A Decade Past, How Have You Been"

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The day I found out Nathan Wilde had cheated on me again, our world exploded.

I screamed at him, called him a self-degrading, shameless pig. A man his age, still messing around with young girls.

He laughed and called me a washed-up hag, said I was mentally unstable.

You talk about shame? You defied your own father to run away with me when you were eighteen!

"You think you're so noble? You had two abortions in three years."

"Amy, you're the most pathetic person on this entire planet!"

Our fight raged from our home all the way to the psychiatric hospital he was trying to commit me to. Right at the hospital entrance, a speeding car slammed into us.

As my consciousness faded, I heard Nathan's vicious curse. He said that in his next life, and the life after that, he never wanted to see my detestable old face again.

But when I opened my eyes, I saw an eighteen-year-old Nathan Wilde, holding a bouquet of flowers, smiling at me.

"Amy," he said, "I'm in love with you."

1.

I wasn't dead, and I wasn't insane.

Nathan had amnesia from the crash.

His memory had reset to ten years ago.

To the year he loved me most.

He'd forgotten everything that had happened between us, all the betrayals and the bitter arguments. And now he was standing by my bedside, holding a bouquet of flowers, grinning from ear to ear.

"Honey, you're awake," he said, his voice bright. "I don't know what happened. I woke up and suddenly it's ten years in the future. They all say I have amnesia, but who cares? As long as you're my wife, I'm not afraid of anything."

He looked around the private room, his eyes wide with wonder. "Wow, the older me is pretty amazing. A nice car, a big house, and I even married the girl of my dreams. Heh, Amy, I must be the happiest man in the world."

The white roses were still beaded with morning dew. They were obviously expensive. Only the eighteen-year-old Nathan would move heaven and earth to give me the very best.

But as I looked at the roses, my mind was flooded with images of him tangled in bed with Jessica.

A wave of nausea churned in my stomach.

I flinched away from his touch, disgusted, and swatted the bouquet to the floor.

"Cut the crap, Nathan," I said, my voice flat. "Let's get a divorce."

The joy in the young man's eyes vanished, replaced by sheer panic. He grabbed my hand, his face a mask of desperation.

"Amy, what are you talking about? Why a divorce? Isn't this what we always dreamed of?"

"I know it's my fault. I didn't take good care of you, and you got hurt. I promise, I'll never be so careless again, I'll"

Before he could finish, the door swung open.

Jessica teetered in on her high heels, a look of frantic concern on her face. Ignoring me completely, she threw herself into Nathan's arms.

"Nathan, oh, thank God you're okay. When I heard about the accident, I nearly died. It's all that bitch Amy's fault. A washed-up old hag, clinging to her title as Mrs. Wilde. If she knew you didn't love her anymore, she should have just stepped aside gracefully! If she wanted to die, fine, but how could she drag you down with her? Look at your hands, all those stitches it must hurt so much"

Jessica stroked his hand, shooting me a hateful glare.

My head was still spinning. I turned away, not wanting to deal with her.

But Nathan shoved her away, his face a picture of confusion and disgust.

"What the hell are you talking about? Washed-up hag? My wife is beautiful. She'll always be the most beautiful woman in the world. And you what are you? With that face that looks like you paid a plastic surgeon a fortune, you dare criticize my wife? Get away from me. I'm allergic to your perfume!"

He pinched his nose and shuffled closer to me, like a puppy waiting for praise, hoping for a pat on the head.

But all I felt was revulsion.

The hickey on his neck hadn't even faded. Jessica's lipstick was still smeared on his collar. Every inch of him was stained with the scent of betrayal. The twenty-eight-year-old Nathan had been warped beyond recognition by years of indulgence.

I said nothing more.

By the time Nathan had gotten rid of Jessica, my lawyer had sent over the divorce papers. I forwarded the digital file to Nathan's phone, my silence speaking volumes.

He stood frozen, his eyes widening in shock before slowly turning red. He choked back a sob for a long moment, then finally looked up, his eyes swimming with tears.

"Why?"

"Amy, believe me, I'm not lying to you. I don't know why I have amnesia. If you don't like it, I'll take my medicine, I'll see the doctors. I know we must have fought so hard to be together. Please don't leave me over a little misunderstanding. Please?"

I believed him. I believed he really had amnesia. Because it had been years since Nathan had looked at me with such tenderness. Ever since Jessica appeared, his eyes held nothing but contempt and cold indifference.

But I was done.

The eighteen-year-old Amy would have died for love.

The twenty-eight-year-old Amy just wanted a bigger settlement in the divorce.

Whether Nathan had amnesia or had simply lost his mind, for me, this was a golden opportunity.

2.

While Nathan was gone, I discharged myself from the hospital.

Our home was still a disaster zone. Shards of glass littered the floor, mixed with used condoms and torn lingerie. I had to marvel at his stamina. He'd had enough energy for a marathon session with Jessica and then a knock-down, drag-out fight with me.

I kicked our shattered wedding photo out of the way and called the cleaning service to deal with the mess. I wasn't about to let him have this multi-million dollar house for free.

While I was taking pictures for evidence, Nathan burst in, holding a box with a chocolate cake, panting.

"Amy, I just stepped out to buy a cake, why did you leave on your own? You didn't even say anything, do you have any idea how worried I was?"

He was grumbling, but he carefully presented the cake to me, trying to coax a smile. "I remember you always loved the cake from this place. I can't believe it's still open after ten years. Here, try some. See if it tastes the same."

I took a few steps back and shook my head. "I don't eat that stuff anymore."

Not since the time he'd turned the car around to buy Jessica a cake, leaving me stranded on the side of the road. Not since the time he'd pushed me into a tiered cake display just to make her laugh.

I had given up all sweets. Especially chocolate, Jessica's favorite.

The distance in my voice made him flinch, a wounded look crossing his face. But he quickly recovered, moving closer. He had no idea I was taking inventory of our assets for the divorce and cheerfully started "helping" me clean up.

When he found a small box under the bed, his eyes lit up. "Amy, this is the wish box I gave you! You kept it all this time! I knew it. You were just saying all that angry stuff. We must have had a great marriage."

He pulled out a few slips of paper and started reading them aloud.

"Buy Amy a big villa by the sea."

"Take Amy on a trip around the world."

"Have a cute baby with Amy."

"Make Amy the happiest woman in the world!"

"Amy, we're so rich now. We must have made all these wishes come true, right? Do you have any pictures? Show me! Maybe it'll jog my memory."

He was getting more and more excited, completely oblivious to my clenched fists.

I snatched the papers from his hand and tore them to shreds. Then, unable to hold back any longer, I shoved my phone in his face.

"Oh yes," I said with a cold smile. "Your wishes all came true."

"But they had nothing to do with me."

"The person you bought luxury cars for, lived in a villa with, and traveled the world with wasn't me. It was your precious Jessica!"

After he made his fortune, Nathan bought a seaside villa for our marital home. But when Jessica said she liked it, he signed it over to her that very night.

We almost had a baby. But two consecutive miscarriages left me unable to conceive again. And while I was at home, recovering, at my lowest and most helpless point, Nathan took Jessica on a trip around the world.

My voice was a low growl, my words clipped with rage. "You're a very generous man, Nathan. Every new city, every new landmark, you made sure to send me a photo of you and Jessica. Sometimes you were kissing, sometimes hugging. Sometimes they were naked."

"The worst was when you sent me her ultrasound report."

"Nathan, back then, I refused to break up with you out of pride, out of a stubborn refusal to lose. But now I'm just tired. I don't have the energy to fight with you anymore."

"Sign the papers. And get out."

The explicit photos on my phone screen made his eyes widen in horror. He just kept shaking his head, muttering, "This is impossible. Impossible. I would never do that to you. Amy, what on earth happened these past ten years?"

He grabbed my arm, desperate for an answer. But I didn't know how to begin. I hate remembering. We were together for so long that the pain and the struggle were etched into my bones. Every time I looked back, it was like tearing open a barely healed wound, exposing the raw, bloody mess of our past.

But I knew how stubborn Nathan could be. There were some things he needed to understand.