Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English | NEW
Synopsis
I had been unconscious in the hospital for three whole days.
When I opened my eyes, my phone screen was still glowing, stuck on the pinned chat on SnapChat.
Three days ago, I had bombarded him with voice messages.
My final text had been completely hysterical:
[Julian, if you dare go to Mandy’s press conference today, I’ll crash my car into the guardrail!]
Ten minutes later, he had replied with three chilling words:
[Suit yourself.]
I pressed my fingers against my throbbing temples, my mind a complete blank.
Julian? Mandy?
Why on earth would I crash my car into a guardrail?
My memories were clearly stuck back when I was twenty years old.
That night, I had just finished an indie rock gig and was in our dorm mocking girls who lost their minds and wanted to die over some guy.
Yet the phone in my hand, and the year displayed on the screen, coldly reminded me that time had jumped six years into the future.
Desperate to figure out what had happened over these six years, I swiped open the screen to check my camera roll, but a breaking news notification popped up:
[Sterling Group Invests $50M in Rising Musician Mandy Evans; Mrs. Sterling Hospitalized After Car Crash Suspected of Jealous Fit]
In the article’s photo, Julian Sterling—the senior from college I used to harbor a crush on—stood tall beneath flashing cameras.
Looking sharp in a tailored suit, he was handing a microphone to a teary-eyed young woman.
The comment section was flooded with mockery:
"Is this Mrs. Sterling making a scene again? Hasn't she had enough after three years?"
"She practically begged and forced Julian to sign marriage papers back then. She didn't even get a real wedding! Now he's just looking after his late mentor’s daughter, and she’s throwing tantrums again."
"I heard she even tried pulling a car crash stunt this time. Julian didn’t even bother visiting her at the hospital. What a joke."
Within minutes, I scrolled through our chat logs and trending posts on Ins.
It was absurd.
Refusing to believe it, I opened the front camera.
The screen reflected my face.
Sunken eyes, sheer exhaustion. My once rebellious, edgy short hair had been replaced by tame, long black locks.
I jerked my head down to stare at my left hand.
From years of playing guitar, my fingertips used to be covered in thick calluses.
Now, my fingertips were smooth and soft, tipped with an expensive manicure.
And on my ring finger sat a diamond wedding band.
I reached over and unzipped the purse on the nightstand.
Inside was my ID card, confirming my age was twenty-six.
There were also half-empty bottles of antidepressants and sleeping pills.
Every single clue pointed to one undeniable truth:
I hadn’t traveled through time—I had amnesia.
Savannah, the girl who once swore she would never bend over backward for any man, had married Julian Sterling at twenty-three.
Over three years of loveless marriage, I had spiraled into clinical depression, popping pills just to get through the day, consumed by petty jealousy.
I had even reported Mandy for plagiarism, only for my own husband to publicly humiliate me, which finally led to me swallowing sleeping pills and driving straight into a guardrail.
This marriage had turned me into a miserable, bitter wreck.
I dropped the pill bottles back into the bag. After a long silence, a self-deprecating laugh escaped my lips.
People bustled past in the hallway outside.
The nurse changing my IV glanced at me with pity. "Miss Hayes, your concussion hasn’t fully healed yet. Is any family coming to help you with the admission paperwork today?"
Family?
My lawful husband had just blown fifty million dollars just to make his little muse smile.
"No need. I can discharge myself."
I shook my head, directly pulling the IV needle from the back of my hand.
Ignoring the nurse's protests, I walked straight out of the ER.
Even if my marriage was a disaster, and even if I had lost my memories—
It wasn’t too late. I refused to let myself live like this for another second.
I was going to end this marriage!
Stepping outside, I hailed a cab and gave the driver the villa address I had found on my phone.
Soon enough, we pulled up outside the estate. I pressed my thumb against the biometric lock, and the door clicked open.
So I really had been living here since getting married.
I headed upstairs to the master bedroom on the second floor. After digging through the drawers, I finally found our marriage certificate inside the nightstand.
In the photo on the certificate, I was smiling sweetly. I could easily imagine the radiant, naive hope I must have felt on our wedding day.
I let out a cold sneer. Overwhelmed by sudden disgust, I hurled it into the trash can.
Then I remembered I would actually need the certificate to finalize the divorce. Just as I bent down to retrieve it,
a cold voice cut through the air:
"What do you think you’re doing?"
I turned around.
Julian was standing by the doorway, his face icy and his dark eyes terrifyingly grim.My chest tightened as our eyes locked.
He stood across the room, his gaze fixing on the marriage certificate lying in the bin by my feet.
His expression was as cold as frost.
After a few silent seconds, he stepped into the room.
He bent down and picked the certificate out of the trash.
"Throwing out our marriage certificate? You really think that solves anything?" Julian scoffed.
His tone chilled even further as he added, "Crashing your car couldn't force me to the hospital, so now you’re trying a new routine?"
The wound on my forehead throbbed with sharp pain, and the nausea from my concussion made it hard to keep my balance.
I braced myself against the desk, not even having the energy to look at his face.
If this were the me of the past three years, I probably would have thrown myself at him, crying and screaming my eyes out.
Right now, my head was spinning and my body ached.
Facing this man—someone I once harbored a secret crush on, who now treated me with absolute apathy—I felt only suffocation.
A deep revulsion stirred within me. Not knowing how to deal with him, I kept my voice barely above a whisper:
"I just came to pack my documents."
Julian began loosening his tie, his hand pausing for a beat.
Seeing me keep my head down and quietly pack my things, his brow furrowed deeper.
He took a stride forward, blocking my path.
He was tall, and being this close to him radiated an overwhelming, suffocating pressure.
"Savannah, know when to stop."
He glared at me coldly. "I've already wired fifty million into Mandy’s studio. Even if you totaled ten cars, I wouldn't pull my investment. How long do you plan on throwing these tantrums?"
His scent drifted toward me, making my muscles tense instinctively.
In my active memories, I was still a college student yesterday, someone who hadn't even held this man’s hand.
This proximity made my entire body stiffen.
I gripped the desk and took a step back, widening the distance between us.
"That fifty million came from you. It has nothing to do with me."
A flicker of surprise crossed his face, as if he hadn't expected me to be so compliant.
Then, assuming it was another game, he sneered, "Smartened up today, haven't you? No screaming, no smashing things. Realized those theatrics don't work on me anymore?"
Not wanting to argue, I simply replied, "I was an idiot back then. I won't be anymore."
He looked down at me with disdain. "Looks like a few days in the hospital actually did you some good."
I zipped up my bag, pointed at the certificate on the table, and said calmly,
"Let’s go to City Hall tomorrow and finalize the divorce."
Julian's expression instantly shifted.
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What kind of trick are you pulling now?"
I shook my head, a bitter curve touching my lips. "I’m exhausted. And I assume you’re tired of this too. Once we’re divorced, you can be with Mandy out in the open. Isn't that what you want?"
The impatience in his eyes resurfaced.
"Playing hard to get? Savannah, you haven’t worked a single day since we got married. Do you honestly think you can survive on your own?"
"I’ve explained this hundreds of times—I have zero personal feelings for Mandy! I’m only looking after her because she’s my mentor’s daughter. What is so wrong with that? Why do you constantly drag our marriage into this?"
I looked up into his eyes, swallowing the rising lump in my throat.
Word by word, I asked, "Can you swear to God that you don't have a single ounce of feeling for her?"
Julian froze, unable to give an immediate answer.
Then, annoyance flared in his voice. "I told you I don’t! Why can’t you ever trust me? Does it kill you that much to see me take care of my mentor’s child?"
A faint smirk touched my lips. I had no desire to debate right and wrong with him.
The undeniable fact was that a third person had always crowded our marriage.
Tormenting each other like this was completely pointless.
Even though I had lost the memories of those three years, the pain had been real.
Even if I hadn’t consciously lived through it, I could still feel the crushing despair lingering in my chest.
It was suffocating me.
All I wanted was to get away from here. Grabbing my bag, I said, "Take your time to think it over, but let’s sign the papers soon. I have things to handle tonight, and I won't be staying here."
Avoiding his gaze, I walked briskly toward the door.
From behind, Julian’s cold voice echoed: "Are you sure about this? Step out that door, and there is no coming back."
My steps paused for half a second, but I kept walking down the stairs without looking back.
The moment I stepped outside, the cool night breeze stung the cut on my forehead.Just as I was about to order an Uber, my screen lit up with an incoming call from a high-end boutique.
I answered it.
"Good evening, Mrs. Sterling," the associate said politely. "The custom evening gown you ordered three months ago is ready. You can drop by tomorrow morning for a final fitting and pick it up."
Standing under the streetlamp, fragmented memories drifted through my mind.
Right. I had ordered that gown months ago specifically to accompany Julian to tonight's charity gala.
Now, this marriage had run its course.
Canceling the dress would be a fitting closure.
"Alright," I replied. "I'll be there tomorrow morning."
After hanging up, I took a cab and checked into a nearby hotel.
Between the fever-reducing meds and the lingering concussion, I drifted through a night of feverish nightmares.
It wasn't until daylight broke that my head finally cleared.
Later that morning, I walked into the boutique and explained why I was there.
The manager led me into the fitting room, where I slipped on the gown.
It truly was a masterpiece, custom-tailored to hug every curve of my waist flawlessly.
Right then, the glass doors of the salon chimed open.
Mandy walked in, wearing oversized sunglasses.
Her gaze swept across the floor, locking straight onto the gown I was wearing, her eyes flashing with pure envy.
Once she realized it was me, she froze for a second before slipping off her sunglasses and stepping over with an innocent smile.
"Savannah? What a coincidence!"
The smile on her face seemed sweet, yet dripping with mockery. "That dress is gorgeous. But haven't you always hated these high-society parties? Why not just let me have it?"
I looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror. "No. I'm wearing it tonight."
Mandy’s smile hardened, replaced by a subtle sneer.
"Why force yourself? You can't force love, you know. Don't you know who actually holds Julian’s heart?"
I turned around, matching her mocking gaze. "Really? All I know is that on paper, I'm his legal wife. Isn't that enough?"
Mandy dropped her act, her expression souring.
"You probably don't know this, but Julian didn't 'forget' your birthday last year. I was sick, and he stayed by my side the entire night."
"And on your wedding anniversary? I was feeling down, so he spent the whole night keeping me company. Julian doesn't care about you at all. Clinging to the title of Mrs. Sterling like a desperate parasite—don't you feel pathetic?"
A pang of dull ache hit my chest, but I maintained a cold, piercing glare.
"Parading around as a dirty side chick—if you don't feel ashamed, I feel ashamed on your late father’s behalf."
The color drained from Mandy's face. The words lodged in her throat, leaving her temporarily speechless.
Her chest heaved with rage as she glared daggers at me.
"Savannah, keep acting tough."
She whipped out her phone and dialed Julian.
"Let's see how Julian reacts when he hears how you slander his mentor."
The call connected almost instantly, and she couldn't wait to play the victim:
"Julian, I found the most gorgeous gown, and Savannah is here too, but she refuses to let me have it."
"We had a little disagreement, and she started saying horrible things about my dad."
Silence hung over the receiver for a second before Julian’s deep voice came through:
"Is Savannah next to you? Put her on."
A smug smirk flashed across Mandy’s face as she switched to speakerphone and held the screen in front of me.
Julian’s familiar voice drifted out, smooth, calm, and utterly biased:
"Savannah, give the dress to Mandy. It's very important for her tonight. I'll take you out to buy a better one in a few days."
Holding the phone, I asked coldly, "Julian, I ordered this dress three months ago specifically to go to the gala with you. It's important to her, so my feelings don't matter at all?"
Julian paused. "It’s just a dress. Why do you always have to blow things out of proportion?"
He hadn't even bothered to ask what had happened. He had just instantly ordered me to hand over what was mine.
I gripped the phone tightly. "Julian, in your eyes, I'm always the one who has to back down, aren't I?"
I stood there, feeling a chill seep into my bones.
"Fine. She can have the dress."
Looking at Mandy, I said calmly, "I paid twenty thousand dollars in full for this gown. Venmo me right now."
Julian's voice chimed in over the phone: "I'll have Carter wire you fifty thousand."
I hung up on him immediately.
Stepping back into the fitting room, I changed back into my own clothes and handed the gown to the shop assistant.
"Box it up for Miss Evans. Mr. Sterling has already paid for it."
Mandy tilted her chin up triumphantly. "Savannah, you’ll never beat me."
I gave her an indifferent look.
"The dress is yours. Enjoy wearing fifty-thousand-dollar sloppy seconds."
Leaving her with a furious scowl, I turned and walked straight out of the store.
Stepping into the bright daylight, the last trace of hesitation in my heart completely vanished.
No wonder the old Savannah had been driven to drive into a guardrail.
Trapped with a husband who perpetually sided with someone else, enduring it for three whole years—anyone would have lost their mind.
That single phone call was all I needed to see through him completely.After leaving the boutique, I stopped by a local print shop and paid two dollars to print out a divorce agreement.
I hadn't planned on attending the gala tonight.
Yet I changed my mind.
This event had been on Julian’s calendar for three months, and I was originally scheduled to be on his arm.
Since I was determined to end things, handing him the papers face-to-face tonight would make for a clean, definitive break.
At eight in the evening, dressed in a simple outfit, I boarded the luxury cruise liner.
Inside the grand ballroom, crystal chandeliers glittered over a sea of high society.
Instead of mingling, I walked straight to the dimmest, most secluded corner of the lounge and sat down.
Within minutes, a shadow fell over me.
Julian stood before me.
He stared down at me, his brows knitted tightly.
A mix of exhaustion and suppressed confusion flickered in his eyes as he spoke:
"I thought you weren't coming. Why didn't you call me to pick you up? Are you still sulking over a dress?"
I looked up at his handsome, stony face, having no interest in making a scene here. "I have two legs. I don't need you to chauffeur me around."
I reached into my purse to pull out the divorce papers, ready to hand them over and leave.
Right at that moment, Mandy approached.
Naturally slipping beside Julian, she softly reminded him that several senior business associates were waiting for him by the terrace.
Julian glanced at me, holding back his frustration. "Just sit here for now. When the gala is over, you’re coming home with me."
"No need. I can get home myself. When you have a minute, we need to talk."
A flash of surprise crossed Julian's eyes. He paused, said nothing, and turned away.
Mandy trailed right behind him, casting a smug, provocative glance back at me with a smirk.
I ignored her pathetic games and looked away. Suddenly, my phone buzzed on the table.
[Look at that temper. And here I thought you’d gotten used to being a doormat.]
The sender was Ryder.
Looking at that name, fragments of college memories flickered into focus.
Ryder Vance—the wealthy heir who had sponsored my college rock band.
Three years ago, he had subtly and openly warned me not to throw my youth away by becoming a submissive housewife.
After the wedding, to appease Julian's jealousy, I had cut off ties with nearly all my male friends, including him.
I hadn't expected him to be here tonight.
Then again, with his family background, an invitation to a high-society event like this was standard.
Trusting my instincts, I looked up toward the second-floor mezzanine. Sure enough, there he was.
Dressed in a sleek leather jacket, he leaned against the brass railing, raising his glass toward me in a silent salute.
I offered a polite nod, grabbed my clutch, and walked outside.
I wasn't in the mood to catch up with an old flame right now.
Besides, this wasn't the place for it.
Stepping onto the open-air deck, the river breeze hit me with a chill.
Before long, familiar footsteps clicked behind me.
Mandy stopped beside the railing, her tone airy and condescending: "Savannah, honestly, you shouldn't have come tonight. Even if you hold the legal title of Mrs. Sterling, everyone here can see who Julian really protects."
I turned to face her, about to speak, when the deck beneath us suddenly violently shuddered.
BOOM!
A muffled explosion ripped through the lower hull of the ship.
The lights cut out instantly. Thick, acrid black smoke billowed out of the ventilation shafts, and screams erupted inside the ballroom.
Above us, a heavy decorative lighting truss shook loose from the ceiling, tilting dangerously and crashing right toward where we stood!
Through the panic and smoke, Julian’s figure burst onto the deck.
Mandy and I were standing barely two feet apart.
Yet in that split second of raw instinct, Julian lunged forward, grabbed Mandy’s arm, yanked her into the safety of the corridor, and shielded her body entirely with his own.
I was slammed into by the stampeding crowd, tumbling hard onto the wooden deck.
The metal lighting truss crashed down just inches from me, spraying shattered glass everywhere as thick, suffocating smoke flooded my lungs.
Through the chaos, I stared at Julian's back, watching him fiercely protecting Mandy. A sharp, hollow ache pierced my chest.
Coughing violently on the smoke, tears welled in my eyes—whether from the soot or the heartbreak, I couldn't tell.
Suddenly, a strong hand gripped my arm, hauling me upward with immense force.
It was Ryder. I had no idea when he had rushed down.
Looking pale with worry, he ripped off his jacket, pressing it over my nose and mouth. "What are you doing zoning out?! Move!"
I blinked in a daze, letting him pull me along through the crowd.
Ten minutes later, the passengers were evacuated to the safety of the top observation deck.
I leaned against the railing, hunched over, hacking up dark, sooty phlegm.
Not far away, Julian was handing a trembling Mandy over to the onboard paramedics.
He turned, his eyes searching frantically through the crowd.
The moment he spotted me standing with Ryder, his clenched jaw slightly relaxed.
Striding over, his eyes quickly scanned me for injuries, but his first instinct was still to scold me: "Why did you run off instead of staying in the lounge? Don't you know how to follow the evacuation crowd?"
As he spoke, he reached out to grab my arm. "Are you hurt?"
Using the iron railing for leverage, I straightened my posture.
Right before his fingers could graze my skin, I drew back my right arm and, with every ounce of strength left in my body, slapped him across the face.
SLAP!
"Julian, we’re getting a divorce."
I looked at him, my expression deathly calm, but my eyes completely devoid of warmth. "That slap settles everything between us. We're done."
Chapters (4)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Watch & Promotions
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