My Amnesiac Husband Asked for Divorce, I Laughed and Walked Away Chapter 05

My Amnesiac Husband Asked for Divorce, I Laughed and Walked Away Chapter 05

I woke up in a hospital room. White ceiling. 

Disinfectant stinging my throat. 

Someone was holding my right hand. Warm palm. 

Defined knuckles. 

Finn. 

He sat beside the bed, suit jacket gone, shirt collar 

undone, dark circles hollow under his eyes. His 

eyes were red–like he hadn’t slept all night. 

I tried to speak–he’d called me “Tessa” when I 

fainted. That was his pre–accident name for me. 

Sometimes in bed, sometimes in the morning, 

sometimes just passing by. Had he remembered? 

I moved my fingers. Finn’s head snapped up. 

Our eyes met. Something flickered in his, then 

went dark. 

“You’re awake.” 

He let go, stood, pressed the call button. “I’ll get the doctor.” Quick. Like he was running from something. 

The doctor came in, flipped through my chart, checked the monitors, and smiled. “Mrs. Caldwell, 

congratulations. You’re two months pregnant.” 

I lay frozen. 

Two months? 

That was before the accident–we’d still been… I 

counted on my fingers. My face went hot. 

Finn stood motionless, lips parted. 

“The child…” His throat moved, voice hoarse. “Is it 

mine?” 

Those words pricked the softest part of my chest. 

I gripped the sheet, nails digging in. “Mr. Caldwell,” 

I said, forcing a smile, “I’ve been married six years. 

I’ve only slept with one man. Whose child do your 

think it is?” 

He didn’t answer. He took a half–step back. 

That half–step made my eyes sting. 

The door opened. Serena stood there with a fruit 

basket, her smile warm and proper. But her gaze 

flickered when it fell on the space between Finn 

and me. 

“Finn, I heard Miss Vance woke up. I came to see 

how she’s doing.” 

Finn looked at her. Said nothing. 

The air in the room was a tight wire. 

I settled against my pillow and almost laughed. 

She really was dedicated to this “first love” act- 

following me to the hospital when I fainted, 

visiting when I woke. 

“Miss Shaw is so thoughtful,” I said, my voice still 

raspy. “I’m fine. Just pregnant.” 

Her smile froze for one second. 

“Pregnant?” She turned to Finn, her voice 

feather–light. “Finn, you’re… going to be a father?” 

Finn finally spoke, flat: “Mm.” 

One word. 

Serena’s fingers whitened on the basket. 

Finn’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen, 

frowned, and stepped out. 

Just the two of us. Serena came to the bedside, 

set down the basket, and leaned close to my ear. 

Her voice was a whisper, like a snake’s tongue. 

“So what if you’re pregnant? He doesn’t remember 

loving you. He’s only staying because of the child.” 

I gripped the sheet. 

“Miss Shaw,” I said, turning my face toward her, 

also dropping my voice, “Fletcher already told me 

about your affair back then.” 

Her back stiffened. The color drained from her 

face. 

Footsteps approached. She bit her lip, backed 

away to the window, and arranged a stiff smile. 

Finn walked in carrying a thermos. “I had the kitchen make soup.” 

He set it on the nightstand, clumsy–took him two 

tries to get the lid off. 

Serena smiled tightly. “Finn, let me help take care of Miss Vance. You’ve been busy all day. You 

should rest.” 

He handed me the bowl without turning. “No. You 

go home first.” 

Her lashes fluttered. “Finn…” 

“I’ll reach out later.” 

His tone wasn’t sharp, but it was final. 

Serena bit her lip, grabbed her bag, and left–her 

heels rapid and hard on the floor. 

As the door closed, I saw her shoulders slump. 

I drank the soup. It was perfect–rich enough to 

melt my tongue. 

Finn sat by the bed and was quiet for a long time. 

“I’ll take you back to the villa,” he said. “It’s not safe 

for you to live alone.” 

I set the bowl down. “No. It’s one month until the 

final papers. When it’s done, it’s done.” 

“You’re pregnant.” 

“It’s your child–of course you have responsibility.” 

I looked up at him. “But after it’s born, custody 

goes to me.” 

Finn’s eyes shot up. 

He stared at me, jaw tight, throat working. 

“… You’re set on this?” 

“Mr. Caldwell,” I smiled, putting the bowl back on 

the nightstand. “You’re the one who wanted the 

divorce.” 

His lips parted. No words came. 

Through the window, dusk settled. Wind slipped through the crack, carrying autumn chill. 

I lay back down, turned away from him. 

Tears slid into the pillow. Silent. 

I didn’t want him to see. 

Fletcher burst in that evening, carrying bags of 

stuff–bone broth, collagen supplements, folic acid, maternity formula–piling the nightstand 

high. 

“Tessa!” His eyes were red as a rabbit’s. “You’re pregnant?? I’m going to be an uncle?!” 

He shook me so hard I went dizzy. “Easy–I’m 

fragile now.” 

He dropped his hands, stepped back, stood 

straight. 

“I’m gonna be Uncle Fletcher…” He muttered, then spun on Finn. “Finn–did you remember? Why else would you bring her to the hospital?” 

Finn leaned against the window, eyes lowered. 

“No.” 

“Then why are you being so good to her?” 

Silence. 

I watched the tight line of his lips and felt that little 

flame inside me sink lower. 

He hadn’t remembered. He was doing this for the 

child. 

Fletcher kept at it: “Finn, did you read the diary? 

The one I left in your study! Flip through it–you’ll 

see how hard you pursued her-” 

“Fletcher.” Finn cut him off. “Go home.” 

Fletcher blinked, looked at me, looked at his 

brother, then shuffled out. At the door, he turned: 

“Tessa, don’t give up on my brother–his head still 

isn’t right!” 

The door closed. 

Just us again. 

Finn walked over, tucked the blanket corners 

around me, his touch light. 

“Sleep.” 

I closed my eyes. 

That night, I tossed till dawn. Never fell asleep. 

He didn’t leave either. 

As the sky lightened, half–asleep, I felt someone 

take my hand. Warm. Dry. Those same defined 

knuckles. 

Held tight–like he was afraid I’d run.