In three years of marriage, I’d been driven to the brink 108 times.
When I woke up again, I found myself lying in a hospital bed, my mind a complete blank.
A middle-aged couple sat beside my bed. The moment I opened my eyes, the woman frowned. How much longer are you going to keep this up?
Damon always loved Celeste. If he hadn’t gotten drunk and stumbled into the wrong room that night, why would he ever have married you? Her voice was laced with impatience. “He doesn’t love you, so it’s normal for him not to come home. But you? Threatening him with suicide, over and over. After all these years, can you name one time he actually came to see you after one of your ‘attempts’?”
“If you weren’t our own flesh and blood, we wouldn’t even bother.” Mr. Vance sighed too. “You’re absolutely nothing compared to Celeste.”
I stared at them, bewildered.
I’d lost all my memories, I didn’t even know who I was. All I could do was piece together a fractured life from the accusations of this couple who claimed to be my parents.
I was supposed to be the Vance family’s heiress, but I was lost, kidnapped as a child. When I was finally found and brought home, I discovered they’d adopted a girl named Celeste Vance. The parents who should have doted on me now only had eyes for their adopted daughter. My place, the one that should have been mine, was completely taken over.
Later, I fell in love with Damon Thorne, CEO of Thorne Corp, but his heart, too, belonged to Celeste Vance.
Then came that banquet. Damon, drunk, stumbled into the wrong room. He slept with me.
One reckless night later, he was forced to marry me, but all he gave me in return was his coldness and contempt.
My parents didn’t love me, and neither did my husband. I was in agony, wishing I could just disappear. Powerless to change anything, I made desperate pleas for their notice, hoping to draw their eyes to me, just once.
“Alright, we need to get back and make dinner for Celeste.” Mr. and Mrs. Vance stood up. “You stay here and think about what you’ve done.”
The moment the hospital room door closed, a sharp pain shot through my chest.
I had no memory, yet the despair of being abandoned by the whole world felt so real.
I didn’t understand. How could parents not love their biological daughter, but adore their adopted one?
And that man, Damon Thorne…
He was the one who got the wrong room, he was the one who mistook me for someone else.
Since he married me, why couldn’t he treat me right? Why did his coldness push me to the edge?
I didn’t dare to think deeper. Just listening to these unfamiliar past events, my heart felt like it was being slowly shredded by a blunt knife.
What about the old me? Facing such a situation, day after day, with parents who didn’t care and a husband who ignored me—how utterly desperate must she have been?
I slowly pushed myself up and handled my discharge papers alone.
But standing at the hospital entrance, I didn’t know where to go.
I didn’t remember where my parents lived, nor where Damon Thorne’s house was.
Even more tragically, neither home welcomed me.
A sudden commotion broke out at the hospital entrance.
I looked up and saw a tall, slender man striding towards me, holding a delicate figure in his arms.
The man wore a sharply tailored black suit, his shoulders broad and straight. He was incredibly handsome, every step exuding an undeniable presence.
The girl in his arms was carefully protected, her pale face pressed against his chest. He looked down at her with a tenderness that was blinding, his arm tightened possessively, and his steps instinctively softened, as if afraid to jostle her.
“Get out of the way!”
His voice wasn’t loud, yet the onlookers automatically parted, forming a path.
“Oh my god, is that Damon Thorne?” someone whispered behind me.
“Who else could it be? Who else in this city has that kind of presence? He’s so hot, my knees practically buckled…”
I froze in place.
So, this was my husband, Damon Thorne.
And the girl in his arms must be Celeste Vance, my adoptive sister.
As he passed me, his steps faltered almost imperceptibly. His eyes, dark as midnight, swept over me, cold as an ice blade dragging across my skin.
But in an instant, he averted his gaze and hurried towards the emergency room, clutching the girl in his arms.
My frail body trembled slightly.
I didn’t follow them, still pondering where I should go—
The next second, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to find it was Damon Thorne, coming back.
He grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight I winced. “Are you RH-negative?”
Without waiting for an answer, he dragged me towards the blood donation room.
“Celeste was in a bad accident, a massive hemorrhage. The blood bank is low. You need to donate blood for her.”
“I…”
Just as I was about to speak, Damon suddenly cupped the back of my head.
He leaned down and kissed me.
The kiss was cold and fleeting, breaking apart as soon as it touched.
“Now, can you donate?” His voice was low, devoid of any warmth.
Before I could even react, I was shoved into the blood donation room.
Outside the door, the nurses’ whispers were painfully clear:
“That’s Mrs. Thorne, the one who’s attempted suicide 108 times? I heard the first time was to get Mr. Thorne to kiss her, the second for a date, the third for him to sleep with her… Each time, he rejected her. How pathetic is that?”
“And now Mr. Thorne finally kisses her, but it’s only so she’ll donate blood for Miss Vance…”
“She’s probably happy and heartbroken at the same time, right? Happy she finally got a kiss from Mr. Thorne, but heartbroken it was for someone else…”
I lay on the donation chair, and through the glass window, I saw Damon Thorne standing vigil by Celeste Vance’s hospital bed, his long fingers gently enclosing her pale hand. He leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her knuckles.
Strangely, I felt neither joy nor sorrow.
The needle piercing my vein felt like a distant ache, as if all those gut-wrenching emotions were dulled by my amnesia. Forgetting everything… it was a blessing, a mercy from above.
After donating 400cc of blood, I walked out, my face pale, my vision swimming.
I struggled for a long time, but finally decided to approach Damon Thorne. “Damon, can you tell me… our home address? In exchange, I can give you a gift.”
Damon frowned. “What game are you playing now? Too many suicide attempts, you’ve forgotten where you live?”
“No, I have amnesia…”
“Frank is at the entrance.” Damon cut me off. “He’ll drive you back.”
“Thank you,” I said softly. “I’ll prepare the gift.”
“No need.” Damon’s tone was icy. “I’m not interested in any gifts from you, and you don’t need to try and win my favor.”
I lowered my gaze, a faint curve on my lips.
Really?
But this time, the gift… you’ll like it.
Once in the car, I found my lawyer’s number in my contacts and sent a message:
[Hello, I want a divorce and to sever parental ties. Please prepare a divorce agreement and a document to sever parental relations for me.]
Mr. Davies’s reply came quickly: [Alright, Ms. Hayes. I’ll get that drafted ASAP.]
I put away my phone, gazing at the fleeting scenery outside the window.
My amnesia was a chance given to me by fate, an opportunity to escape completely and start a new life.
“Let’s not go home yet,” I told Frank abruptly. “Take me to the immigration office.”
Frank clearly froze, glancing at me in the rearview mirror, but he politely replied, “Of course, Mrs. Thorne.”
The immigration process went smoothly.
The officer told me all my documents would be ready in half a month.
As I got back into the car, I hesitated for a moment, then spoke. “Don’t tell Mr. Thorne about today.”
Frank’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Mrs. Thorne, Mr. Thorne has always… forbidden us from mentioning you in his presence.”
I gave a small, wry smile.
So Damon Thorne hated me so much he didn’t even want to hear my name.
Back at the villa, I stood in the foyer, looking around. This house was both familiar and strange.
Familiar because every detail matched my aesthetic. Strange because it was so cold and empty, as if no one lived here.
I gently traced the embroidery on a throw pillow, imagining how eagerly I must have decorated this house, dreaming of a happy life with Damon.
In our wedding photo on the wall, my eyes were full of love for him. His handsome face, however, held only cold indifference.
I shook my head and turned to go upstairs.
Entering the bedroom, I instinctively pulled open a drawer, and a leather-bound diary slipped out onto the floor.
Flipping to the first page, the messy handwriting looked as if it had been written while drunk:
[Today is my first day married to Damon. He went to his study without saying a word. It’s okay, I’ll wait.]
Flipping through the pages, each entry felt like a knife twisting in my heart:
[Entry #37: I tried to end it again. He still didn’t come. His assistant, Leo, said Celeste had a fever, and he stayed by her bedside all night. I lay in the ER, counting the drips of my IV until morning light.]
[Entry #89: I took an overdose of sleeping pills. When I woke, I heard him on the phone in the hallway, saying, ‘Let her die.’ It was then I understood: a pain deeper than death itself is hearing the person you love most wish you dead.]
[Entry #108: I’ve decided to give up. If this doesn’t work, I’ll disappear completely. After all, no one in this world cares if I exist.]
I slammed the diary shut. My chest felt ripped open, and the scars on my wrists suddenly burned, each one a silent accusation of past despair.
I slowly sank to the floor, hugging my knees.
So for three years, I had lived so humbly, like a pathetic, tail-wagging dog, desperate for even a glance from him.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, wiping away my tears and putting the diary back in the drawer. “Stella Hayes, if no one loves you, that’s fine.”
The moonlight streamed through the window, casting a small patch of light at my feet.
“As long as you love yourself, you haven’t lost.”
I lived in this empty villa for a few days, and Damon Thorne never returned.
With no memories and no love, I didn’t find the solitude hard to bear at all. In fact, waiting quietly for my immigration documents to process felt quite peaceful.
Until Mrs. Vance’s call shattered that peace.
“Tomorrow is Celeste’s birthday. Seven PM, The Grand Imperial Hotel.” Mrs. Vance’s voice was cold and detached. “Don’t be late.”
“I don’t…”
“That’s all.”
The call was curtly cut off, not even giving me a chance to refuse.
On the day of the banquet, I chose the simplest black dress I owned.
As soon as I entered, I saw Celeste Vance, surrounded by adoring guests, and Damon Thorne, whom I hadn’t seen in days.
“Celeste Vance has all the luck,” two women whispered nearby. “Her adoptive parents treat her like gold, and even Mr. Thorne is so devoted to her.”
“Exactly. I heard Mr. Thorne personally organized this whole party. Look at that champagne – specially flown in from France, each bottle worth a fortune. And those flowers? Freshly air-freighted from Holland this morning. The whole ballroom is decorated like Monet’s Garden, exactly how Celeste likes it, costing millions.”
The guests’ chatter kept reaching my ears.
I sipped my drink, my gaze falling on Damon Thorne not far away.
He was wearing a black suit today, his shirt collar casually unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of his collarbone, giving him an air of lazy aristocracy.
Yet, this very man was now half-kneeling, adjusting Celeste’s skirt. His usually cold face even held a faint smile.
“And now, please welcome Mr. and Mrs. Vance to offer their blessings to their beloved daughter!”
The moment the host’s words fell, my parents walked onto the stage, arm-in-arm with Celeste.
Mr. Vance cleared his throat, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. “Today, I have an important announcement. Sixty percent of Vance Industries’ shares will be inherited entirely by Celeste.”
A gasp rippled through the room. My grip on my glass tightened.
Then Damon Thorne stepped onto the stage, pulling a velvet box from his pocket.
He opened it, revealing an antique emerald ring.
“Isn’t that the Thorne family heirloom?” someone gasped in the crowd. “I heard that emerald ring was meant for the eldest grandson’s wife!”
“Oh my god, giving a family heirloom to his wife’s adopted sister. Mr. Thorne is publicly humiliating Stella Hayes…”
The ring slowly slipped onto Celeste’s ring finger, a perfect fit.
“Dad, Mom, Damon, isn’t this… inappropriate?” Celeste suddenly looked towards my corner, her voice laced with deliberate hesitation. “After all, Stella is your biological daughter, and Mr. Thorne’s wife. These things should belong to her, shouldn’t they?”
At her words, Mr. and Mrs. Vance immediately clasped her hand. “Don’t be silly, Celeste. Stella married well; she has the Thorne family backing her. We naturally need to plan more for you. Giving you our assets is only right.”
Damon’s voice was flat. “If not for that accident, this ring would have always been yours.”
I stood in the center of the crowd, feeling as if I’d been stripped naked in public.
My parents’ words were like slaps, Damon Thorne’s words like knives, tearing at my face.
The guests’ stares felt like spotlights, pinning me down. Pity, mockery, schadenfreude – every single look screamed ‘pathetic loser.’
I could even feel Celeste’s triumphant gaze, like a victor flaunting her spoils.
In the past, I would probably have been heartbroken enough to wish for death.
But now, I only felt calm.
I gently put down my glass. As I turned to leave, I heard someone whisper:
“Look, her eyes are red…”
“She’s probably going to cry in the restroom…”
“So pathetic, her own parents and husband all favor her adopted sister…”
I didn’t stop, walking straight to the restroom.
The woman in the mirror had perfectly applied makeup, not a single tear shed.
Because I’d forgotten everything. I’d forgotten how desperately I once begged for my parents’ affection, for Damon’s love. I no longer remembered how many times I’d abandoned my dignity, all for a single glance from them.
These people I once humbly adored were now no different to me than strangers.
Now, all I needed was to quietly wait for my immigration documents to be processed, and then learn to truly love myself.
I reapplied my lipstick, and just as I was about to leave the restroom, I froze at the hallway corner.
Not far away, Damon Thorne had Celeste pressed against the wall, kissing her deeply.
His long fingers tangled in her hair, the other hand tightly gripping her waist as if he wanted to mold her into his very bones. Celeste’s head was thrown back, her pale neck forming a graceful arch.
After what felt like an eternity, Damon finally released her, his thumb gently caressing her slightly swollen lips. His voice was low. “Satisfied?”
Celeste leaned into his arms, her voice soft and sweet. “Damon, don’t you think I’m being awful? I’ve already accepted your family heirloom, and now I’m asking for a kiss… If Stella saw this, she’d probably be upset again.”
“I’m just in so much pain. If that accident hadn’t happened back then, we should have been together…”
Damon’s eyes were calm as he held her even tighter. “Her unhappiness has nothing to do with me.”
“I never liked her, and I never will.”
“It’s always been you, Celeste.”
With that, he leaned down and kissed her again.
I stood frozen, my heart gripped by an invisible hand, the pain so sharp I could barely breathe.
I pressed my hand to my chest, thinking: *This must be the last lingering warmth of my past love for him. Once it fades, there will be nothing left.*
Damon Thorne and Celeste Vance kissed for a full three minutes before finally turning and leaving.
Only after their figures had completely disappeared did I step out from the shadows.
I took a deep breath, adjusted my dress, and prepared to return to the ballroom to get my bag and leave.
But just as I walked into the main hall, Celeste rushed over and grabbed my wrist. “Stella, if you liked the ring Damon gave me, I would have given it to you. Why did you steal it?”
I froze. “Steal what? What are you talking about?”
“Don’t pretend!” Celeste’s eyes were red-rimmed. “I just went to the restroom, and the ring was gone! The server said you were the only one who went near my bag!”
Mr. and Mrs. Vance rushed over. Without a word, Mrs. Vance slapped me across the face. “Stella Hayes, can’t you go one day without causing trouble?!”
My cheek burned, and before I could react, Mrs. Vance shrieked, “Someone, search her!”
Several servers immediately surrounded me, roughly pulling at my dress.
I struggled frantically. “I didn’t steal anything! Let me go!”
*Rip—*
The sound of fabric tearing echoed. My shoulder was exposed to the air, and gasps and snickers immediately broke out around me.
“Found it!” A server pulled the emerald ring from my clutch bag. “It was with her after all!”
Celeste took the ring, tears streaming down her face. “Stella, what do you have to say for yourself now?”
I trembled all over. Just as I was about to speak, the crowd suddenly parted—
A steady set of footsteps approached. I looked up to see Damon Thorne walking towards me, his polished dress shoes echoing on the marble floor, each step feeling like it landed on my heart.
“Why would you steal it?” His voice was soft, yet the entire ballroom fell silent. “I never considered you my wife, didn’t you know that?”
I looked up, meeting his icy gaze.
“Stella Hayes, some things aren’t meant for you,” his thin lips parted, each word a poisoned blade. “They never will be.”
I suddenly laughed.
The sound made Damon’s brow furrow almost imperceptibly. He’d seen me cry, seen me rage, seen me hysterical. But he’d never seen me laugh like this – a laugh of liberation, tinged with mockery.
“I didn’t steal it.”
My voice was soft, yet every word was clear.
“And furthermore—”
I took a deep breath, each wor
↓ ↓ Download the Novel Master app, Search 【 285466 】reads the whole book. ↓ ↓
NovelShort
