Three days had passed since I woke up crying in a bed I did not recognize. Three days of searching for a notebook that seemed determined to stay hidden. Three days of learning that being a billionaire was exhausting, mostly because everyone expected me to know things I did not remember.
The notebook remained missing. The ficus remained dramatic. And Lucas remained impossible to read, except for his ears which betrayed him every single time.
Today started like any other day. Coffee from Lucas. A judgmental look at my outfit (pink sweater, because I had promised). A car ride to the office where people still froze when they saw me, though a few more smiled now.
Progress, as Lucas would say.
The morning passed quietly. Maggie brought me papers to sign. I signed them without reading, which felt irresponsible but also freeing. Kevin came by to show me a picture of his cat. Sophie brought me a cupcake she had made herself. It was purple. I ate it anyway.
Then everything went wrong.
---
"You have a visitor," Maggie said, appearing in my doorway. Her face was pale. Her bun looked tighter than usual.
"A visitor? Who?"
She hesitated. "He says his name is Alexander."
The name landed in my chest like a stone. Alexander. The man from the photo. The man on the beach. The man who left me the day before our wedding.
"I do not remember him," I said.
"I know." Maggie's voice was soft. "But he remembers you. And he is in the lobby."
"Does he know I have amnesia?"
"Everyone knows. It was in the news."
I forgot about the news. Of course it was in the news. A billionaire CEO losing her memory was probably very interesting to people who were not living it.
"What does he want?"
Maggie's jaw tightened. "He says he wants to apologize."
---
Lucas appeared beside me before I could respond. He must have heard everything. His face was blank, but his hands were clenched at his sides.
"You do not have to see him," Lucas said.
"I know."
"We can have security remove him."
"That seems dramatic."
"He left you. The day before your wedding. He does not deserve to see you."
I looked at Lucas. His jaw was tight. His eyes were hard. But his ears were not red. For once, they were pale.
"Are you angry?" I asked.
"I am not angry."
"Your hands are clenched."
"I always clench my hands."
"You do not."
He stared at me. Then he unclenched his hands. Then he clenched them again.
"Fine," he said. "I am angry."
"Why?"
He did not answer. But I saw it. The way his eyes flickered. The way his jaw tightened even more.
Lucas was jealous. Or protective. Or both.
"Let him come up," I said.
"Vivian..."
"I want to see him. I want to see the man who broke me so badly that I forgot my own name." I stood up. "And then I want to see his face when he realizes I do not remember him at all."
Lucas stared at me for a long moment. Then he nodded. "I will be in the room."
"I expect you to be."
---
Alexander walked in five minutes later.
He was tall. Dark hair. Sharp jaw. The same man from the photo on the beach. But older now. Lines around his eyes. A tiredness in his face that the photo had not captured.
He stopped when he saw me.
"Vivian," he said. His voice was soft. Careful. Like he was approaching something fragile.
I stayed behind my desk. Lucas stood by the window. Close enough to see everything. Far enough to pretend he was not watching.
"Alexander," I said.
His eyes widened. "You remember me?"
"No. Maggie told me your name five minutes ago."
His face fell. Just a little. Just enough for me to see.
"I heard about your accident," he said. "I came as soon as I could."
"It was not an accident. I cried so hard I passed out and forgot everything." I paused. "Apparently because of you."
He flinched. "Vivian, I..."
"You left me. The day before our wedding. You were seeing my best friend behind my back. And then you disappeared." I recited the facts like I was reading a grocery list. Because that was what they were to me. Facts. Not memories. Not pain. Just words.
"I am sorry," he said. "I have wanted to apologize for two years."
"You waited two years?"
"I was scared."
"Of what?"
"Of you."
I almost laughed. "You were scared of me? You broke my heart. You destroyed our company. You disappeared without a word. And you were scared of me?"
Alexander looked at the floor. "You were terrifying when you were angry."
"I am still terrifying. I just wear pink now."
He looked up. Confusion on his face. Then he noticed my sweater. Pink. Bright. Nothing the old Vivian would ever wear.
"You have changed," he said.
"I do not remember the old me. But everyone says she was cold and scary and yelled at plants." I glanced at the ficus in the corner. It looked back at me. Judging. "I prefer the new me. She eats cake for breakfast and wears whatever she wants."
Alexander took a step closer. Lucas moved too. Just a small shift. But Alexander noticed.
"Who is that?" he asked, nodding toward Lucas.
"My assistant."
"He looks like he wants to kill me."
"He probably does. He is very protective." I smiled. "It is annoying sometimes. But mostly endearing."
---
Alexander stayed for twenty minutes. He apologized at least ten times. He explained himself. He said he had made a mistake. He said he missed me. He said he wanted another chance.
I listened to all of it.
Then I said, "I do not remember you, Alexander. I do not remember loving you. I do not remember the wedding. I do not remember the day you left. To me, you are a stranger in a photo."
He looked like he had been slapped.
"But everyone else remembers," I continued. "Maggie remembers picking me up off the floor. Lucas remembers finding me unconscious. Sophie remembers being scared of me for three years because of what you did."
"I am sorry," he said again.
"You said that already."
"What do you want me to say?"
"I do not want you to say anything. I want you to leave." I stood up. "I have a company to run. A notebook to find. A ficus to keep alive. I do not have time for your guilt."
Alexander stared at me. His eyes were wet.
"You really do not remember me," he whispered.
"I really do not."
He nodded slowly. Then he turned and walked to the door. At the last moment, he looked back.
"You seem happier now," he said.
"I am."
"Good." He paused. "I am glad. Even if it is without me."
Then he left.
---
The door closed. The room was quiet.
Lucas was still by the window. His hands were unclenched now.
"That went well," I said.
"You handled that better than I expected."
"I did not feel anything. Is that bad?"
He walked toward me. Stopped a few feet away. "It is not bad. It is just... you are healing."
"I do not feel like I am healing. I feel like I am pretending."
"Pretend long enough. It becomes real."
I looked at him. "Did you just make that up?"
"No. I read it somewhere."
"On the internet?"
"On a motivational poster in Maggie's office."
I laughed. It came out loud and surprised. "You read motivational posters, Lucas?"
"Maggie puts them up. I have no choice."
"You are full of surprises."
"So are you." His eyes moved to my sweater. "Pink looks good on you."
"Did you just compliment me?"
"Do not get used to it."
He walked out before I could respond. But his ears were red. Bright red. The reddest I had ever seen.
I smiled at the empty room.
"You like me," I whispered to no one. "You definitely like me."
The ficus did not respond. But I swear it looked less judgmental than usual.
---
That night, I lay in bed thinking about Alexander.
I did not remember him. But my chest ached anyway. Not for him. For the woman I used to be. The one who loved him. The one he broke.
"I am sorry," I whispered to her. Wherever she was.
I fell asleep holding the photo of my father.
And for the first time, I did not dream of crying.