Chapter 2: The Price of Letting Go

I took a deep breath and pushed open the hospital room door again. Adam tensed up immediately, glaring at me and moving to shield Rachel, like I was some threat. “What do you want now?”

I saw the fear in his eyes, the way he instinctively put himself between Rachel and me. I almost laughed—me, the villain in my own marriage. But I straightened my shoulders and walked in anyway. I wasn’t letting him erase me that easily.

I clenched my fists and repeated in my head: He lost his memory, it’s not his fault... But anger burned in my chest. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t take it anymore.

My nails dug into my palms. I tried to breathe, to count to ten, but the anger was suffocating, hot and close. He might have forgotten, but I remembered everything.

So I pulled out my phone and tossed it onto his lap. “Take a good look—who am I?”

The phone landed with a soft thud on the blanket. I scrolled through the photos, holding the screen right in front of him so he couldn’t look away. Our wedding day. Christmas mornings. Lazy Sundays tangled in bed. I wanted him to see every single moment he’d lost.

“You—!” He tried to shove my phone away, but then he caught a glimpse of our marriage certificate. His eyes went wide with disbelief.

He froze, color draining from his face. His hand hovered over the screen, shaking just a little. He looked like he’d seen a ghost—his own ghost.

“This... this can’t be...” He started scrolling, faster and faster, flipping through every photo and sappy video he’d ever sent me. Ten minutes passed before he finally stopped. He looked up, face twisted in confusion.

I watched him, arms folded, my heart hammering. Every swipe felt like another twist of the knife. When he finally met my eyes, his face was a mess of regret and disbelief.

“Why... don’t I remember any of this?”

His voice was small, almost broken. For a second, he looked like a lost kid—like someone who’d wandered too far and couldn’t find their way home. I almost felt bad for him. Almost.

Rachel peeked out from behind him, shooting me the stink-eye. “So what if you’re married? Who knows what kind of tricks you pulled?”

She sneered, lips curled. Her jealousy was so obvious you could smell it. She latched onto Adam’s arm, daring me to argue.

Adam’s eyes lit up, like he’d just been handed a get-out-of-jail-free card. “Right! I never would’ve married you on my own. I want a divorce!”

He clung to that idea like a lifeline, his voice loud and desperate, as if repeating it would make it true. I almost rolled my eyes.

Huh?

I glanced at him. He hadn’t even bothered to take off his wedding ring.

The band still gleamed on his finger, plain as day. For all his talk, he still hadn’t let go. I almost pointed it out, but what would be the point?

“You sure?”

My voice was light, maybe a little mocking. I wanted him to say it again, to really mean it. Part of me wondered if he’d hesitate, just for a second.

Adam didn’t flinch. He grabbed Rachel’s hand, lacing their fingers together, face set in stone. “I’ll only ever love Rachel. There’s no way I would’ve married you! You must’ve forced me!”

His words stung like a slap. He squeezed Rachel’s hand, holding her up like a shield. The conviction in his voice was almost convincing—almost.

Rachel looked like she might burst into happy tears. “Adam, you’re the only one for me, too.”

Her voice trembled, all devotion and drama. She clung to him like he was the last man on earth. The whole thing was so over-the-top I almost laughed.

The two of them stared into each other’s eyes, as if they were auditioning for a soap opera.

It was like watching a bad romance flick, the kind you watch ironically. I half-expected them to start reciting vows right then and there.

I snorted. Adam shot me a glare. “Name your price. Let’s get divorced right now.”

The sound slipped out before I could stop it. Adam’s glare was ice cold, but I just shrugged. If he wanted to end it, let’s see how far he’d go.

I sighed. So this was what it had come to. Honestly, our spark had been fading for months. I’d been ready to move on, but guilt held me back. He did try—at work, at home—to make me happy. I’m not petty, just realistic.

I paused, remembering the good times—late nights at the office, takeout on the couch, the little things he did to make me smile. But the spark was gone long before the crash. I owed it to both of us to let go.

So I said, “A hundred million.”

I let the number hang in the air, watching their faces. It was a test, one last shot to see if he’d flinch. Spoiler: he didn’t.

Adam hadn’t even blinked, but Rachel shot up, eyes bugging out. “Lady, are you crazy? Why not just rob a bank?” Her gaze zeroed in on my limited-edition purse, green with envy. “I’ve seen women like you—scheming for rich men, living off their money.”

She practically hissed, eyes glued to my bag. I recognized the look—pure, burning jealousy. Her voice was shrill, bouncing off the walls.

“I live off him?” I nearly snorted.

The whole thing was so ridiculous it was almost funny. I’d built my own business before Adam ever showed up. But sure, let her believe whatever made her sleep at night.

“Am I wrong!” she snapped. “Isn’t that bag bought with Adam’s money?”

She jabbed a perfectly manicured finger at my purse, voice rising. I caught the nurses pretending not to listen, but their ears were definitely tuned in.

I looked her up and down, amused. “So what price do you think is fair?”

I leaned in, smiling just enough to make her squirm. Let’s see if she could outsmart me.

“Five thousand...” Her eyes darted, then her voice shot up. “Thirty million at most!”

She said it like she was offering me the world. I had to bite back a laugh.

I raised an eyebrow. Bargaining the other way—she really did think she was clever.

I had to give her credit. She was fast, but not fast enough.

“Fine.”

I agreed without missing a beat. Rachel clearly hadn’t expected me to fold so easily. She froze, then blurted, “Cash only! Don’t even think about Adam’s property or shares!”

Her voice was sharp, all business now. She clung to Adam’s arm like he might vanish if she let go. Her desperation was almost funny.

His property? I paused. That tiny condo out in the suburbs? Not even as big as my bathroom. “Not interested,” I said, waving her off.

I couldn’t help but smirk. If she wanted that little shoebox, it was all hers. I had bigger things to worry about.

She stared at me, suspicious, then leaned in to whisper to Adam. My ears are sharp—I caught words like “general manager,” “suburban house,” “worth billions.”

Her whispers weren’t nearly as quiet as she thought. His gaze sharpened, greed and confusion mixing together.

Adam’s eyes got brighter and brighter. Finally, he looked at me with pure disdain. “Thirty million, huh? You’re something else. Take the money and go. Don’t ever show your face again.”

He spat the words like they tasted foul. The new contempt in his voice stung, but I wore it like armor. If that’s how he wanted to play it, fine.

I blinked, realization dawning. He thought he was paying me off. What a deal.

A slow smile crept across my face. Thirty million to walk away from this circus? I’d take it.

Maybe worried I’d change my mind, Rachel insisted we sign the agreement on the spot. In less than thirty minutes, Attorney Brooks was in the hospital room. When he saw me, he looked like he wanted to say something.

Rachel was bouncing on her heels, clutching Adam’s arm. Brooks, always the professional, shot me a look—half sympathy, half warning. I gave him a nod. For now, this was fine.

“Ms.—”

His voice was soft, almost hesitant. I could tell he wanted to check in, but Rachel cut him off before he could finish.

“Are you Attorney Brooks?” Rachel snapped, eyebrows arched. “Draft a divorce agreement for Mr. Whitaker. Right now!”

She barked the order like she owned the place. Brooks blinked, then straightened his tie, slipping into lawyer mode. He set his briefcase on the tray table, fingers flying over his laptop.

“Divorce agreement?” Brooks’s eyes slid past Rachel to me.

His gaze lingered, questioning. I nodded, face calm as stone. This was my call. I wasn’t going to let them see me sweat.

I nodded. “Do as they say.”

My voice was steady, maybe even a little bored. I just wanted this over. Brooks nodded back, silent understanding passing between us.

Brooks, chief counsel for Whitaker Enterprises, covered his surprise and pulled out his laptop.

The clack of the keys was the only sound for a moment. Rachel hovered over his shoulder, practically breathing down his neck. Adam sat stiff, his hand glued to Rachel’s.

Rachel nearly crawled over the keyboard, her nails drumming on the screen. “Write here that she gets thirty million, and everything else under Adam’s name stays with him!”

She was relentless, spelling out every detail. Her voice was shrill, insistent. Brooks glanced at me, but I just shrugged. Let her have her fun.

Brooks hesitated, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Mr. Whitaker compensates Ms. Lin—”

He paused, eyes flicking to me, waiting for a cue. I nodded. He cleared his throat, fingers poised over the keys.

I gave a small nod; he kept typing, careful with every word. Rachel rolled her eyes, but kept quiet.

Adam, all impatience, tugged at the bandage on his head. “Just write it. Hurry up!”

He was fidgety, restless, patience worn thin. I watched him, wondering if he’d ever been this eager to get rid of me, or if it was just the amnesia talking.

I caught a flicker of a smile on Brooks’s lips, gone in an instant. He finished the draft and spun the laptop around, the cursor blinking at the signature line.

As soon as it was ready, Adam snatched up the pen and signed. I took my time, signing my name in slow, deliberate strokes. Rachel grabbed the agreement and hugged it to her chest. “Alright, let’s go to the courthouse now.”

She was giddy, practically vibrating with excitement. She hugged the folder like it was the winning lottery ticket. Adam looked relieved, rubbing the back of his neck, already halfway out of bed.

So eager? I glanced at the bandage still on Adam’s head. “Is he okay like this?”

I couldn’t help but smirk. He still looked pale, but if he was this determined, who was I to stop him? Rachel shot me a glare, but I just shrugged.

“He’s fine! Of course he’s fine!”

Rachel’s voice was sharp, almost defensive. She tugged at Adam’s sleeve, desperate to get moving.

Adam swung his legs over the side, wincing as he stood. The hospital gown hung awkwardly on his frame, but he straightened his shoulders, determined to walk out on his own terms.