The Double Life of My Billionaire Husband

Reluctantly, Natalie agreed, “Alright, I’ll go see her.”

Brandon held her in his arms, their foreheads touching. “Listen, it’s not your fault,” he whispered with tender compassion.

Ever since Charis died, Natalie had been haunted by nightmares every night. The image of Charis’ unrecognizable face in the heavy snow tormented her relentlessly.

Later that afternoon, Natalie had an appointment with the psychologist, who greeted her warmly. “Just think of me as a friend. Don’t be nervous.”

After chatting for a while, the psychologist identified the source of Natalie’s frequent nightmares. She also recognized that part of Natalie’s psychological pressure stemmed from Brandon.

“How is Mr. Larson doing?” the psychologist inquired gently. “Perhaps both of you should undergo treatment together.”

Excited by the possibility of helping Brandon regain his memory, Natalie felt a glimmer of hope. The psychologist explained that some memory loss could be caused by psychological factors.

Eager to explore this avenue, Natalie proposed the idea to Brandon when she returned home. However, he immediately became resistant, dismissing the suggestion.

“I don’t need it. As long as she can help you, that’s enough. Don’t worry about me,” Brandon retorted, clearly annoyed.

Confused by his strong aversion to psychotherapy, Natalie pressed him for an explanation. She knew him well enough to understand that forcing him into something he had already formed a negative opinion about would be difficult.

which had left a bitter impression on him. It hadn’t been a pleasant

further. Instead, she

a lavish dinner, hoping to entice Brandon. When he saw the table adorned with numerous delicious dishes, he hesitated. He sensed that

feels like we’re

recall those memories she spoke of. Sensing his confusion, Natalie continued, “Brandon, can you please go see the psychologist with me? We’ve been through so much lately. I want us to take a break.

palm, her

side, he felt his dreams were slowly coming true. After contemplating for a while, he finally mustered the courage to say, “Okay.” Natalie was overjoyed, knowing Brandon wouldn’t refuse her. They both

woman on the shoulder and exclaimed, “Elizabeth, it’s really you! What are you doing here?” Elizabeth turned around, surprised to see Natalie. After regaining her composure, she greeted Brandon and Natalie with a hint of shyness.

Despite Elizabeth’s quiet nature, everyone at work found her easy to be around, and she didn’t seem to have any mental issues. Just then, a man approached Elizabeth, dressed in a unique outfit consisting of distressed denim jacket, white turtleneck sweater, tight black jeans, and black

standing here? It’s almost our turn,” the man said to Elizabeth, glancing at Natalie and asking, “Who’s this?” Elizabeth softly replied, “She’s my colleague,” lowering her head. The man sneered and crudely looked Natalie up and down, saying, “How come I never knew you had such a beautiful friend?” He extended his hand to shake Natalie’s, but she instinctively pulled away, uncomfortable

glare and apologized to Natalie, explaining, “I’m sorry. This is my boyfriend, Jorge Anderson.

help nowadays,” she sighed heavily. Brandon held her hand, pulling her closer. He gently stroked her soft hair and said, “Everyone has their own problems. The key is to find meaning in life and live it to the fullest.” Lowering his

his words had touched her deeply. Soon, it was their turn to enter the psychologist’s office. However, instead of asking about Natalie, the psychologist’s

Natalie looked at Brandon. Medication? She had no idea he was taking any. The psychologist noticed her confusion and explained, “I checked Mr. Larson’s medical records and found that he had been taking a lot of painkillers. Such medication can lead to addiction.” Natalie’s eyes widened in shock. What

being cautious enough. He had forgotten to ask Frank to handle his medical records, leading him to provide genuine information to the psychologist. It was evident that the psychologist

Brandon confessed, panic evident in his voice. “Gradually, I felt even worse. Every time I tried to recall the past, I would have a splitting headache that only painkillers could relieve. But don’t worry, I’m not addicted or anything. In