My husband lost his memory in a car accident, and his cognitive level degraded to an eighteen-year-old.

He was determined to elope with a woman with dreadlocks.​

*****

Arthur Palmer got a concussion from a car accident. He alleged that his family caused this accident to prevent him from eloping with a woman.

Indeed, he looked totally different from what he used to be. With his eyebrows twisted wickedly, he sneered for no reason and said, "Do you think you can break us apart?"

"Who are you going to be with?" I asked.

"Where's Zoey?" He ignored my question. "You stopped her from getting close to me, didn't you?"

Arthur stared at me like I was his archenemy.

"Who is Zoey?" I could even hear my teeth gritting and asked with grudge, "She's your ex-girlfriend, right? You're so obsessed with her that you even call her name right after you wake up from the blackout?"

As if looking at a mad woman, he glanced at me disdainfully. "It's none of your business."

He picked up the cell phone from the bedside table and dialed a number very smoothly.

I was stunned.

The volume of his phone was not lowered, and I could hear a confused female voice in the speaker. "Arthur?"

Hearing her voice, he seemed to be relaxed for a moment and soon asked worriedly, "You're alright, right?"

I had never seen this woman in Arthur's mobile phone contacts and also found her voice so strange; however, they talked like two old friends. "No. Are you alright?" she asked.

"I just got a minor injury," he said.

She continued, "Can I come and see you?"

Although I had never met her, I knew she was good at manipulating men.

Fearing that me and his mother, Ella Miller, would bully Zoey, Arthur kicked us out of his ward.

Ella sat beside me with an awkward expression on her face. I asked, "Ella, is it possible that he was possessed by a ghost?"

After all, Arthur was the perfect heir to a wealthy family; how could he ever bump into the idea of eloping with another woman?

Ella's lips trembled. "No, there is indeed a woman..."

She suddenly held my hand and said, "But Arthur loves you the most. You have to trust him..."

"Trust him about what?" I asked coldly.

She was shivering even more violently, and my hands were shaking, too. I followed her gaze and looked over.

What caught my eye was a head of dreadlocks.

Colorful hairbands were tied at the ends of her hair. I had never seen so many colors on one thing except for a Christmas tree.

With a healthy dark complexion that matched her big red lips perfectly, she looked quite pretty, like a genetically mutated mermaid.

Then, I heard Ella's trembling voice. "That's Zoey, Zoey Flores. She doesn't change at all."

The shock I had suffered today was too much for me to accept. The only thing my husband could remember after coming out of a coma was his ex-girlfriend, and she was a rock woman with dreadlocks. I didn't know which one was more shocking.

I quickly found the mirror in my bag and checked my face in it, murmuring, "Ella, does Arthur really love me the most?"

Zoey quickly walked up to me. Her blood-red lips opened as if she wanted to eat me in. "Excuse me, is Arthur here?"

I nodded subconsciously.

So, she walked into his ward. I heard his voice filled with smiles. "Zoey."

Only then did I come back to my senses that I had walked to the ward door.

Zoey blinked. "What's the matter?"

I said, "It's not appropriate for you two to be alone together."

Behind me was his sneer, which was completely disparate from the gentle tone he used when calling Zoey. "Why do you say that?"

I told myself in my heart not to bother with someone who had lost his memory but couldn't help suppressing the sorrow.

However, Zoey said gently, "Don't talk to your wife like that. You'll break her heart."

Arthur and I were both stunned for different reasons.

But the slight doubt in my heart quickly dissipated as Zoey continued.

"I didn't expect you would still contact me." She said in a low voice with tears, "If I hadn't been forced to leave this country, you wouldn't have married someone else to soothe the disappointment in your heart. It's all my fault," she said.

Arthur and I spoke at the same time.

He said, "You mean I really married her?"

I said, "What do you mean by marrying me to soothe himself?"

This secret hit my head like thunder, and I had an inkling that I was involved in a mess.

I glanced at Arthur lying on the hospital bed and at the hypocritical woman.

Although I knew her intention behind her words, she did succeed in provoking me. Forcing myself to stay calm, I turned to Ella who had been standing at the door. "Is what she said true?"

She turned her face away and didn't dare to look at me.

So, everything Zoey said was true.

Arthur's voice was full of the arrogance of a teenager. He said to Zoey, "I will not marry anyone else..."

It was a pity that such a touching oath was interrupted by my slap at his face.

However, I forgot that he still had a cerebral concussion when I hit him.

Or maybe I just wanted to vent my anger regardless of all his injuries.

Zoey cried out. "Arthur! Doctor! Doctor!"

Because she made such a fuss, I was reluctant to call for the doctor again and just pressed the medical bell.

A gray-haired doctor rushed to Arthur's ward and said angrily, "Didn't I tell you not to provoke him? No matter how serious the problem is, you have to wait until he recovers. And how can you hit a patient?"

He glanced at me, then at Zoey with a stern question. "Why did you hit him?"

She pointed at me and said, "It's her."

"When her husband was brought here, she was crying so hard that she almost died. You tell me that this slender woman hit her beloved husband?"

"It's me." I interrupted their debate awkwardly.

The doctor frozen for a second and murmured, "I have underestimated your strength. Nevertheless, you can't hit a patient, right?"

Probably since I was resolved to be a lady when I was seventeen years old, people around me had been like this doctor who were not willing to blame me even if I was wrong.

Zoey sat on Arthur's bed and echoed, "That's right."

"Then call the police," I said.

I looked at her dreadlocks shaking in shock and hitting Arthur's face and suddenly remembered that dreadlocks didn't need cleaning so frequently.

Moreover, Arthur had mysophobia.

Suddenly, I was no longer sad about becoming a divorced woman.

During the divorce process between Arthur and I, both parties were very cooperative, and when we went to the law firm to divide the property, he showed amazing generosity.

I accepted all the considerable amount of property, feeling that I deserved it.

However, Ella stomped and shouted, "Arthur, you can't divorce!"

Signing the document swiftly, he asked, "Why can't I?"