I get to spend Thanksgiving with you now, Nadine!" I know the Thanksgiving feast I have made for Cassian has gone cold at home, just like my feelings for him. I think it is time for me to walk out of his life for good. Chapter 1 I was detained in the county jail for three days, and once I was released, I got my phone back and switched it on. There wasn't a single message or missed call from Cassian Allen, my husband. He hadn't tried to contact me at all. There was a message from the delivery guy, though. He had sent me a message on Thanksgiving night because he couldn't reach me to drop off the artisanal Thanksgiving mini pie set I had reserved a month in advance. I dragged myself home, feeling completely exhausted. I noticed that no one was home. I spotted the open box of artisanal Thanksgiving mini pies on the coffee table, a sign that Cassian had been home. He had even brought Nadine Fisher, his childhood sweetheart, with him. Her personal plate and fork were left on the coffee table, along with a partially eaten black truffle pie on the plate. They must have enjoyed the meal I'd spent all afternoon preparing and admired the home I'd painstakingly decorated for Thanksgiving. They probably walked toward the window after that, taking in the nightscape outside while eating the artisanal Thanksgiving mini pie set I had ordered ahead of time. What was I even doing when Cassian and Nadine were having their Thanksgiving feast? I seemed to be sitting in a dim, cold holding cell, facing the wall and cursing Cassian out. Or perhaps I was curled up on the narrow bed, crying uncontrollably. I had no way of checking the time, so everything felt agonizingly slow—even letting out my grief came with a lag. Just then, a sound came from the doorway. Cassian walked in carrying a few bags. He changed out of his shoes at the entryway and asked, "Where have you been in the past few days, Maeve?" Cassian put on quite a convincing act, as if he had truly suffered an amnesiac episode a few days earlier. I didn't expose his act, asking him instead, "Why didn't you call to check on me, then?" Cassian walked over, put the bags on the coffee table, and sat beside me. "I just wanted to give you some space. I mean, we're married, but that doesn't mean we have to be joined at the hip. We don't need to be around each other every day, nor do we need to check in with each other about everything." I knew exactly what he was getting at. I said, my smile faint, "I guess having our own space is pretty good, too." Cassian looked taken aback, as if he hadn't expected me to say that; after all, I usually spent most of my time with him or messaged him to stay in touch when we weren't together. I wanted to spend all my time with him when we first got married because I loved him and was attached to him. Yet, after Cassian started suffering from intermittent amnesia, I had more to worry about than just staying close to him. I was afraid he'd forget how to get home, forget me altogether, or get pushed around when he was out with no one to back him up. Cassian, however, always treated my concern and constant need to stay in contact as some sort of burden. I asked, "You had Nadine over for Thanksgiving, right? How was it, Cassian?" Cassian was staring down at his phone, completely tuning me out. He finally looked up once I repeated myself, looking dazed. "What did you just ask, Maeve?" I gestured toward the pink plate on the coffee table with my chin. "It's such a shame. There were 12 mini pies in the box, and every single one was tossed aside after just a few bites." There were partially eaten mini pies scattered inside the box—some had barely been touched, their filling smeared across the inside of the lid. I had waited a month for these mini pies, only for Nadine to wreck them all in one night. "You shouldn't have bought so many weird flavors in the first place," Cassian said, then looked back at his phone screen, tapping away as he messaged someone. "Nadine didn't know which ones she liked, so she tasted a bit of each." I stated flatly, "I bought those for myself. I had been waiting for them for a whole month." Cassian frowned slightly and glanced at me. "You're not seriously mad, are you? It's just a box of mini pies; they aren't worth much. If you want them so badly, I'll just buy you new ones." It was true that they weren't that expensive, but Cassian seemed to have forgotten that these were the mini pies we shared up on the roof on Thanksgiving during our first year of marriage. That bakery had been closed for six whole years after that. I put so much effort into getting a pre-order when they reopened this year, thinking it would be a meaningful surprise for Cassian. It turned out he didn't care at all. "I can't talk right now. I have something to take care of," Cassian said as he rose to his feet and briefly turned his screen toward me. It was his chat history with Nadine, a wall of messages filling the screen. He only ever showed that kind of enthusiasm with her. "I bought these plushies for Nadine. I have to take them to her." He picked up the large bags from the coffee table. He took a few steps before turning back and pulling a rabbit plushie out of the bag. "Here you go. That should make up for the mini pies." Cassian hurried out the door after that. I held my breath while stuffing the plushie into a plastic bag, tied it tight, and threw it out the front door. I had to swallow two allergy pills just to ease the irritation on my skin. How could someone who had once taken such good care of me have forgotten that I was allergic to that fur and plushies? I could only come to one conclusion—Cassian had fallen out of love with me a long time ago. Chapter 2 It was getting late, but Cassian still hadn't come home. I instinctively pulled out my phone to call him. It wasn't until I heard the cold, automated voice that I came to my senses. He'd blocked me again. He'd always blocked me whenever he pretended to have amnesia. Left with no options, I ended up begging his friends and business associates to help me get in touch with him. I'd humbled myself and pleaded with them too many times, so much so that everyone in his social circle instantly saw me as a laughingstock. Cassian's friends would even help him deceive me. They'd tell me that he was in the south when he was out with Nadine in the north of the city. I'd rush all the way there, only to find that he'd never been there, while he was already back home, comfortably sipping his coffee. He could always come up with a reasonable explanation—he'd lost his memory, he'd forgotten, and he'd only just remembered. I had been such a fool, completely taken in by him. I went ahead and blocked Cassian too. Nadine's latest social media post showed him watching an opera with her. If we were each going to do our own thing, then so would I. I contacted a few friends and went to a bar with them. It wasn't until the middle of the night that I received a call from an unknown number. "Where the hell are you? Why did you block me? What the hell are you trying to do, Maeve?" He bombarded me with questions, one coming right after another. He had never taken the initiative to contact me for the very first time. I said flatly, "I'm hanging out at a bar right now. Is there something you need?" Cassian asked, "Which bar?" He showed up in less than 30 minutes after I gave him the address. He grabbed the drink out of my hand, hauled me up by the waist, and carried me out to his car. He opened the door, tossed me onto the seat, and slammed it shut. I was so dizzy in the passenger seat that I grabbed at whatever was near me, accidentally ripping down the whole cluster of decorative flowers off the dashboard. Cassian got even angrier when he saw the flowers. "Why did you rip off Nadine's flowers? She's going to make a fuss when she sees them." I wanted to toss the flowers into the back seat, but when I turned to look, I found that it was already packed with Nadine's belongings. Cassian roughly pulled me back and said, "You don't usually drink. What the hell is wrong with you today?" I said indifferently, "You don't usually bother contacting me, either. What is wrong with you today, Cassian?" Cassian choked back a response, turned his face away, and went silent for the rest of the drive. There was a faint citrus scent in the car, which belonged to Nadine. Cassian had never used car fragrances, so I couldn't help wondering how many times she'd sat in his car for the smell to linger in the car like that. I opened the glove compartment to look for something to sober me up, only to find a bunch of Nadine's things packed inside. I noticed that there were hair clips, hair ties, and even a pair of her worn socks sitting right next to Cassian's electric razor. His usual germaphobia seemed to magically disappear whenever it came to her. "I was the one who bought you this car, wasn't I?" I asked as I glanced around the interior, which had changed completely since back then. "How did it end up becoming Nadine's car?" Cassian opened all the car windows and allowed the night wind to blow straight in, making my head throb. He then said sternly, "You'd better sober up and stop throwing these tantrums, Maeve." I rolled the passenger-side window back up myself and looked toward Cassian. I suddenly realized he wasn't quite the same as he used to be—from the way his brows were now constantly furrowed instead of relaxed to how his tone had shifted from gentle to perpetually impatient. "Nadine doesn't know how to drive, so I pick her up and drop her off on my way to work. What's wrong with that? You're at home all day and don't need the car anyway. What's the harm in letting her use it?" Cassian asked, his voice fading into the wind. I caught only fragments of what he said, but they still hurt. I suddenly wanted to cry so badly. I closed my eyes and leaned against the window, letting the wind hit me from every side. I still couldn't stop my eyes from welling up with tears while my heart beat rapidly in my chest. It seemed like my heart had been the same when I had decided to marry Cassian, and it was still the same now that I had decided to leave him. But none of this mattered anymore as he continued to berate me. I took a deep breath just as the wind blew my tears away and said, "Let's get a divorce, Cassian." Chapter 3 I stood on the street as the car quickly vanished from sight, not knowing where to go. I had finally sobered up after everything that had happened, which only made the pain even sharper. I looked around the city, and even at 2:00 am, the streets remained noisy and crowded. There were people and cars that came and went, while the neon lights shone brighter than the night sky. The noisier everything around me got, the quieter my own world grew. I had been here for seven years, and I had never grown accustomed to life in this city. I had only forced myself to put up with it because I was by Cassian's side for so long. I couldn't help but find love to be a terrible thing. It could make people willingly suffer, give up who they were, and lose themselves completely. It could numb them, even make them blind and deaf to the truth, until they could no longer tell whether the person beside them every day was human or a monster. I made my way home one step at a time. It took two hours, crossing eight main roads and three major intersections. I had taken Cassian down this route a hundred times before, showing him every sign and building just in case he lost his memory and couldn't find his way home. Cassian used to ride his bike ahead of me, brushing off my constant nagging. "It's not like I'm stupid. Why wouldn't I know the route?" I picked up my pace to catch up with him. "It could happen, you know. I mean, even I lose my way once in a while." Cassian teased me. "You're terrible with directions. You've been living here for years, and you still manage to get lost going to the local supermarket, Maeve." I really was terrible with directions, but after walking every inch of this route home, I'd memorized it. It was the only road I knew by heart, one I could follow home with my eyes closed. Cassian had always taken the wrong turn, though. He'd either head east and end up at Nadine's apartment, or head west and go to her company. He had been right all along. He was no fool—he knew the directions just fine. He simply didn't want to return home. I mused that if that was the case, then I might as well keep my distance. I stopped and took out my phone—watching the screen light up and go dark again—before I finally made up my mind and booked a flight for the following evening. I then hailed a cab to go home. Cassian was still awake, even though it was already this late. He stood on the balcony, on a video call with Nadine. They talked about everything imaginable, from their plans for tomorrow to the trips they wanted to take next year. Nadine said, "You should just fake amnesia at tomorrow's party so that Maeve won't bother you again. We can make an excuse to leave early and go set off fireworks by the river together, Cassian." Cassian smiled in agreement. Nadine continued, "You and I should go away for a long trip over the holiday this year! I really want to spend the next few months traveling!" Cassian hesitated for a moment. "I don't think that'll work. Maeve's birthday and our wedding anniversary both fall around then, so I need to spend those days with her. In addition, if I keep up the amnesia act for too long, she'll get suspicious, Nadine." Nadine whined. "Oh, come on! I really want to go, so please just come with me, Cassian!" Cassian couldn't resist her constant whining. "Just this once, then." I opened the balcony door. He immediately hid his phone behind his back and eyed me warily. I acted as if I hadn't noticed and started taking my clothes off the drying rack. I then asked casually, "Haven't you gone to bed yet?" Cassian was likely acting out of guilt. He blinked in mock confusion, slipped back into his "amnesia" state, and took a step back, asking, "Who are you?" I replied, "I'm the live-in housekeeper. I handle the cleaning and tidying here." I carried the pile of clothes into the living room and began packing my suitcase right in front of Cassian. Cassian didn't say much. He gave me a serious warning just before he went into the bedroom, saying, "I'm a light sleeper, so don't knock on my door unless it's necessary." "I won't disturb you," I said, nodding my head. I would never interfere with his life again from that moment onward. Chapter 4 I woke up the following morning and found that Cassian was already gone. I packed my bags, had someone send them to the airport ahead of me, and then checked the house to make sure I hadn't left anything behind. I noticed that there were bright sticky notes covering the whole house, making it almost jarring to look at. I had written each and every one of them myself. "I'm Maeve Stewart. I'm married to you, Cassian. "We met on a trip and fell in love at first sight. You were the one who told me you loved me first. "We've been to 15 countries, and we're working toward our goal of traveling around the world. "I love you so much, so please don't hurt me or forget about me, Cassian." I had placed every note somewhere conspicuous. I'd spent years doing everything I could while Cassian pretended to have amnesia, yet he'd never noticed. I took down the notes one by one, tore them into pieces, and threw them away. … After taking care of everything, I went to the restaurant for Yvonne Zeller's birthday party. After all, I wanted to say goodbye to my only true friend before leaving. Yvonne grabbed my arm and said, "Come in! Cassian arrived a long time ago! Why didn't you come together, Maeve?" I merely shook my head in response. "I've arranged a seat for you at the table inside, right beside Cassian," Yvonne said before hurrying off to welcome other guests. I noticed that all the seats were taken by the time I made my way over. Nadine was sitting next to Cassian, while my name tag sat on the floor by the foot of her chair. Almost everyone else at the table was a good friend of Cassian's. I walked up to Nadine and said, "You're in my seat." Nadine acted as if she hadn't heard me and tugged Cassian's sleeve, asking him to peel her shrimp for her. It was then that someone nearby said mockingly, "You've probably made a mistake, miss! Cassian doesn't even seem to know who you are, after all. Isn't it a bit inappropriate to insist on sitting beside him?" Those around the table watched with interest, waiting to see what would happen. Their commotion soon attracted the attention of those nearby, and murmurs spread through the crowd. I stood alone in the middle of it all, looking rather awkward. Nadine turned to Cassian and asked, "Do you know her, Cassian?" Cassian glanced at me. He pursed his lips and seemed on the verge of speaking, but he ended up shaking his head instead. Everyone at the table broke into laughter. "You'd better leave now, miss! You're not welcome here!" "It's so hilarious! She's throwing herself at him, and he couldn't care less!" I suspected that Cassian's friends knew he was faking his amnesia. They had all kept it a secret from me and treated my suffering as a joke. They treated me the way Cassian did—the less he cared, the bolder they became. In the past, they used to make me cry all the time, but now, I felt no emotional reaction at all. I turned away and looked for a free spot in the restaurant. Cassian kept his eyes on me the whole way. He had seen how awkward things were for me, but he still said nothing. I eventually found a seat in the corner and took a seat. I could hear the laughter from Cassian's table even half a restaurant away. Nadine had too much to drink and was nestled in his arms, pouting and acting like a spoiled child. Cassian, on the other hand, had completely put me out of his mind. It seemed I was the only one who had been deeply affected by those seven years, while to him, they meant nothing at all. Yvonne rushed over after seeing me get up and asked, "Where are you off to, Maeve? Cassian hasn't left yet. He's suffering from intermittent amnesia at the moment. Aren't you going to take him back first?" I gently pushed Yvonne's hand away and said, "Cassian will know how to find his way back once I'm gone. I'll see you again if we get the chance. I'll be leaving Brightwell now, Yvonne…" In the end, as the plane took off and left the city behind, all I had left was a signed divorce agreement. I was finally bidding farewell to my past once and for all.