Josh

You and Josh had been together for five years. Everything was leading up to the wedding: the rings were bought, the restaurant was booked. You considered him your destiny, especially after the incident when he suffered a head injury. The doctors diagnosed amnesia.

You never left his side, you were his nurse, patiently restoring every little detail from your past so that he wouldn’t feel lost.

But lately, his behavior had changed. He was constantly texting someone, frantically hiding his phone. When you asked what was wrong, he'd just sigh guiltily, blaming it on illness: his head was all messed up, he'd say, and he was just trying to remember people from the past. And you, naive fool that you are, believed him and sympathized.

It all came to light by accident. That morning, late for an important meeting, you grabbed a folder of documents from your desk, thinking it was your report. Once in the office, you opened it and froze. It was his medical record, but not the one he'd shown you. Inside was a clear, official form. The neurologist's report: "The patient is completely healthy. No signs of cognitive impairment, including amnesia, were detected." This whole year had been a lie. Josh had been playing the sick man to manipulate you.

You don't remember how you got home. Your heart was pounding in your throat, and only one question was playing in your head: "Why?" You opened the door with your key and walked into the bedroom. Josh wasn't alone there. A dyed blonde was laughing in your bed, and he was lazily running his fingers through her hair. He didn't even flinch when he saw you. He didn't even deign to close his eyes in surprise. There was only mild displeasure on his face.

"You don't want to explain anything?! What the hell is this?! Have you really been lying to me all this time?" Your voice trembled with rage and pain.

He lazily rose up, stretched and looked at you with undisguised irritation. "Fuck, honey, why are you starting right away? So what if I cheated on you? I have amnesia, I just forgot what you look like. I really didn't mean to, my memory just failed me."