The Heart He Left Behind

With the New Year looming, desperation forced my hand. I posted an ad offering my services as a rental boyfriend to cover mounting medical bills.

Seven days of silence. Then my first client bit. She didn't ask for photos. Didn't haggle. Just wired a deposit ten times the asking rate.

We agreed to meet at the park.

She stood bathed in sunlight, radiating an elegance that made her look like royalty stranded in the mundane world.

"Excuse me." I approached tentatively. "Are you Miss Henson?"

She spun around. Before I could react, she launched herself into my arms, her voice thick with emotion. "Alex! It really is you!"

Panic surged. I shoved her away. "Miss Henson, you have the wrong person. I'm not Alex. My name is William Lambert."

"No!" Vivian Henson shook her head frantically. "You're Alex Farley! This parkthis is where we first met. I fell into the lake. You didn't care about the freezing cold; you jumped in and saved me."

I followed her gaze to the water. Confusion clouded my mind.

Nothing. Not a flicker of recognition.

"Alex," she whispered. "Do you really not remember any of it?"

Tears blurred her vision. She reached out to stroke my cheek.

"Don't touch me!"

The shout tore from my throat. I recoiled violently, stumbling backward until I lost my footing and crashed to the ground.

Vivian froze, shock written across her face.

I forced a bitter smile, trying to steady my breathing. "I'm sorry, Miss Henson. I don't know why, but my body... it violently rejects facial contact. Like I've been infected with a virus."

It wasn't an exaggeration. Even when my parents tried to touch my face, a chill would run down my spine, paralyzing me with terror.

"How is that possible?" Her voice trembled. "You used to love it when I touched your face. You said it felt warm. You said it made you happy."

She'd clearly mistaken me for someone else. I dusted myself off and stood. "Miss Henson, I don't want to take advantage of your grief. I'll return your deposit. I can't take this job."

I reached for my phone.

"No!" Vivian lunged forward, gripping my wrist. "You're Alex Farley. You've just lost your memory. Date me like before, and you'll remember! We loved each other more than life itself. We would have died for one another!"

I froze.

My parents told me I was fished out of the sea five years ago. The doctors confirmed severe amnesia.

But how did she know such a private detail?

Could it be true? Were we really lovers?

"Alex," she pleaded softly. "Come with me. Okay?"

With sunlight framing her silhouette, Vivian extended her hand, offering a sweet, hopeful smile. It felt like a spring breeze sweeping through the ruins of my mind.

I hesitated. If I went with her, maybe I could finally learn the truth about my past.

I nodded and reached out.

But the instant my fingertips brushed hers, a sharp pain pierced my chestlike a needle stabbing directly into my heart.

Back then... did she and I really love each other that much?

Carrying that doubt, I followed Vivian through winding streets until we arrived at a wonton shop tucked in a quiet alley.

"Well, look who it is!" The owner, Mrs. Abbott, wiped her hands on her apron and beamed. "Haven't seen you two in five or six years. You must be married by now, right? Any little ones running around?"

Her warm greeting suggested we had indeed been regulars herea loving couple.

"Not... not yet." Vivian's gaze shifted, avoiding the woman's eyes. "Two bowls of wontons, Mrs. Abbott. No scallions."

"Coming right up!"

Mrs. Abbott returned quickly with two steaming bowls.

"Eat while it's hot." Vivian handed me a spoon, her eyes distant. "There used to be so much good food in this alley."

I ate in silence, listening to her reconstruct a life I couldn't remember.

"When we were in college, we came here all the time," Vivian said, her voice thick with nostalgia. "We'd stroll around, buying grilled skewers, stinky tofu, candied hawthorns... and we'd always end the night with a bowl of wontons, eating slowly to make the time last."

She looked at me, her eyes glistening. "You always fed me the first bite. You called it a gesture of love. I used to blush and turn away at first, but eventually, I couldn't eat without you doing it."

She laughed softly, lost in the memory. "Neither of us came from money. We didn't want the other to spend a dime, so we'd fight over the bill every time. People used to whisper that we were just showing off."

She kept talking, weaving a tapestry of a perfect past.

Finally, Vivian beamed and pulled a delicate fishbone necklace from her collar. "Look. You carved this for me by hand. I've never taken it off." She leaned in, her gaze intense. "Now... do you remember anything?"

I met her stare. "No."

The warmth on Vivian's face shattered. Expectation curdled into disappointment. Her knuckles went white as she clenched her fists.

"If we were such a loving couple," I said, setting down my chopsticks, "why was I found drifting in a river with no memory? What actually happened to me?"

Vivian opened her mouth, then closed it. She looked like she was choking on a secret.

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.

A phone buzzed against the table. Vivian snatched it up and hurried outside to answer.

But she wasn't fast enough. I caught the caller ID.

Husband.

So much for that incomparable love, I thought. So much for "dying for each other."

It seemed our fairy tale had a rotten ending.

When Vivian returned, she tugged at my arm, her smile plastered back in place. "I kept everything from our past. It's all in a room at the villa." Her grip tightened. "If you see it, you'll remember."

I nodded. "Fine."

Since things had come to this, I might as well figure out the truth.

An hour later, we arrived at a villa. Vivian led me to a room and pushed open the heavy oak door.

A time capsule.

A bulky computer from five years ago sat on the desk. A yellowing calendar hung on the wall.

And then, the photo.

Me in a sharp suit. Her in a pure white wedding dress. Our fingers interlocked, our smiles wide.

"I recreated your study exactly as it was," Vivian said softly. "Take your time. I'll make you some tea."

She backed out, closing the door gently behind her.

I scanned the room. My gaze landed on a leather-bound diary in the desk drawer. I picked it up and flipped through.

October 1st, Rain.

Vivian wasn't busy today, so we curled up together to watch shows. Listening to the rain... I've never been happier.

I made Vivian a small cake; she fed the first bite to me.

October 20th, Night.

I had a fever. Vivian postponed all her meetings just to stay by my bedside.

Dozens of entries, chronicling every detail between me and Vivian.

I flipped to the last page.

A farewell letter.

Sorry, Vivian. Over this past year, I've felt more and more inferior.

You're too outstanding. Too dazzling.

I'm not worthy of you, so I've decided to leave. Don't look for me, and please don't blame me.

"So I left on my own?"

I frowned. The words made me feel like a cowarda deserter. A pang of guilt struck me; perhaps I had misjudged Vivian's sincerity.

Bang!

The door exploded inward.

A man stormed in, his face twisted with rage.

"Alex Farley!"

He jabbed a shaking finger at me. "Why aren't you dead? Why are you haunting me? It's been five yearsare you back to take everything from me?"

I barely had time to turn my head.

A fist connected with my eye, the impact instantaneous and blinding. Pain exploded across my face as my brow bone split open. Warm blood gushed down, clouding my vision.

Before I could scramble away, the intruder grabbed a heavy vase from the side table.

Crash.

He smashed it against my skull.

Gravity took over. I collapsed, hitting the floor hard.

Blood poured into my eyes and ears, turning the world into a spinning, red-tinted nightmare. My mind went blank, consciousness flickering like a dying bulb.

"Alex Farley!"

The voice dripped with malice.

"Look at you. Pathetic. No different than five years ago when we bagged you up like garbage and tossed you aside."

He kicked me in the ribs, knocking the wind out of me.

"Just like a dog!" he spat. "You think Vivian wants you back? Give it up! She's just bored, taking a walk down memory lane. She'll get sick of you soon enough."

He leaned down, his blurry silhouette looming over me. "Remember this: you're expired goods. Trash we already threw away once!"

He laugheda cruel, grating soundand delivered another vicious kick to my stomach.

Darkness crept into my peripheral vision. Just as I thought I was going to pass out, the front door flew open.

Vivian stormed in.

"Stop!"

Her scream tore through the apartment. "Derek, do you have a death wish? Get away from him!"

She didn't wait for him to comply. She hurled the ceramic coffee cup in her hand with terrifying force. It struck Derek squarely in the forehead, splitting the skin. Blood trickled down his face.

"Alex!"

Ignoring Derek, she rushed to my side and dropped to her knees. Her hands hovered over me, trembling. "Someone! Get the car! We need a hospital, now!"

The panic in her voice was raw. It didn't sound like acting.

"Why do you care?" Derek whined, clutching his bleeding forehead. "He's not your husband!"

Vivian whipped her head around, her eyes lethal.

"Shut up."

Her voice dropped to a hiss. "It's not your place to speak. If he dies, I will kill you myself."

The room fell into terrified silence. Only the bone-deep chill of her threat remained.

My vision finally failed me. Darkness swallowed me whole.

When I opened my eyes again, antiseptic filled my lungs.

Hospital bed.

Voices drifted in from the corridormuffled, arguing. Vivian and Derek. They were talking about me.

Needles of pain pricked my skull, but I forced myself to sit up. I needed to hear this. Gritting my teeth against the dizziness, I dragged my heavy limbs off the bed and shuffled to the door.

Through the narrow crack, I saw Vivian raise her hand and slap Derek across the face.

Crack.

"I told you to stay away from the apartment," she said, her voice icy. "Why did you come back? Just to cause a scene?"

She looked at him like a criminal under interrogation.

"I..." Derek clenched his fists, face twisted in indignation. "I'm your husband! He's just an ex-boyfriend! Don't my feelings matter at all? I wish Alex Farley was dead!"

Hatred burned in his eyespure, unadulterated jealousy.

Smack!

She slapped him again, harder. Her expression didn't flicker.

"Husband?" she scoffed. "We're married in name only. Everything you haveyour clothes, your car, your statusI gave them to you. You have no right to interfere with my life."

She stepped closer, her posture dominating. "As long as Alex is safe, I don't care about anything else. Understand?"

Her voice was firm, resolute. As if she would burn the world down just to keep me alive.

"Vivian."

Derek narrowed his eyes, a sneer forming. He decided to play his trump card.

"You want to rekindle your romance with Alex, don't you? But have you forgotten?" His voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "Five years ago, you were the one who ordered the hit. You had him beaten, stuffed into a sack, and thrown into the sea."

He leaned in closer. "If he knew the truththat you're the reason he almost diedwould he still look at you the same way?"

A chill ran down my spine, freezing me in place.

What?

If the truth was that brutal... then why did the diary say she loved me? Why was the content completely the opposite of reality?

"Shut your mouth," Vivian threatened, panic flashing in her eyes for the first time. "As long as you keep quiet and I say nothing, Alex will never know."

She glared at him. "He will believe the diary. He has to."

"That perfection? I created it!"

"Those fabricated pages will become his past memories!"

My heart slammed against my ribs.

So the diary is a lie.

"Derek Walker," Vivian hissed, her voice shaking with barely contained rage. "One more word, and I swear I'll destroy you."

"He doesn't need you to tell him."

I pushed the door open, slow and deliberate. "I already know."