In the third year of our marriage, Landon Siebert suddenly regained his memory.

He remembered the woman he once loved but could never have—Victoria Gunther.

Victoria wept as she begged me to give him back to her.

Landon, unable to bear her tears, stood up for her. "Coraline Palmore, if we're talking about who came first, you're the one who took her place."

I let out a sigh. A man hung up on another woman is just like chocolate smeared with dirt—you can only throw it away.

***

Landon got into a car accident.

Over the phone, his assistant spoke in a panicked rush, urging me to get to the hospital immediately, sounding like it was a real emergency.

My mind raced with all sorts of terrible scenarios as I hurried there, my hands and feet growing cold with anxiety.

When I pushed open the door to the hospital room, my hand was still trembling uncontrollably.

Thank God.

None of the horrors I'd imagined came true.

Landon sat upright on the bed, looking a little worse for wear but otherwise unharmed.

The weight in my chest finally eased.

Only then did I realize, the room was far too crowded.

Nearly all of Landon's childhood friends had gathered around his bed.

When they saw me, a strange expression flickered across their faces, as if my arrival was somehow out of place.

Landon glanced up at me, his brows furrowing slightly. "Who told you to come?"

In all our years together—one year dating, three years married—I had never heard him speak to me with such coldness. I froze where I stood.

"She was worried about you. Why are you being so harsh?"

A gentle, soothing voice interrupted.

A woman I'd never seen before stood up from beside Landon's bed.

She was tall, with pale skin.

She looked like a handful of fresh snow—radiant, delicate, and heartbreakingly beautiful.

"You must be Landy's wife, right?"

She gazed at me from across the room, her eyes rimmed red. "Please, I'm begging you—could you give him back to me?"

A faint buzzing filled my ears.

Strangely, my first instinct wasn't to ask who she was, but to look at Landon.

He didn't look at me.

Instead, his eyes were fixed on her, a mix of pain and joy shining in them—as if he were staring at a treasure he'd lost and finally found again.

"Why are you begging her?"

Someone shouted, "If you hadn't let go back then, nobody else would be standing next to Landy! Vicky, don't worry, you're the only woman I'll ever recognize for Landy!"

It felt like I'd been slapped across the face, my cheeks burning.

I stared at Landon, desperate for some kind of explanation.

Our eyes met, and for a moment he looked stunned, then quickly turned away in confusion.

"I guess I should introduce myself," the woman said softly. Her gentle voice revealed that she was Victoria Gunther or Vicky, Landon's ex-girlfriend.

They met in high school and started dating in college, but broke up after graduation because Landon's parents didn't approve.

When she reached the emotional part of her story, Victoria threw herself into Landon's arms, choking back tears. "If I'd known you'd end up like this, I never would've left, no matter what."

I have no idea how I managed to walk out of that hospital room.

When I finally came to, a steaming latte was sitting in front of me.

Landon's childhood friend, Robert Cronin, was looking at me with pity in his eyes.

"So, what are you going to do?"

After Victoria suggested breaking up, Landon got into a car accident while driving over to try to patch things up.

He spent a month in the ICU, and when he woke up, he'd lost his memory.

To be precise, he'd forgotten Victoria.

The coffee I drank seemed to turn into a heavy stone, dragging my stomach down, sinking deeper and deeper, until my insides felt twisted and tight.

I remembered the first time I met Landon.

It was at an art exhibit, both of us pausing in front of a print of moonlight shining over snowy mountains.

He turned his head and looked at me, and the first thing he said was, "You look familiar. Haven't we met somewhere before?"

Later, I teased him for using such a cliché pickup line.

Landon just laughed. "It wasn't a pickup line. I meant it."

Back then, I didn't think much of it.

"Coraline, are you alright?" Robert asked, his brows furrowed in concern.

I wanted to say I was fine, but the words wouldn't come—I couldn't even name the feeling.

Suddenly, I asked, "Does Victoria like sweets?"

It was some time after we started dating.

I was stressed, rushing to finish a script before the deadline, completely frazzled.

Landon sat quietly beside me, working on his own tasks.

Watching me fidget and squirm, he chuckled softly. "You're so anxious. I know a great way to help you unwind."

Before I could react, his soft lips brushed against mine.

In the midst of our kiss, he gently nudged a hard candy into my mouth with his tongue.

"So you've been planning this all along!"

My cheeks burned red, breathless as I covered my mouth and accused him.

Landon laughed, voice low. "Sea salt lemon flavor. Do you like it?"

Truth was, he didn't even have much of a sweet tooth.

But he always carried a few candies with him.

I used to naively think it was because of me—a little romantic quirk between us.

Robert took a sip of coffee, reading me like a book.

"She doesn't really like sweets, but she has low blood sugar. Landy got in the habit of keeping some candy on him for emergencies."

My tongue went numb and bitter.

I couldn't say a word.

All those sweet memories I thought belonged to me and Landon—they were just echoes of his past with Victoria.

The thought slithered into my bones like a venomous snake, gnawing away at any peace I had left.

Robert didn't give me a moment to catch my breath.

"To be honest, you and Victoria share a few subtle similarities. Maybe that's why Landy was drawn to you in the first place.

"Now that he's got his memory back and he's secured his place at the Siebert Group, who do you think matters more to him—you or Vicky?"

The answer wasn't hard to guess.

I watched Landon and Victoria in the hospital room with icy detachment.

She hung her head, sobbing quietly, her grief palpable.

Landon kept his eyes down, refusing to look at her.

But the way his fists clenched at his sides gave away everything he was feeling.

It was as if he needed to hold himself back just to resist the urge to wrap her in his arms.

After breaking up with Landon, Victoria had disappeared and only came back to the States last week.

Just catching a glimpse of her profile on the road today sent Landon spiraling—he lost control and ended up crashing his car into the center divider.

That was all it took for his memories to come flooding back.

She hadn't done a thing.

Just the sight of her from the side had shattered my marriage and everything I'd ever felt.

"Landy, why won't you look at me? Is it because you can't forgive me, or... are you afraid?"

Victoria's words cut through the silence.

She got the reaction she wanted—Landon let out a cold, bitter laugh. "Why would I be afraid? You're the one who betrayed me first."

"I didn't know how badly you were hurt back then. I didn't know you'd forgotten me..."

She wiped away her tears, then suddenly lunged forward, arms reaching to embrace Landon.

He reacted instantly, breaking free and shoving Victoria away hard as he gripped her shoulders.

With a loud thud, Victoria slammed into the bed's safety rail, her face twisted in pain.

But she seemed oblivious.

Her eyes were glued to Landon's chest, exposed in the struggle.

"How... how is this possible?"

She reached out with trembling hands, her fingertips barely brushing his skin before she recoiled, unable to bear it.

Landon's expression darkened. His voice was rough and tight. "There used to be a tattoo here."

Now, all that remained was a jagged scar.

Landon once told me he couldn't remember how he got hurt.

Whenever I suggested getting it fixed, he would get moody—either change the subject or tease me, asking if I actually found him repulsive.

Now I understand.

That scar was a relic of their love—a piece of the past he couldn't let go of, no matter how much he'd forgotten.

Instinct kept him from erasing it.

As if she couldn't take it anymore, Victoria threw herself into Landon's arms, clutching his neck, her shoulders shaking with uncontrollable sobs.

This time, Landon didn't push her away.

He slowly raised his hands, hesitating before finally bringing them together on her back.

In that moment—

He looked up, as if sensing something.

Our eyes met in the air, catching each other off guard.

I don't know how long we stared before he pressed his lips together and looked away first.

A heartbeat later, as Victoria's cries echoed through the room, I saw a flicker of emotion cross Landon's face.

Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close in a seamless embrace, his palm firm on her back.

Her heartbroken sobs rang in my ears.

My own eyes burned with sudden heat.

I stepped back.

Robert's question didn't need an answer anymore—I already knew.

Landon's injuries weren't serious.

After the necessary tests and observation period, he was cleared to go home.

When we arrived, Sofia—the housekeeper who managed our daily life—was busy setting the table for dinner.

Landon walked in ahead of me, his tall frame hesitating almost imperceptibly in the entryway.

I followed his gaze.

There, I saw the ornament he'd gone to great lengths to bring back from a business trip, a delicate snow-capped mountain scene, tiny and intricate, with swirling flakes that drifted down when you turned it.

Landon had always had a thing for snow.

Our home was filled with decorations inspired by it.

It felt like just yesterday that he'd promised, with absolute certainty, to take me to Switzerland on his next vacation.

He knew a restaurant there—mulled wine so rich and fragrant, and if you stepped out onto the balcony, you'd be greeted by a panorama of towering, snow-covered peaks.

He said I'd love it.

A dull ache crept into my heart, slow and relentless.

All I could feel was irony.

Dinner was one of Sofia's carefully balanced meals, with a mix of proteins and veggies.

But I barely touched my food.

"Landy learned to cook just to take care of Vicky."

Robert's words echoed in my mind, over and over.

But Landon had never cooked for me.

Of course, by the time we met, he was already a CEO, his days packed so tight that even our dates had to be confirmed by his assistant, sometimes multiple times.

After we got married, Sofia was naturally reassigned to look after us, handling every aspect of our daily lives.

There was never a chance for him to roll up his sleeves and cook.

Noticing how little I'd eaten, Landon shot me a questioning look.

On impulse, the words slipped out. "I've never tasted your cooking."

Landon wiped his mouth with deliberate calm. "What, Sofia's cooking doesn't suit you?"

He raised a hand, and Sofia responded, approaching cautiously. "Mrs. Siebert, if you have any comments, please let me know."

Suddenly, I felt weary and uninterested.

The words that had been on the tip of my tongue for ages finally tumbled out. "Landon, let's get a divorce."

The spoon clattered against the porcelain plate, the sound sharp and jarring.

Landon's tone was flat. "Reason?"

"Do I really need one? You and Victoria..."

"I don't want to hear that name."

Landon cut me off.

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.

When he opened them again, he was back to being the composed, collected Landon.

"Corrie, I know what happened today is hard for you to accept. It's hard for me too."

He paused, his fingers on the table trembling ever so slightly.

"I'm sorry you had to see what happened in the hospital."

He sighed, exhausted.

"Suddenly regaining all those memories—of course, my emotions are all over the place. But Victoria and I are history. Mrs. Siebert will only ever be you."

I didn't know if he was trying to convince me or himself, or if he just wanted to make his promise sound stronger.

He reached out, taking my hand, his warm fingers gently stroking the back of mine.

Looking straight at me, Landon repeated, "Mrs. Siebert will only ever be you."

In the soft glow of the lamp, his eyes were clear, like a shallow lake reflecting my uncertainty.

For a moment, I remembered our past.

I remembered our wedding—how his hand trembled as he slipped the ring onto my finger, his eyes reddening before he pressed a reverent kiss to my knuckle.

I remembered the first time he came to meet my family, so nervous he could barely function, tipsy after my dad made him drink, giggling as he buried his face in my neck and whispered, asking if he'd passed the test.

I remembered just this morning, when he'd acted all mysterious, promising a surprise for our anniversary—one that would make me fall in love with him all over again.

Maybe he sensed my hesitation.

Landon spoke solemnly, "Corrie, you can't just write me off so easily."

My heart fluttered.

I lowered my gaze.

Maybe it was the earnestness in his eyes or it was the flood of memories breaking through my defenses.

I didn't argue.

For the next few weeks, Landon was exactly the same as always.

If anything, he seemed even more loving and attentive than before.

He replied to my texts instantly, kept me updated on everything, and, for the first time in ages, picked me up from work every night, always with gifts and bouquets in hand.

It felt like our lives had settled back into their old rhythm, moving forward along the path we'd always planned.

That is, until one of his friends threw a birthday party and invited us to join.

Standing outside the private room, I overheard the heated debate inside and felt a wave of discomfort.

"What's Landy's deal? Didn't he get his memory back? Why isn't he getting back together with Vicky?"

"Get back together? He's married now!"

"Married? Please. She just swooped in while he was vulnerable. Landy's feelings for Vicky were real—he was head over heels for her. I said it before, if he ever regained his memory, he'd regret it sooner or later."

"Regret what? Victoria dumped Landy first. He was in the hospital for ages, and if she really cared, she wouldn't have ignored him. She couldn't make it overseas, realized Landy was easy to manipulate, and came crawling back."

A warm hand covered mine.

Landon patted my hand and fished a piece of candy from his pocket.

My stomach churned with acid.

I turned my head away.

Landon paused, then tossed the candy into the trash as if it were nothing, sighing, "Don't listen to their nonsense."

He pushed open the door.

The lively argument fell silent for a moment.

Seeing me walk in behind Landon, a few faces flickered with discomfort.

"Landy, why'd you bring her?"

The one who'd been defending Victoria spoke first.

Landon took his seat with calm indifference, raising an eyebrow. "Wilfred, if you can't keep your mouth shut, maybe you should go home and learn how."

Wilfred Donovan scratched his head, stiffening his neck. "Landy, you're really just going to forget about Vicky?"

Everyone's eyes landed, subtly or not, on Landon and me.

Landon acted like he hadn't heard, focusing all his attention on my fingers, absently tracing them with his own.

When he finally spoke, his tone was casual, almost dismissive, "What does she have to do with me? Why would I care?"

"But—"

Wilfred started to protest, but was cut off by the sharp sound of something shattering.

Victoria stood in the doorway, backlit by the hall light, her expression blank.

At her feet, a glass ornament lay in pieces, shards glittering and slicing into her bare calf, where blood began to bead and trickle down.

Sudden pain shot through my hand.

I looked down—Landon was still holding my hand, his grip so tight his knuckles had gone white.

"Landon," I pulled free, "you're hurting me."

Landon jolted as if shocked.

He let go immediately, voice hoarse as he apologized, carefully avoiding Victoria's gaze at the door.

The tension in the room was suffocating, like a balloon stretched to its breaking point.

No one dared be the one to pop it—

Except Victoria.

She suddenly crouched down, nearly falling to her knees, desperately trying to gather the broken glass pieces, as if she could somehow put them back together.

Wilfred rushed over. "What are you doing? Get up! The floor's covered in glass."

Victoria stubbornly evaded him.

She knelt on the floor, head tipped back, her eyes searching for Landon, grief etched deep in her face.

"Landy, it's broken... The last gift you ever gave me is gone..."

Landon looked away, avoiding her gaze with obvious discomfort.

But his whole body was tense, muscles straining like a bowstring pulled to its limit, trembling slightly.

Victoria let out a hollow laugh, as if she'd finally given up.

She rose slowly, staggering—

And fell straight into Landon's arms.

He'd already reached his breaking point the moment she laughed.

Face set in grim determination, he rushed forward, catching her just before she collapsed.

Victoria's face was pale, but her eyes burned with fierce intensity.

"I knew you'd catch me. You promised, no matter what, you'd always come back to me."

Landon scoffed, "Who do you think you are?"

But his arms didn't loosen around her, not even a little.

Victoria struggled, "Then let me go!"

Landon held her tighter, his voice urgent. "Calm down! You know you have hypoglycemia, and you're getting yourself worked up."

He freed one arm and instinctively reached for his pocket, then paused, confused.

Victoria didn't notice his odd expression, her emotions spilling over. "Didn't you just say we're nothing to each other? So why do you still care?"

"Victoria, you were the one who ended things."

Landon's voice was low, as if reminding himself.

"I had no choice!"

Victoria suddenly covered her face, sobbing.

"What was I supposed to do? Your parents didn't want us together.

"You expected me to just watch you give up being the Siebert heir, throw away your future, grovel for investment money at dinner parties, and drink until your stomach bled?

"I couldn't bear to let you sacrifice your life for me! Do you think I didn't suffer too?"

The room was silent.

It felt like the curtain had lifted on a stage, and the spotlight was on her—Victoria's monologue.

"When you had that car accident, I was terrified, scared you'd really..."

She choked, swallowing the word.

"Your mom found me and said none of this would've happened if I hadn't been around.

"Do you know how long that haunted me? You don't know anything! You even forgot about me!"

Victoria yanked up her sleeve, exposing her wrist, mottled with scars.

"Why, Landon? When I was drowning in pain over our past, barely sleeping a few hours a night with a handful of sleeping pills, hurting myself to numb the guilt—And you? You started a brand new life and married someone else, as if nothing happened. Why?"

The spotlight snapped onto me, harsh and unyielding.

I felt like an actor who'd forgotten her lines, standing there with a blank face, trying desperately to keep my composure, to look dignified.

But Victoria wasn't finished.

She pushed Landon aside and strode right up to me.

"What will it take for you to give Landy back to me?"

"Vicky, that's enough," Landon cut in, trying to shield her. His eyes were wary, as if expecting me to lash out.

"Are you really happy, clinging to a man who doesn't belong to you?"

Victoria's question was sharp, her expression fierce.

I felt strangely detached.

As she leaned in, I caught a familiar, cool scent.

Landon had always been obsessed with this fragrance.

He'd even invested in a niche perfume brand just to commission this custom scent.

On our first date, the perfume he'd given me was this exact blend.

I'd always thought it was just a personal quirk.

But in that moment, I realized—Victoria was the one who truly loved it.

And Landon's sense of smell was more loyal than his memory.

The subtle aroma curled into my nose, and the nausea I'd tried to suppress came surging back.

Unable to hold it in, I gagged softly in front of Victoria. "Sorry, could you step back? You're making me sick."

"Coraline, did you really have to be so cruel?"

Landon's reaction was even more dramatic than Victoria's.

He glared at me, disappointment written all over his face.

"And you."

I covered my nose, twisting away from both of them.

"You should keep your distance too. You both reek of the same smell."

I exaggerated a wave of my hand, raising my voice for everyone to hear. "You guys don't smell that?"

No one answered.

I stared straight at Landon. "It smells disgusting."

His face turned pale, then flushed.

After a long moment, he pressed his lips tight and muttered, "It's late. Let me take you home."

"No need," I refused. "Let's settle everything right here."

"Ms. Gunther, you asked what it would take for me to give Landon back to you—"

I let out a soft laugh. "Actually, I've already asked for a divorce. He said no.

"Do you really think your past with him means so much? That your love was so grand? Then why did he forget you, marry someone else, and refuse to leave me now?"

Victoria's expression faltered.

Seeing her discomfort, I felt a wave of satisfaction.

"And another thing, Ms. Gunther—

"Maybe you've been overseas too long, so you don't know. Someone who tries to break up a marriage while it's still intact? We call that a homewrecker."

The words hung in the air for a beat.

Victoria's face went ghostly white.

My words hit her like a sledgehammer, knocking the strength right out of her.

She swayed, nearly collapsing.

Landon caught her just in time, scooping her into his arms.

"Coraline, did you really have to be so vicious? Can't you see she's not well?"

Victoria squeezed her eyes shut, a single tear landing perfectly in the hollow of his neck.

Landon shuddered, torn between pity and anger—

And all of it turned on me.

"Coraline, what right do you have to call her a homewrecker? If we're talking about who came first, you stole her place!"

Regret flickered across his face, his hands trembling.

I grabbed a water glass from the table and hurled it at Landon.

He didn't dodge.

Gasps echoed around the room as the glass struck his temple, water splashing down his face and soaking his hair.

A dark red trickle of blood snaked down his forehead, mingling with the water.

We stared at each other, both expressionless.

No matter how many times I'd told myself not to care, not to be hurt, not to let it get to me—

My throat still burned with bitterness.

I blinked, forcing back tears, clutching my phone.

I switched on the camera and hit record, looking Landon squarely in the eye.

"Go ahead, Landon. Say what you just said again."

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm just so moved by your grand love story. I want everyone to feel it—especially your parents."

Watching his face twist with panic, I smiled sweetly.

"Maybe, if they see how tragic you two are, they'll finally let you be together."

Landon's face was ashen, his jaw clenched tight.

His chest heaved with anger. "Coraline, don't push it too far!"

"Too far?"

I laughed until tears stung my eyes. "And what exactly isn't too far, then?"

"You swore to me she was just the past, but now you're tangled up with her all over again—how is that not too far?

"I did nothing, yet your ex-girlfriend gets to humiliate and accuse me and throw mud at my name—and that's not too far?

"Why am I the only one who's gone too far?"

Landon's eyes flickered, but he said nothing.

Victoria trembled in his arms.

Wilfred was the first to notice something was wrong.

He shouted, panicked, "Vicky looks like she's about to faint!"

Landon's expression shifted instantly; he bent down to check.

Victoria's eyes were shut, her breathing shallow.

Without another thought, Landon scooped her up and rushed out, almost stumbling in his hurry.

From beginning to end, he didn't spare me a single glance.

He stayed with Victoria at the hospital all night.

By the time he came home the next morning, I was just about to leave for work.

A fresh bandage was plastered over the spot where the glass had hit his forehead, making him look a little ridiculous.

He still carried the sharp scent of hospital disinfectant, mingled with a lingering trace of that cold perfume—a sickly, unsettling mix.

As we brushed past each other in the hallway, he grabbed my wrist.

Goosebumps prickled down my arm.

I jerked my hand free, my voice nearly breaking. "Let go of me!"

The movement was so abrupt that Landon's hand scraped against the edge of the cabinet, leaving a faint red mark.

He stood there, slow to react, before finally mumbling, "Corrie, about last night—I'm sorry. Vicky, she..."

"I don't want to hear that name."

I pointed to a stack of papers on the kitchen island.

"The divorce papers. I've already signed them. If you're fine with it, let's go file as soon as we can."

Even if the divorce agreement had come a little late.

Landon's eyes followed my gesture, but his face showed no relief.

"So you've wanted to divorce me all along?"

What a ridiculous accusation.

I straightened up. "Did you forget what you said last night?"

Honestly, when I heard those words, the only thought in my mind was, I will never agree to divorce him. I'd never give up being Mrs. Siebert so easily.

I wanted Victoria to be forever branded as the homewrecker.

I wanted to hurt Landon and let him hurt me too, until every feeling was burned away, until all that was left was mutual resentment.

No matter how badly he and Victoria wanted to reunite, I would always be the wall between them.

Until, by chance, I caught my own reflection in the living room's floor-to-ceiling window—a blurred, angry face twisted with bitterness.

Suddenly, I snapped back to reality.

Was I really willing to turn myself into a weapon of revenge?

Sacrifice my own life for a man?

Was it worth it?

Landon's lips tightened. "I didn't mean what I said last night."

"If you didn't mean it, doesn't that just prove it's what you really think deep down?"

"I've never wanted to divorce you."

Landon's lips tightened into a thin line as he turned away, his voice rough and low, like it was dragged out of his chest.

I walked past him. "Well, from now on, maybe you should start thinking about it."