My Amnesiac Husband Asked for Divorce, I Laughed and Walked Away Chapter 12

My Amnesiac Husband Asked for Divorce, I Laughed and Walked Away Chapter 12

We walked out of the county clerk’s office into 

perfect sunlight. 

Finn held my hand, walking half his usual pace to 

match me. 

“What’s wrong with your leg?” he asked. 

“Nothing.” 

“You’re walking differently.” 

I glared at him. “You lost your memory and you’re 

still this observant?” 

He smiled slightly and didn’t press. 

In the car, I leaned back and remembered 

something. 

“Finn.” 

“Yeah?” 

“That necklace.” 

“What necklace?” 

“The pink diamond one–the one you gave Serena.” 

His grip on the wheel tightened. Two–second 

pause. 

“She took that from my office.” 

“You believe that?” 

“I checked the security footage.” He glanced at 

1. me. “She said she wanted to see my new office. 

While I took a call, she opened my safe.” 

“Is your safe combination her birthday?” 

“Your birthday.” 

I froze. 

“You never changed it?” 

“Why would I?” He glanced over. “The safe was set before I lost my memory. The combination is your birthday. I opened it once after I lost my memory- it had our marriage certificate, our birth 

certificates, and-” 

He reached into the center console and pulled out 

a velvet box. 

“And this.” 

I opened it. The pink diamond necklace lay quietly 

inside, gleaming. 

“I got it back,” he said. “Right after the wedding that day. I’d rather donate it than let her keep it.” 

I touched the diamond and suddenly remembered him hunched over his desk for over six months, sketching. 

“Thirty–seven versions,” he said. 

“You remember?” 

“Not the details. But at the bottom of the drafts, I’d written: [For her. One of a kind.]” 

My nose prickled. 

“Finn.” 

“Yeah?” 

“If you ever give what’s mine to someone else 

again-” 

“I won’t.” 

“Promise?” 

He pulled the car over and killed the engine. He 

turned to me, his gaze solemn. 

“I promise.” 

“Starting today–you’re mine. Your things are mine. 

The baby is mine. Anyone who touches–they’ll 

answer to me.” 

“Serena?” 

“Legal’s already sent her a letter. Defamation. Theft. Break–in. She’ll have her hands full.” 

I stared for three seconds, then burst out laughing. 

“Really?” 

“Mm.” 

“She was your ex-” 

“Ex?” He frowned. “I know we dated. Details aren’t back yet. But how I feel right now-” 

“What?” 

“When I think about her, nothing. When I think 

about you-” He looked down at his chest, then 

back at me. “My heart beats. I think that’s the right 

answer.” 

I looked at him and stopped wanting to cry. 

I put the necklace on–the pink diamond cool 

against my collarbone. 

“How does it look?” 

He looked for a long time. 

“Good.” 

“Better than on her.” 

“Of course.” I lifted my chin. “I picked the design.” 

He smiled and started the car. 

“Home.” 

I touched my belly. I touched the necklace. I leaned back and looked at the sky outside. 

Late autumn–high and blue, pigeons circling between buildings. 

Six years ago, I’d stood outside Caldwell Corp with my printed resume, palms sweating. I never could have imagined- 

That one day, I’d be in the passenger seat of this man’s car, wearing a one–of–a–kind necklace, carrying his child, and being led by him to remarry. 

“Finn.” 

“Yeah?” 

“When will you let me read your diary?” 

“No.” 

“Why?” 

“Too embarrassing.” He stared straight ahead, but 

the tips of his ears went red. “It’s full of nice things 

about you.” 

“I want to read it.” 

“No.” 

“Then read it to me.” 

“…When we get home.” 

I reached over and placed my hand over his on the gearshift. He tightened his fingers, turned his hand 

over, and clasped mine. 

“Once you get your memory back,” I said, “what’s 

the first thing you’ll do?” 

He thought about it. 

“Burn the diary.” 

“Finn!” 

He laughed, turned the wheel–the car gliding into 

the tree–lined road of the villa district. Sunlight 

poured through the leaves, dappled gold across 

the windshield. 

“I’ll show you once before I burn it,” he said. 

“Better.” 

“Then I burn it.” 

“Try it.” 

“I’m joking.” 

He parked, killed the engine, and turned to look at 

1. me. 

“Tessa.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Thank you for not leaving.” 

I looked at him–at those eyes, finally holding light. 

again. 

I reached over and pinched his cheek. 

“Don’t thank me. I’ve got your eight million dollars. 

Leaving would’ve been a waste.” 

He smiled under my pinch, eyes curving. 

“From now on, my paychecks are yours.” 

“They already were.” 

“…Yeah.” 

We got out, walking hand in hand toward the villa. 

The autumn wind swept up ginkgo leaves–golden, 

spiraling. 

I put my hand on my belly and whispered: Baby. 

We’re home. 

This time, your dad begged your mom to come 

back.