My husband pretended to lose his memory in a car accident just to fulfill his young girlfriend's wish to become vice president—and to strip me of my position.

As I passed by, I accidentally overheard her whisper to him, "Since you agreed to let me borrow the title for seven days, can I borrow you for seven days too?"

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her lips. "Of course. Use me however you like."

I stopped in my tracks but did not expose his lie.

The next day, at the conference table, he slammed his hand down and declared that his girlfriend was his real wife. He ordered me to get out of the company and hand over all my projects.

Every employee turned to look at me, waiting for me to put a stop to his outrageous performance.

But I didn't resist. I simply signed the resignation agreement.

What he didn't know was that the project's submission deadline was only seven days away—and the client would recognize no one but me as the core person in charge.

"You can leave, but you must delete all your clients' and coworkers' contact information. Those are company resources. You're not qualified to take them with you!"

Just as I was about to walk out, my husband's young girlfriend, Lisa Marcell, blocked my path.

After managing the company for years, I knew perfectly well there had never been such a rule. She was deliberately targeting me.

I turned to my husband, Anthony Pickett. "Is this what you want too?"

Anthony stared at me in a daze for a moment, then nodded coldly.

If I really deleted those contacts, there would be no turning back.

He was certain I wouldn't bear to leave, which was why he dared to be so ruthless.

It wasn't strange for him to think that way. We had been married for seven years and never had children.

The company was like our child, and I loved it even more than he did. I woke before dawn and worked late into the night, chasing deals and handling business with meticulous care, afraid to waste even a minute.

Last week, at a meeting, he proposed promoting Lisa directly to head of the technical department.

The old-timers in the company did him a favor. Against their better judgment, they offered a few hollow compliments and approved it.

Only I, after reviewing Lisa's performance and finding her completely unqualified, vetoed his proposal outright—without giving Anthony any face.

He knew very well that I would never allow him to act recklessly in the company.

So this time, to grant Lisa her wish, he even staged a ridiculous amnesia act—just to force me to submit.

When our argument broke out, colleagues rushed over to mediate.

"Ms. Campbell, calm down. Mr. Pickett is sick. As his wife, when he's this fragile, you should be more understanding and tolerant."

Their words emboldened Anthony. He said solemnly, "My wife is everything. In this company, whoever goes against my wife goes against me!"

The coworkers laughed and teased me, tugging at my arm. "Ms. Campbell, see? Your husband still loves you. He's just ill and mistook someone else for you."

They looked at me with envy, but I couldn't smile at all.

The truth was the complete opposite of what they saw and said.

Anthony and I were husband and wife, polite and respectful on the surface. But whenever something happened, he always forced me to compromise and give in. Right or wrong, in any situation, he always stood on the opposite side of me.

We had argued over this more times than I could count.

Yet he always said, I was his family. No matter how badly things went outside, we could still make up at home.

Outsiders were different. Once they were truly offended, there was no room for reconciliation.

It made me uncomfortable, but after hearing it so often, I began to think he had a point.

But now, seeing with my own eyes that he could abandon his principles and bottom line for Lisa…

I finally understood something. When you truly love someone, your first instinct when they are wronged is to protect them—not to coldly calculate gains and losses.

I was lost in thought when the chair in front of me was suddenly kicked over by Lisa.

"Heather, you shameless old woman! Anthony's wife is obviously me! If you dare spout nonsense again, I'll rip your mouth apart!"

She pointed at me and screamed, as if I were the one destroying someone else's family.

Anthony watched the whole scene without saying a word. He simply stood behind Lisa, silently backing her up.

I smiled. "Fine. I'll delete them."

As soon as I spoke, I took out my phone and posted on my social feed that I had resigned. Then I raised my hand to log out of my work account.

Seeing that I was serious, Anthony suddenly panicked and rushed to stop me.

"Forget it. Seeing how you're an old employee, you don't need to delete anything. Just leave!"

All the coworkers let out a sigh of relief.

But Lisa stomped her foot in dissatisfaction. "Honey, am I not the vice president? Don't I even have this much authority?"

Anthony, who had always indulged her, shot her a warning look this time, signaling her not to make trouble.

Then he softened his expression and transferred five thousand dollars to me, promising, "Don't worry. The company won't let its contributors feel wronged. Even though you're leaving, what belongs to you will be returned eventually... with time.

"As for your severance compensation, I'll give you an answer in seven days. Go home and rest first."

He thought I still didn't know his amnesia was an act. He assumed that after seven days, he could use his 'illness' as an excuse, apologize to me, and everything would return to normal.

But this hands-off boss had no idea that the company's most critical project had only seven days left before its deadline.

The amount involved was enormous. If it wasn't delivered on time—or if something went wrong—he would have to pay a massive penalty.

In the past, for the sake of the company's stability and his future, I would have chosen to endure it all in silence. But I was already exhausted. I wanted neither the company nor him anymore.

Anthony subconsciously reached out to grab my hand, then remembered he was supposed to be "acting" and awkwardly withdrew it.

I glanced at my phone and returned the transfer.

Then I deleted the word "Husband" from his contact name.

After that, I looked at him calmly and said, "Anthony, let's get a divorce."

Anthony froze, then blurted out, "You want a divorce? Why?"

The moment the words left his mouth, he realized he had misspoken and hurried to correct himself.

"Divorce? Don't be ridiculous. My wife is Lisa. How could I ever have married you?"

Watching his clumsy performance, I couldn't be bothered to expose his lie or waste breath arguing with him. Instead, I played along with his act.

"I tricked you into getting the license. Let's go get divorced now."

Lisa immediately beamed with delight and urged, "It should've happened long ago. Let's go."

Anthony hesitated, frowning. He ignored the holes in my words and tried to gloss it over. "This is strange. I'll decide later."

I was puzzled.

Didn't he like Lisa? I was offering him a divorce and stepping aside for them—why wasn't he happy?

In the past, I would have pressed him for an answer, even asked in a ridiculous way whether he had ever loved me. Now, I didn't care to guess what was in his heart. I only wanted the divorce as soon as possible.

I raised my brows and provoked him.

"So you won't divorce me… because you still can't let go of me?"

Lisa immediately grabbed his sleeve with a wronged expression.

"Honey, aren't I your most beloved wife? How can you marry someone else?"

Under pressure from both of us, Anthony could only grit his teeth and agree.

When the three of us arrived at the courthouse, just as we reached the entrance, Anthony suddenly shook his head as if something familiar had triggered his memory. He took my hand on his own initiative.

"This place looks so familiar… I remember now. On New Year's Eve, I came here with you and stood in a long line to get our marriage certificate."

He knew that day had been the happiest of my life.

So he thought that as long as he brought up our "happy memories," I wouldn't bear to divorce him.

After all, this trick had always worked whenever he made me angry.

But that very day, I hadn't only overheard him pretending to have amnesia—I had also heard what he said about our marriage.

"What's so romantic about it? I chose the last day of the year because I had promised to marry her. But spending my whole life with someone I don't love—I couldn't accept that. So I kept delaying until the very last day before making up my mind.

"Anyway, marrying anyone is just getting by. She has good conditions and is capable—she can help me. She's not bad either. A very suitable marriage partner…"

I stood outside the door, listening to his praise of me, and yet my heart sank to the bottom.

I thought we were together because of love. To him, it was nothing but calculation and use.

No wonder, once the company began to thrive, he guarded money and power so tightly and never let me touch them. He had been wary of me all along.

I was distracted when Anthony tugged at my hand and asked if I remembered.

Living in a marriage built on suspicion had exhausted me. Cutting my losses in time was the best choice for me.

I shook my head and said casually, "No. You probably damaged your brain in the accident and imagined all that."

The smile on Anthony's face froze.

Seeing that I remained unmoved despite his attempts to please me—and thinking that he was supposed to be a "patient" and I still wouldn't accommodate him—his anger flared.

He grabbed Lisa's hand and interlaced their fingers.

"Right, all of that is fake. My wife is Lisa. Once we finalize the divorce, I'll marry Lisa!"

After saying that, he shot me a cold glare and walked inside with Lisa, looking blissful, as if he had come to get married rather than divorced.

I didn't bother indulging his theatrics and followed them in.

As soon as we completed the registration, we were taken into the mediation room.

Anthony pulled Lisa into his arms, took out the grapes he had bought on the way, peeled them one by one, and fed them to her personally.

He thought this would make me jealous.

But on the contrary, it only reminded me of the Anthony from my memories—cold and reserved.

Back then, he wouldn't even hold my hand in public, saying it was improper to be touchy in front of others.

Now, he seemed like a completely different person—so brazen that it made people uncomfortable to watch.

Even the staff in the mediation room couldn't stand it anymore.

With my firm attitude, we soon entered the divorce procedure.

My expression remained cold throughout, which made Anthony extremely displeased. In a fit of spite, he went silent with me and rushed through the process.

When we came out with the divorce certificate, I let out a long breath. The gloom hanging over my head finally lifted a little.

I hailed a taxi and prepared to go home.

Lisa leaned over and saw the address I had entered. Her face immediately darkened.

"Home? You're divorced now. That place stopped being your home long ago. Pack your things and get out!"

Anthony stood to the side and smiled.

"Exactly. Kick the outsider out. My wife will move in."

He was driving me out to make room for Lisa.

No normal person could accept that. The old me certainly couldn't. But now, I only nodded indifferently.

"Fine. I'll move out."

I booked a hotel from the car. After returning home, I began packing my things seriously.

By now, everything had slipped out of Anthony's control.

For once, he softened his attitude. Pretending to have recovered some memory, he held up our wedding photo and asked, "Heather, when did we take this picture?"

I didn't even lift my head as I stuffed clothes into my suitcase. "It's fake. I photoshopped it."

That sentence completely enraged Anthony.

He snatched my suitcase and threw my clothes out the door one by one.

"Get out! Leave right now!"

With a loud bang, he slammed the door shut.

I shook my head in silence, bent down to pick up the clothes on the floor, brushed off the dust, and stuffed them back into my bag.

Inside the room, Lisa asked anxiously, "Anthony, this is all my fault. I shouldn't have insisted on becoming vice president. Seeing you two divorce, I really can't bear it. Maybe I should go explain things to Heather…"

Anthony suppressed his emotions and comforted her.

"This has nothing to do with you. Heather is just too narrow-minded, arguing even with a sick person. Let's ignore her. I'll stay with you for these seven days, and we'll talk about the rest later.

"Heather is easy to coax. All I need to do is crook my finger, and she'll come back."

I carried my bags into the elevator.

He was wrong.

This time, it was truly over. There would be no going back.

The days after separating from Anthony were surprisingly pleasant, except for the nonstop messages from my former coworkers.

Today, they must have panicked, because one of them called me directly.

"Ms. Campbell, please come back quickly. The project has reached its final deadline."

I was about to refuse when I heard a scuffle over the phone. A moment later, Lisa's angry voice came through.

"Heather, you've already been fired. Stop meddling in company affairs."

My colleague snapped back in fury, "Lisa, what are you doing? Do you even know that if this project fails, the company will have to pay a huge penalty?"

Lisa replied dismissively, "What's there to panic about? I've almost finished the design. It'll be ready in a few days."

My colleague's shocked voice rang out again, "Don't be ridiculous! We don't trust your work at all. Besides, the client specifically requested Ms. Campbell to handle the design. What you're doing is deceiving them! Where is Mr. Pickett? I want to talk to him!"

Lisa threatened coldly, "Anthony is still sick. If any of you dare to gossip or stir trouble, don't blame me for firing all of you."

Before I could hear anything else, the call was cut off.

I could already guess how things would end. With me as their cautionary example, they wouldn't dare act rashly. All they could do was endure it.

I shook my head and stopped thinking about it. I truly let go of the company.

I had been busy for the company for so long that now, for the first time, I finally had time to meet up with friends.

Every day was filled with drinking and laughter, and I forgot all my worries.

On the seventh day, dressed in a gown and holding a bridal bouquet, I went to attend a friend's wedding. As I walked in, I sent her a message: [The bouquet was left in the car. I found it. I'm bringing it to you now.]

No sooner had I sent it than I heard a familiar voice.

"Thank you all for coming to my wedding with Lisa…"

I turned around and saw Anthony in a groom's suit, arm in arm with Lisa, greeting the guests.

Their wedding photos were displayed outside the private hall.

Lisa noticed me first. She shot me a provocative look and deliberately kissed Anthony on the lips.

The excited screams from the guests made Anthony even happier. He pulled her into his arms.

At that moment, he suddenly looked up and met my eyes. He froze.

After coming back to his senses, he quickly straightened and deliberately put some distance between himself and Lisa.

Seeing this, Lisa pressed her lips together, clearly displeased that he was leaning toward me.

She thought I had come to crash the wedding. With so many onlookers around, she burst into tears and rushed over to grab my hand.

"Heather, I truly love Anthony. Don't snatch him away, okay?"

Anthony raised his brows and was about to step in to defend her when he suddenly noticed the bridal bouquet in my hand.

He instinctively thought I was there to get married. His eyes reddened at once.

"Heather, how could you secretly marry someone else behind my back?"

I knew he had misunderstood, but I didn't feel like explaining. I said coldly, "We're already divorced. Please show some self-respect."

Anthony stared at me in a daze. He no longer had the heart to keep acting. He exaggerated a scene of "recovering his memory," then grabbed my hand.

"Heather, why are you wearing a wedding dress? Are you going to marry me again?"

As he spoke, he reached for the bouquet in my hand.

I avoided his grasp and said indifferently, "Stop pretending. I heard everything about how you and Lisa plotted the fake amnesia."

Meeting the chill in my eyes, Anthony knew he couldn't hide it anymore. He dropped the act, his face darkening.

"I did it because you're biased against Lisa and always suppress her. I had no choice but to use this method! You don't know—while you were gone, Lisa managed the company very well."

I sneered. "Managed it well? Or hid things well? Do you know that the deadline for the Gollux Corp project is today?"

Anthony went blank and immediately turned to look at Lisa.

Lisa smiled and explained, "Relax, I've already arranged everything. Such a small matter isn't worth bothering brother about."

Then she looked at me provocatively.

"Ms. Campbell, you don't know this, do you? I submitted the design a long time ago. The client has already started mass production. Sorry for disappointing you—I'm just that capable."

Hearing this, Anthony nodded in satisfaction and was about to speak when his phone rang.

He smiled and shook the phone at me.

"Even the client is calling to praise Lisa. You really should reflect on yourself and apologize to her properly."

Pleased with himself, he pressed the answer button and turned on speakerphone.

But the next second, the client's voice came through—