Amnesia Helped Me Dump the Jerk

I woke up in the hospital, and a man in a sharp suit was sitting by my bed.

I asked politely, Excuse me, sir, am I here to interview for a nanny position at your home?

His face went pale. What did you say?

I got a bit nervous. I'm sorry, I've lost my memory. I only remember that I was supposed to go work as a live-in nanny for a family...

He grabbed my hand, trembling, but I instinctively pulled away. "Sir, please control yourself."

After returning to the villa, everyone looked at me strangely.

I worked diligently, waking up at five every morning to make breakfast for Mr. Vincent and Miss Willow.

The way she looked at me changed from smug to uneasy.

Mr. Vincent's son cried and hugged me. I awkwardly pushed him away. "Ethan, nannies can't have physical contact with their employers like this."

He cried even harder.

Mr. Vincent often stared at me. I thought he was dissatisfied with my work, so I worked even harder.

One night, I brought a late-night snack to the study and heard him on the phone.

"Doctor, when will she recover her memory? I can't take this anymore..."

His voice was choked with tears. "She used to love me so much, but now she treats me like a stranger..."

I froze outside the door.

I got up at five as usual.

Before the car accident, I remembered I was working as a nanny for a wealthy family, cooking and taking care of this father and son every day.

Since I'd been discharged from the hospital, I still needed to do my job properly.

I tiptoed downstairs. The kitchen lights were still off.

I opened the fridge and saw it packed with ingredients.

I took out eggs, tomatoes, and bacon, planning to make simple sandwiches.

While I was frying eggs, I heard footsteps behind me.

I turned around. Mr. Vincent was standing in the kitchen doorway, his eyes red, like he hadn't slept all night.

"Mr. Vincent, you're up so early?" I asked politely.

He stared at me and let out a cold laugh.

"Nice act," he said.

I was confused. "What?"

He walked over. "You think getting into a car accident and pretending to have amnesia is a way to start over?"

I had no idea what he was talking about. "Mr. Vincent, I really do have amnesia..."

"Cut the crap." He interrupted me, his tone especially cold. "You were demanding a divorce before, and now today you're saying you're the nanny?"

His attitude scared me, and I took a step back.

He continued, "You want sympathy, right? You want me to feel guilty, want Ethan to feel sorry for you?"

"I didn't..."

"Whether you did or not, I know." He looked at me coldly. "Sophia, you've used a lot of tactics, but this one is too crude."

I opened my mouth, not knowing what to say.

The sandwiches were done. I cut them into three portions and arranged them on the dining table.

Mr. Vincent sat in the main seat, not even glancing at the breakfast I'd made.

"Your breakfasts used to be elaborate," he said. "And now it's just this?"

I nervously wrung my hands. "I... I only know how to make these..."

"Keep acting." He took a bite of the sandwich and put it down. "Even the taste has changed."

I didn't know how to explain.

Just then, crying came from upstairs. Ethan had woken up.

I rushed upstairs and pushed open the children's room door.

Ethan was sitting on the bed. When he saw me, tears immediately fell.

"Mommy..." he cried.

I crouched down. "Ethan, what's wrong?"

He froze for a moment, then cried even harder. "You don't recognize me anymore?"

I didn't know what to say, so I could only gently pat his back.

Mr. Vincent came upstairs too, standing in the doorway with a cold expression.

"Stop acting," he said. "Ethan, ignore her. She's putting on a show."

Ethan looked up at his father, then at me, and cried even louder.

I stood up and said awkwardly, "Then... I'll go downstairs first."

"Stop." Mr. Vincent called out to me. "Where are you sleeping?"

"The nanny's room."

He sneered. "Really getting into character."

I kept my head down, not daring to look at him.

"Whatever." He said. "But don't think this will make me soften."

During breakfast, the atmosphere was especially oppressive.

Ethan kept staring at me, tears dripping down.

Mr. Vincent didn't even glance at me.

After I saw they'd finished eating, I carefully spoke up.

"Mr. Vincent, I'd like to ask, what's my salary?"

He looked up at me, his eyes like he was looking at a stranger.

"Salary?" He repeated the word and laughed. "Sophia, you really are expanding my understanding."

I was completely confused by what he said.

"Forget it, act however you want to act." He stood up. "But don't expect me to play along."

Then he left.

Ethan also ran upstairs, leaving me sitting alone in the dining room.

I looked at the table full of breakfast, suddenly feeling especially lost.

Is this father and son pair sick or something?

Over the next few days, Mr. Vincent's attitude toward me got colder and colder.

I didn't care. I was just a nannydo my job well and that's it, whatever he does is his business.

I'd save some money and then quit.

At noon, I started making lunch.

Ethan was playing with toys in the living room. When he saw me, he turned his head away and ignored me.

Willow was sitting on the sofa and smiled at me. "Sophia, need any help?"

I shook my head. "No, thank you, Miss Willow."

She smiled and didn't say anything.

Lunch was ready. I brought it to the table.

Shrimp pizza and a plate of vegetables.

Ethan glanced at it and pouted.

Willow served him food. "Ethan, eat more."

"Auntie Willow's cooking tastes better," he said quietly.

I stood to the side, a bit awkward.

Mr. Vincent came home and saw the food on the table, frowning.

"Just this?"

I nodded. "Yes... yes."

He sneered and sat down to eat.

Ethan took two bites of pizza and suddenly clutched his stomach.

"Ethan?" Willow quickly asked.

His face turned especially red, and a rash broke out on his neck.

Mr. Vincent's expression changed instantly. He picked him up and rushed out. "To the hospital!"

I panicked too and ran out after them.

In the car, Mr. Vincent drove extremely fast, his face ashen.

I sat in the back seat, watching Ethan in pain, my heart clenching.

At the hospital, the doctor gave Ethan a shot and confirmed it was a shrimp allergy.

Mr. Vincent turned to look at me, his eyes especially cold.

"You gave him shrimp?"

I froze. "I... I didn't know Ethan was allergic..."

"You didn't know?" He sneered. "You're his mother. How could you not know?"

His tone scared me. "But... I really don't remember..."

"Still acting." He cut me off. "Sophia, you think I don't know what you're thinking?"

"You just want to use this to get revenge on me, right? Want to make me feel guilty?"

I shook my head. "I didn't..."

"Enough." He turned and went into the hospital room, leaving me standing alone in the corridor.

Willow came over and sighed softly.

"Sophia, I know you're hurting inside," she said. "But doing this... is it really good?"

I didn't understand what she meant.

She continued, "Using this method to try to win Vincent back will only make him more disgusted."

I was stunned. "I'm not trying to win him back..."

"You don't need to explain to me." She smiled and said softly, "Sophia, I advise you to give up. Vincent has already given up on you. No matter how much you act, it's useless."

Then she went into the hospital room.

I stood in the corridor, my mind blank.

I had no idea what she was talking about.

When I got home, I searched my own name online.

The first news article that came up was: "Lancaster Group Heiress Marries Poor Boy, Seven Years Later Marriage Reportedly on the Rocks."

I clicked on it.

The article said that Sophia Lancaster was the only daughter of the Lancaster Group. Seven years ago, against her family's wishes, she married Vincent Hayes, who was just an ordinary employee at the time.

After marriage, she quit her position as vice president to be a full-time housewife.

Vincent relied on his father-in-law's connections, and his business grew bigger and bigger.

Three years ago, Sophia's parents died, and she inherited a large fortune.

Recently there were rumors that their marriage was in crisis.

I read these news articles, completely dumbfounded.

My first reaction was that this Sophia was way too naiveso rich and she married a gold digger!

Vincent hired a new chef, a middle-aged woman who was especially polite to me.

"Mrs. Hayes, what would you like to eat?" she asked.

I was taken aback. "I... I'm not Mrs. Hayes."

"She likes to pretend to be the nanny now," Willow said with a smile. "Just call her Miss Sophia."

The chef looked confused but nodded.

Ethan had been avoiding me these past few days.

Once I tried to hand him a toy, and he threw it on the floor.

"I don't want you to touch it!" he shouted.

Mr. Vincent watched from the side, sneered, and said nothing.

Today no one was home, so I thought I'd clean the study.

I pushed open the door. The bookshelves inside were full of books and photos.

I took a cloth and started dusting.

Halfway through, I saw a photo.

It was a picture of Willow and Vincent together, both standing by the ocean, smiling happily.

I frowned and kept looking.

There were at least seven or eight photos like this on the bookshelf.

In contrast, there was only one photo of Vincent and Sophia, tucked away in a corner.

I thought to myself, these two definitely have something going on. How did the lady of the house tolerate this?

I was already silently rejecting the idea that I was Sophia. I wasn't that much of a lovesick fool.

While organizing the desk, I saw a notebook in the drawer.

Curious, I took it out and opened it.

The first page had just one line: "Why hasn't he come home yet..."

Flipping through, it was all this kind of rambling.

"It's 3 AM, I've been waiting in the living room all night."

"Willow came again today. She said she and Vincent are just friends, but why is she living in my house?"

"Ethan said he likes Auntie Willow better. My heart is broken."

Looking at these words, I thoughttormenting yourself like this for a man, why bother?

Might as well be a nannyat least there's a salary.

I kept flipping.

"We fought again today. He said I was being unreasonable."

"I just wanted an explanation. Does that count as being unreasonable?"

"Ethan defended Willow today and said I'm a bad mommy."

"I'm so tired..."

The handwriting got messier and messier. Some places had tear stains.

I flipped to the last page. There was only one sentence: "I want a divorce."

Now that's more like it! This kind of person deserves a divorce!

I casually put the diary away. This crybaby lovesick fool definitely isn't me.

At dinner that night, Ethan kept staring at me.

His eyes were red, like he'd been crying.

"Mommy..." he suddenly called out quietly.

I looked up at him.

"Do... do you really not remember me?" he asked, his voice trembling.

I didn't know how to answer.

Mr. Vincent put down his fork and looked at me, a hint of expectation in his eyes.

I opened my mouth and finally nodded.

Ethan cried.

Willow quickly comforted him. "Ethan, sweetie, don't cry..."

I also said, "Ethan, don't you like Auntie Willow the most? Having her here is enough..."

Ethan froze, then ran upstairs crying.

Mr. Vincent stood up and looked at me coldly.

"Have you acted enough?" he said. "Even lying to your own son?"

Then he went upstairs too.

Only Willow and I were left at the dining table.

She sighed. "Sophia, why do this?"

I didn't say anything.

She stood up, walked over to me, and said softly, "You know what? Vincent actually cares about you a lot."

"It's just that what you've done these years has really disappointed him."

She patted my shoulder and went upstairs.

I was a bit helpless. "What's there to act about? He cares about me, but I don't care about him."

These past few days, Mr. Vincent's attitude toward me had softened a little.

He no longer made sarcastic remarks, but he didn't really acknowledge me either.

Just like I really was a nanny.

This morning, Willow suddenly came to find me.

"Sophia, let's talk," she said.

We sat in the living room. She looked a bit nervous.

"Actually... Vincent and I were college sweethearts," she began.

I was taken aback.

She continued, "We dated for three years, then we were forced to break up because our families opposed it."

I didn't say anything, just listened to her continue.

"Five years ago I got divorced and had nowhere to go, so I found Vincent." Her voice was soft. "He took me in and let me live here."

I thought to myself: Here comes the homewrecker's confession.

"You... you're not angry?" she asked cautiously.

I shook my head. "Why would I be angry?"

She froze.

I said, "Miss Willow, your past with Mr. Vincent is your business. I don't remember anything, so there's nothing to be angry about."

Her expression changed. "But... you weren't like this before."

"Before?"

"You used to be really mean to me," she said. "Every time I came, you'd find all kinds of excuses to kick me out."

"You even talked bad about me in front of Ethan, telling him not to play with me."

Her voice sounded a bit aggrieved. "Later he found out I wasn't that kind of person, and he ended up hating you even more."

I sighed inwardly.

The lady of the house really ruined herself...

Talking bad about someone in front of a child, and in the end even her son sided with the other woman.

"That was her being petty," I said. "I wouldn't do that."

Willow looked at me with a complex expression.

Just then, Mr. Vincent came in.

He heard our conversation and stood in the doorway, looking displeased.

"What are you saying?" he asked Willow.

Willow lowered her head, looking like I'd bullied her.

I said, "Miss Willow was just explaining why she moved in before, but I said, I'm just a nannyI don't care about these things."

Mr. Vincent turned to look at me, his eyes complex.

"Do you know what you did before to drive her away?"

I shook my head.

"You flew to her hometown, knelt in front of her parents, and begged them to make her stay away from me."

I was stunned.

He continued, "You came back and cried all night, saying you'd never been so humiliated."

"But the next day, she came back. Because I asked her to come back."

He looked at me, waiting for my reaction.

I felt helpless. This definitely wasn't me! Way too pathetic...

Kneeling and begging people?

Degrading yourself like this for a man?

But I didn't say it out loud, just nodded. "Oh."

Mr. Vincent froze.

"Just... oh?" he asked.

"Yeah." I said. "That was in the past. I don't remember it. Like I said, if you're paying me as a nanny, I'll work as a nanny. If you're not paying me, I'll leave."

Actually, if it weren't for just getting out of the hospital, I would've left already.

He stared at me for a long time, his eyes getting more and more complex.

"You really..." He hesitated.

Willow was also looking at me, her expression a bit panicked.

The atmosphere was especially awkward.

Mr. Vincent suddenly said, "Come with me."

He took me to the study.

Closing the door, he turned to look at me.

"Sophia, what exactly are you thinking?" he asked.

His question left me confused. "I... I'm not thinking anything."

"You heard me say you knelt and begged people, and you had no reaction at all?"

He took a deep breath. "Before, when you heard these things, you'd cry, make a scene, throw things."

"But now you don't even furrow your brow."

I didn't know what to say. Nobody told me being a nanny also meant playing therapist.

He kept staring at me, then suddenly said, "If you really have amnesia..."

He didn't finish.

But I saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

He turned around. "Get out."

I left the study, breathing a sigh of relief.

These past few days, Mr. Vincent's attitude toward me had become even stranger.

He no longer made sarcastic remarks, but instead often stared at me.

As if observing whether I really had amnesia.

Today was the weekend. He said he was taking Ethan to the amusement park.

"You come too," he suddenly said to me.

I was surprised. "I... should I go? You won't deduct it from my pay?"

"No."

Ethan pouted on the side. "I don't want her to come!"

Mr. Vincent frowned. "Ethan."

"She doesn't want to be with me anyway!" Ethan's eyes turned red. "She doesn't care about me at all!"

I stood there, a bit awkward. She really got that right.

Willow quickly said, "Then I'll go with Ethan. Let Sophia rest at home."

Mr. Vincent glanced at me and said nothing.

The three of them left.

I sat in the living room watching TV, feeling pretty relaxed.

At 3 PM, Ethan video called me.

I answered and saw him sitting on a carousel.

"Look, I'm on the carousel!" He smiled happily.

I nodded. "Is it fun?"

"Yeah! Auntie Willow played so many rides with me!"

Willow waved and smiled in the background.

Ethan suddenly said quietly, "I wish Auntie Willow was my mommy."

This kid... really spoiled rotten.

Good thing I don't remember her.

I just smiled. "Then you have to listen to Auntie Willow, okay?"

Ethan froze, like he didn't expect me to say that.

He looked at Mr. Vincent beside him.

Mr. Vincent's face looked terrible.

"You... you're not even angry?" Ethan asked.

"Why would I be angry?" I said. "You can play with whoever you like."

Ethan's tears suddenly fell.

Mr. Vincent took the phone and hung up the video call.

I went back to watching TV.

They came home in the evening.

Ethan was holding a balloon, looking upset, his eyes still red.

Willow was also very quiet.

Only Mr. Vincent kept staring at me.

At dinner, he suddenly said, "Willow took really good care of Ethan today."

He paused. "Unlike some people."

I was drinking soup when I heard this and my hand paused.

Willow quickly said, "Vincent, don't say that..."

"I'm stating facts." He looked at me. "Some people don't even care about their child anymore."

I put down my spoon and said calmly, "Miss Willow is indeed very good."

Mr. Vincent's spoon dropped on the table.

He stared at me, eyes full of disbelief.

"That's your answer?" he asked.

I nodded. "What else?"

He suddenly stood up, the chair scraping with a harsh sound.

"You can stop caring just because you don't remember?" His voice got louder and louder. "Ethan is your son! How can you be so cold?"

Ethan suddenly jumped down from his chair and ran up to me.

"You..." His voice was trembling. "You really don't care about me anymore, do you?"

I didn't speak, afraid of upsetting him.

Tears fell from his eyes. "I said I wish Auntie Willow was my mommy, and you didn't even get angry..."

"Do you wish I wasn't your son?"

I panicked. "That's not what I meant..."

"Then what did you mean?" He cried harder. "You're obviously my mommy, why are you pretending not to know me?"

"Why don't you feel sad when I say things like that?"

He was crying so hard he couldn't catch his breath. When I didn't respond, he ran upstairs by himself.

Mr. Vincent stood there, looking terrible.

"You really..." Mr. Vincent looked at me, his voice trembling slightly. "You really don't care anymore?"

Willow also stood there awkwardly.

They all looked at me. I had to say, "I'm just a nanny. Should I care?"

He suddenly turned and chased after Ethan upstairs.

Crying came from upstairs.

It was Ethan crying, with Mr. Vincent trying to comfort him.

"Ethan, stop crying... Mommy is just sick..."

"But Daddy... the way she looks at me... like I'm a bad kid..."

"No, Mommy loves you very much..."

"Then why isn't she angry? Does she really not want me anymore..."

The child's crying gradually quieted, probably from exhaustion.

I stood downstairs, unable to describe what I was feeling.

A bit uncomfortable, but only a bit.

In the middle of the night, I got up to use the bathroom.

Passing by the master bedroom, I heard sounds inside.

"Doctor, she might really have amnesia..."

It was Mr. Vincent on the phone.

"She has no reaction to Ethan at all... completely unlike how much she used to care..."

"Traumatic amnesia? There's such a thing?"

His voice sounded a bit panicked. "Can she still recover?"

"You're saying... she might never remember?"

"No... that's impossible..." His voice changed. "She can't not remember me... can't stop loving me..."

I stood outside the door, listening to his voice.

Suddenly felt a bit pathetic.

He cared so much about whether I remembered him.

But he never seemed to ask whether I wanted to remember.