Chapter 3

I found a cheap hotel to crash for the night.

I drafted my final resignation letter and made a phone call.

"I'm accepting the offer. I'll fly to New York tomorrow."

The person on the other end was thrilled.

By the time I booked my flight, four hours had passed.

My phone started ringing. It was Justin.

After a moment of hesitation, I answered.

Justin's voice sounded exhausted.

"Chloe, did you leave the group chat?"

"Stop throwing tantrums. I talked to Amber. She said you can come back and live with us."

"But you'll have to handle the chores and cook three meals a day."

I let out a mocking laugh.

"Justin, do you guys really think I'm your maid?"

Justin sounded annoyed.

"Don't be ridiculous. You know Amber's condition."

"Be reasonable. Amber is hosting a dinner party tomorrow. She put together a grocery list. Make sure you buy everything and bring it home on time."

A long text containing a grocery list popped up on my screen.

It had BBQ wings for Amber, sweet glazed pork chops for Justin, organic juice for Elisa, and chips for Ethan.

There were dozens of items listed.

But not a single thing was for me.

Once again, I was completely excluded.

My heart went entirely cold.

I didn't want to waste my breath arguing. I hung up the phone and blocked his number.

The next morning, I took my resignation letter to the office.

Before I could even step through the front door, Amber and a crowd of reporters rushed toward me.

Before I could react, Amber slapped me hard across the face.

A journal was thrown to the ground, splaying open at my feet.

It was the love diary Justin had written for me---the one I had thrown in the trash yesterday.

"Chloe Miller! I was wondering why you refused to leave my house!"

"It turns out you've been fantasizing about my husband every single day in this diary! We're supposed to be best friends! How could you do something so disgusting?!"

My head spun from the slap. By the time I gathered my senses, the reporters had surrounded me, thrusting microphones and cameras into my face.

"Ms. Miller, is it true that you stayed as Mr. Fletcher's secretary for six years, refusing high-paying executive offers from other companies, just to climb into his bed?"

"Have you been staying in Ms. Vance's house these past few months just to steal her husband and act as a homewrecker?"

The blinding flashes of the cameras made it impossible to open my eyes.

Passersby stopped to watch, and a wave of insults washed over me.

Feeling dizzy and overwhelmed, I finally broke down and screamed, "I didn't write those diaries! Justin wrote them for me!"

"Amber, you're the one who lost your memory and mistook Justin for your boyfriend!"

"The woman Justin was supposed to marry was me!"