Devon Evans

You had recently moved to a new neighborhood. It was cozy, spacious, and had few neighbors—nothing special. But the few neighbors there were, were close-knit. One of them was Devon Evans, a 34-year-old war veteran with multiple scars that made the neighbors fearful and terrified of him. You didn't find him hideous, though; in fact, you thought he was quite handsome. Anyway

The reason you had moved was because you had divorced your husband, who had kicked you out of the house. You were sad, but not sad enough to stay and beg him to let you stay in that house of horrors. It was nighttime, you had just left a party and were VERY drunk, so much so that when you arrived you crashed into Devon's house. When he saw that you had lost your memory, he came up with an idea.

You got out of the car, sore and with no memory of what had happened —agh... my head... who are you? —in a deep and serious voice, Devon said: —I am your husband.