I woke up the next morning after barely sleeping. Too many thoughts were running through my mind.
That envelope, how did it get there? Who were the man and woman? And that memory… what was it even supposed to mean?
I knew I'd lost a part of my memory, but after so long, I'd gotten used to living without it. I stopped trying to get it back.
Was that wrong of me?
"I should head to work," I mumbled. That was the only thing that could keep my mind off all these questions.
It took me nearly an hour to get ready. A quick shower, then I slipped into a pair of flowing pants, a white shirt, and a fitted corset. Black heels, a matching bag, a few simple pieces of jewellery, nothing too fancy.
I hesitated for a while before also taking the envelope
I was about to head out when the doorbell rang.
I frowned. I wasn't expecting anyone. Was it Dad? Or maybe Mia? Speaking of Mia, she has been strangely quiet lately. I wondered what was going on with her… though it wasn't really my business.
I walked to the door and opened it only to see Cyrus.
What was he doing here?
"By the look on your face, I can tell you're surprised to see me," he said with that infuriatingly calm smile.
"Surprised" was an understatement. I just nodded, unsure what to say.
"Have you forgotten?" he continued, tilting his head slightly. "We're supposed to go to my lawyer's office today. After that, we'll register our marriage."
I blinked. Once. Twice.
Marriage?
"Didn't you say you'd send your lawyer over so I could review the contract first? I was supposed to make changes," I said, wondering if I was still half-asleep and dreaming of this conversation.
"Well," he said lightly, "I changed my mind. Besides, you can do that if we go together. Right?"
Then, as if he hadn't just dropped a nuclear-level surprise on me, he added, "Since you're already dressed, we should get going."
He turned and started walking toward his car, fully expecting me to follow.
And of course, I did because what else could I do?
ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ
The ride was painfully silent at first. Cyrus had his usual composed expression, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting casually on the window.
Meanwhile, my brain was spinning faster than the car's wheels.
Was i really getting married today? Well, it was a contract marriage, but nevertheless, it was still a marriage.
I turned to glance at him. "You seem… awfully calm for someone dragging a woman to sign a marriage contract."
He smiled again — that same quiet, knowing smile. "And you seem awfully calm for someone who agreed to marry a man she barely knows."
I opened my mouth, then closed it. Okay, fair point.
"I didn't agree," I said finally. "I was cornered."
"Semantics," he replied smoothly, his eyes still on the road. "Either way, it's happening."
I stared at him, part of me wanting to demand answers, part of me just wanting to jump out of the moving car. But the worst part?
Somewhere deep down, beneath all the confusion and irritation, there was this… strange feeling.
Like I'd known him before.
"Cyrus," I said quietly, eyes still on the glass. "Why are you doing this?"
He didn't answer right away. When he did, his voice was calm.
"Because I don't like wasting time."
"That's not an answer."
He chuckled. "You want honesty?"
"That would be nice."
He exhaled through his nose, finally looking at me. His eyes were sharp but… tired. "Because I need you. And because you need me—even if you don't remember why."
My breath caught.
"What?"
He didn't look away. "You heard me."
Before I could say anything else, the car slowed and pulled into a gated parking lot. A sleek building rose ahead—tinted windows, tall pillars, the kind of place that smelled like money and secrets.
He got out first, circling around to open my door. I hesitated for a moment, half tempted to run. But curiosity—or maybe foolishness—won.
Inside, the air was cool and quiet. A woman in a grey suit greeted Cyrus with a polite bow of her head, then led us toward an office.
I barely noticed her. My attention was drawn to the hallways.
The smell of polished wood. The faint hum of conversation. The faint, flickering image of someone laughing—me? And a man beside me—his voice deep, warm.
My chest tightened. The memory disappeared as quickly as it came.
"Are you okay?" Cyrus's voice broke through my thoughts.
"I–yeah," I said quickly, shaking my head. "Just dizzy."
He gave me a look that said he didn't buy it but didn't press further.
We stepped into the lawyer's office. A man in his fifties stood to greet us. "Mr. Vale, Miss..."
"Hart," Cyrus finished for him, his voice calm and practised.
The lawyer blinked. "Ah. Of course."
Hart? The name rolled from his tongue… it sounded almost foreign coming from him. Like something from a dream.
I looked at Cyrus. "i received an envelope?" I asked, pausing. "Was that you?"
He didn't look at me. "Maybe not" he replied, turning to look at me.
My heart skipped. "What is that supposed to mean?"
The lawyer coughed awkwardly, pretending to check his files. Cyrus leaned closer, voice low. "We'll discuss that later,"
"No," I said, stepping back slightly. "Now,"
For the first time, his composure cracked,just a little. His eyes met mine, a storm flickering behind them. "Sienna not now." He said, his voice straning just a little bit.
The lawyer cleared his throat again. "Shall we begin, Mr. Vale?"
Cyrus straightened immediately, mask sliding back into place. "Yes. Let's."
I sat stiffly beside him as the lawyer started talking about clauses, property rights, and joint ownerships—all the things people pretend to care about when they sign their lives away.
But I wasn't listening.
All I could think about was that envelope.
Something about this wasn't just business. It was personal. Deeply personal.
My eyes drifted to him again. He was watching the papers, calm and cold. But when he sensed me looking, his gaze flicked up—and for a second, I saw something real there.
Guilt.
Maybe even… sorrow.
I swallowed hard. My fingers brushed against the envelope still tucked in my bag—the same one that had started this whole mess.
And suddenly, I wasn't sure if I wanted answers anymore.
Because the truth?
It felt like it might already be waiting for me.
And it terrified me.