He Drugged Me to Forget Him for His Dying First Love

My fiance pressed the vial to my lips and told me it was medicine.

It was the same amnesia serum I once risked everything to keep off the human trials.

He wanted me to forget him for thirty days.

Thirty days, so he could marry the woman dying of cancer without me in the way.

I let the liquid sit cold under my tongue and I spit it into my sleeve when he turned to text her.

Then I smiled like a stranger and asked him who he was.

For a month I watched Julian hold Vivienne's wedding in a field of white flowers.

I watched him whisper promises about their next life while I poured my untouched serum down a drain and kept the bottle.

I memorized every receipt, every nurse, every name on a trial I was paid to bury three years ago.

He thinks the drug ate one month of me.

He has no idea I am the woman who signed the paper that should have ended his career.

On the thirtieth day the field went quiet and he came back expecting his obedient ghost.

I handed him a sealed envelope instead of my hand.

Now he is on his knees in the rain, blood in his tears, asking me the only question he has left.

If the dose only lasted a month, why have I forgotten him for the rest of my life.

***

Julian knelt on the Persian rug, his knee pressing into the plush fabric. He held a small glass vial against my lower lip.

"Open your mouth, Nora," he coaxed. His voice sounded incredibly soft, like he was soothing a frightened child.

I kept my teeth clenched, staring at the small bottle in his hand.

"It will stop the headaches," he whispered. His thumb stroked my cheek, tracing the line of my jaw. "You need this. The doctor said the pain is only going to get worse."

I focused on the red wax seal stamped near the neck of the glass. The emblem of the Aegis Research Institute glared back at me in the dim light of the living room.

It was not pain medicine.

"I don't want it," I said, my voice tight.

"Don't be stubborn," Julian replied, his tone remaining even. "You haven't slept in days. Your mind is playing tricks on you."

"My mind is perfectly fine."

"You are confused, Nora. Drink the medicine."

"It has the Aegis seal on it," I pointed out, pulling my head back slightly.

"They manufacture painkillers too," he said smoothly.

"I know exactly what Aegis manufactures," I shot back. "I signed the waivers, remember? Twelve million dollars to keep your doors open."

Three years ago, I sat in a sterile boardroom and signed my name on a liability waiver. I took the fall for that massive penalty. I could have vetoed the project and walked away clean. Instead, I ruined my own record to save him.

I recognized the experimental prototype he held now.

It was a memory-wiping compound.

"You are hysterical," Julian stated, his patience thinning. "The migraines are making you paranoid."

"Julian, please," I tried to push his hand away.

His grip tightened, locking my head in place. His fingers dug painfully into my jaw. "Drink it."

There was no escape. If I fought him, he would force it down my throat. I had to play his game.

I parted my lips.

He tilted the vial. The freezing liquid flooded my mouth, tasting like copper and ash. I immediately sealed my throat, trapping the chemical pool underneath my tongue. My chest seized on instinct, but I forced my swallowing muscles to remain still.

I closed my eyes, pretending to swallow.

"Good," he murmured, his grip loosening.

A sharp buzz vibrated from his jacket pocket.

Julian withdrew his phone. The screen illuminated his sharp cheekbones. The name Vivienne flashed across the glass in bright white letters.

"Give me a moment," he muttered, standing up.

He turned his back to me to type a reply.

The moment his shoulders shifted away, I ducked my head. I pulled the inner silk lining of my suit jacket up to my mouth and spat the entire mouthful of liquid into the dark fabric.

The wool absorbed the dampness instantly, leaving a cold patch against my wrist.

I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, leaving no trace of the drug.

My fingers slipped down, brushing the seam of the leather sofa. Something hard and metallic snagged my nail.

I dug my hand into the narrow gap and pulled it free.

A brass pocket watch.

The metal felt heavy in my palm. Four years ago, on the night he proposed, I gave this to him. I had engraved our initials into the inner lid. He smiled, kissed my forehead, and tossed it into a drawer the next morning.

It had somehow migrated into the crevices of the couch, discarded.

"She needs a few more minutes," Julian said to the phone, his voice low.

I froze. He was leaving a voice note.

"The dose was strong. It should take effect soon. I will meet you downstairs when it is done."

Julian slipped his phone away and turned back around.

I let my shoulders slump. I relaxed my facial muscles, letting my eyelids droop, draining every ounce of recognition from my gaze. I stared blankly at the wall behind him.

He crouched again, examining my face. "Nora?"

I blinked slowly.

"Can you hear me?" he asked.

I stared through him. I kept my voice flat, devoid of any inflection. "Who are you?"

A flicker of satisfaction crossed his features. It was subtle, just a slight tightening of his mouth, but it was there.

"I am Julian," he said.

"Julian," I repeated, letting the name sound foreign on my tongue. "Where am I? Why am I here?"

He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture felt hollow.

"You work for me," Julian replied.

His tone shifted. The gentle coaxing vanished, replaced by a cold, dismissive edge.

"What do I do?" I asked, keeping my eyes wide and empty.

"You are just an assistant who signs papers," he said smoothly. "You handle the low-level administrative tasks. Nothing more."

The words landed like a physical blow to my chest.

Just an assistant.

Not a fiancé. Not a partner. Not the woman who sacrificed her reputation to save him from ruin. Just a disposable pen.

"Did I do a bad job?" I asked, forcing my voice to tremble slightly.

"You made mistakes," Julian said coldly. "But I am giving you a second chance."

The audacity of his lie burned in my chest.

"I see," I murmured.

"It is better you forget," Julian added.

He stood up to his full height and brushed a speck of lint off his trousers. He had no idea the woman sitting in front of him was entirely lucid. He did not realize his contempt had just poured straight into the ears of a fully awake mind.

"Am I sick?" I asked, pointing to my head.

"You had a breakdown," he lied effortlessly. "The stress of the job was too much for you. But you will be fine now."

I lowered my eyes, staring at the floorboards. I squeezed my right hand shut, burying the brass pocket watch deep in my palm.

The sharp edges of the engraved lid dug into my skin.

"Rest now," Julian instructed. "Tomorrow, I will have someone bring you your new contract."

"Okay," I whispered.

"Don't leave the couch," he commanded. "The medication makes people dizzy."

He turned toward the kitchen, his footsteps echoing against the hardwood. He assumed the chemical would knock me out within minutes.

I remained on the sofa, still. I listened to the sound of water running in the sink, then the clinking of a glass.

On the glass coffee table, the supposedly empty vial lay on its side. The small cap rested inches away.

I reached out.

I grabbed the small glass bottle. I picked up the cap, twisted it firmly onto the neck, and slipped the vial into my pocket.