My Amnesiac Husband Asked for Divorce, I Laughed and Walked Away Chapter 07

My Amnesiac Husband Asked for Divorce, I Laughed and Walked Away Chapter 07

Mason’s company was on the fifth floor of an old office building. Small, but flooded with sunlight–a whole wall of windows. 

When I pushed in, he was crouched on the floor adjusting lights. He popped up grinning. “Tessa!” 

I looked around–photos on the walls. Desert. Ocean. City at dawn. Clean composition. Soft light. 

“Did you take these?” 

“Yeah. Since college.” He scratched his head. “I’m just okay. But with you here, we’ll build something great.” 

I stopped at the city–dawn series–one of a food 

cart in the cold blue light, steam rising from the griddle. “This one is really good.” 

Mason leaned in. “You think so too? I waited three 

days for that shot.” 

“The composition breathes.” 

His eyes lit up. “Tessa, you get it!” 

We talked for hours. Aperture. Shutter speed. The golden first three seconds of short video. Staged 

1. documentary. 

I hadn’t talked like this in ages. At Caldwell Corp, 

all anyone discussed was funding, equity, 

quarterly KPIs. 

By the time I got home, evening had fallen. Fletcher was crouched outside my door, clutching 

an old cardboard box. He leaped up when he saw 

1. me. 

“Tessa! Where were you? I waited two hours!” 

“Job interview.” 

His eyes went wide. “You’re looking for a job? You’re not even divorced yet-” 

“Still need to live.” I opened the door and let him in. 

He set the box on the coffee table and pulled the 

lid off with a flourish. 

Inside: a worn leather–bound notebook, edges 

frayed, cover stained with water marks. 

“I found this in my brother’s study. You need to 

read it.” 

I opened it. Finn’s handwriting–neat and elegant. 

[June 12, 2018. Interview. Admin assistant 

position. She wore a bun. White shirt–collar 

washed thin but clean. Resume listed a 

community college degree–I was about to toss it. Then I flipped to the last page. She’d tucked in a 

photo she took. Film. Sunset. Composition was good. I kept her resume.] 

My hand trembled. 

[Aug 3, 2018. Three months in. She brought me coffee–her ears were red. She didn’t know I’d been 

watching her.] 

[Nov 2018. Annual meeting. She was hiding on the terrace crying because someone said she got in through connections. I didn’t go over. But I stood there for an hour. Memorized the way she cried.] 

[Mar 2019. I decided to pursue her. Grandfather’s going to lose it. But I don’t want to wait anymore.] 

[May 12, 2019. First dinner. She ordered the cheapest combo. I added truffle soup, foie gras, wagyu. She snuck looks at the bill–her pained little face was adorable.] 

[July 2019. Her birthday. Booked the whole 

restaurant. She thought it was just a normal date -wore her cheapest dress. But her smile was beautiful. That night, she asked why her. I said- 

because of that sunset photo.] 

I held the diary, tears falling onto the pages. 

Fletcher whispered, “Tessa, my brother does love 

you. He just… lost it all.” 

I closed the diary. Took a breath. 

“I know.” 

What I didn’t know was whether he could find it 

again. 

Tucked in the last page was a photo. My work ID 

photo from onboarding. White shirt. Bun. Smiling, 

eyes crescent–moon. 

On the back, in fresh handwriting–recently 

written: [She doesn’t look like this anymore. But 

when I see this photo, my heart beats.] 

I froze. 

He wrote this after the accident. He’d found this 

photo and written that. 

I looked up at the window–dark now. Across the 

city, a few office lights still burned. 

One of them was Finn’s.