Why Mourn What You Killed?

When Alexander Smith stands in front of me and says he's going to marry someone else, that's when I realize he's been reborn too.

I remember our 20 years of love in our past life. A plane crash. And then, rebirth.

"This is to save Sophia," he says. "In our past life, she was sold to a Vostmark oligarch after her father's political scandal. Not long after, she took her own life due to abuse. I can't let that tragedy happen again, so I need to get engaged to her."

As he speaks, he hands me an orange prescription bottle.

"If you take this, you'll forget me for a little while. You won't feel the pain. It's just seven days. Once her father's scandal blows over, you'll stop the medication and your memory will return. Then I'll end the engagement and officially propose to you."

I stare at the bottle, knowing it's a lie.

Not the part about Sophia's suicide. The lie is about the drug.

He thinks it only causes temporary memory loss. But I know better.

The suppressant causes permanent damage to emotional memory.

The seven-day countdown isn't the time it takes for my memories to return.

It's the time it takes for my love for him to die.

He asked me to take a memory suppressant—to erase 20 years of love—just so he could become another woman's hero. And even knowing it would sever my ability to love him forever, I still played along and saw the performance through to the end.

Alexander Smith set the bottle on the marble countertop, his fingers drumming nervously.

"I know you don't like Sophia, and I understand you feel angry over my engagement to her. But try to understand.

"You're the heir to the McKenzie family, the youngest investment director at Dominion Exchange. No one could ever force you into a political marriage. Sophia's different. Her father's a power-hungry senator. If I don't protect her, she'll be used as a political pawn.

"I can't bear to watch another tragedy unfold. You understand that, don't you?"

I stared at him, my gray-blue eyes devoid of emotion.

I couldn't pinpoint when the man who once promised to love me for eternity began feeling sympathy for Sophia Watson.

He was fully aware of how she'd ripped through everything that was mine.

That she shorted my portfolio—a financial loss of 20 million dollars—during her tenure at my company.

That she clawed away every opportunity of mine since business school.

Internships she'd snatched, client leads rerouted, and even him—my fiance.

And still, he chose to protect her.

When I stayed silent, Alexander raked his fingers through his golden-brown hair in frustration. "The drug is gentle—no side effects. Seven days will go by quickly. Once Sophia's safe, we can start over.

"Emma, trust me—just like you always have."

However, this drug didn't erase my memory instantly. Instead, it gradually severed emotional connections until the neural pathways were irrevocably damaged. And stopping the medication wouldn't fix it—the