Trapped with My Billionaire Ex-Husband by Mariya Mercedes

Chapter 86

Six months ago…

I slowly opened my eyes, and I was immediately welcomed by an unfamiliar ceiling. I winced in when I felt a throbbing pain in my head. I touched my head and noticed a bandage around my forehead.

I looked around the room that I was in. But nothing about it makes sense.

As I looked around the room, I couldn’t help but admire its fancy décor. The furniture was all elegant, and there were pretty lights shining from the chandeliers. It was all very posh, but it’s something that doesn’t resonate with me. I don’t feel any familiarity around this place.

But even with all the fancy stuff, I felt out of place. The room seemed too big, and the walls felt like they were closing in on me. It was like I’d walked into a whole different world.

I took a careful step forward, the sound of my footsteps echoing on the shiny floor. The room was so quiet, except for the sound of my own movements.

As I looked around more, I felt even more confused. The room seemed to keep changing, like it was playing tricks on me.

With each passing moment, I felt more uneasy. It was like I was lost in a maze with no way out. I opened the door, yet still, the place doesn’t make any sense to me at all. I tried to remember where I was, but the more I tried, the greater the confusion that engulfed my whole body.

As the searing pain shot through my head, I couldn’t help but let out a loud curse. “Damn it!”

“Hey, take it easy. Don’t move around too much,” a voice said from nearby.

I looked up to see a man I didn’t recognize. He seemed to be trying to help me, guiding me back toward the room I had come from.

Who was he? And why couldn’t I remember him? I racked my brain, trying to recall his name, but it was like trying to grasp at smoke. And then it hit me like a cold shower–I couldn’t remember who I was, either.

Panic welled up inside me as I struggled to make sense of what was happening. How could I not remember anything about myself? And why was I in this strange place with a man I didn’t know?

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“Sit down here; I’ll get your medicine,” he said, leading me to the edge of a vast bed with a reassuring smile.

“Uh, excuse me,” I stammered, feeling disoriented. He turned back to me, his expression expectant as he waited for me to speak. “Where am I? And I didn’t mean to be rude, but who are you?”

His features softened, and he approached me with a gentle smile, his eyes filled with warmth.

“We got into an accident while sailing. You were out for a few days,” he explained, his tone gentle but matter–of-

fact.

I tried to process his words, but my mind felt foggy, memories slipping through my grasp like sand through fingers. Frowning, I attempted to recall the events leading up to the accident, but all I could summon was a

sharp, throbbing pain pulsing through my head.

pill and a glass of water. “Here, take this. It’ll help with the

as he watched

As I did, a wave of dizziness washed over me, leaving me

you,” I murmured, handing back the empty glass. “I’m sorry, but I

me where

understandingly. “Don’t worry. It’s okay. The doctor says you might have experienced memory lapses due to a concussion. We’re at my family’s estate on the outskirts of

recuperating.”

deepen my confusion. How did I end up here? And who was this man standing before me, tending to my

I asked tentatively, hoping for some shred of familiarity to cling to amidst the chaos of my fragmented memories.

over me. His words seemed to echo in the empty recesses of my mind, but they

my voice tinged with

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crossing his features before he quickly masked it with a forced smile. “It’s okay,” he said softly, though

any better. If Grant really was my husband, why didn’t I feel close to him? Why didn’t being with him give me that warm feeling of being with someone I

these things, I felt more and more alone. It was like I was stuck in a bad dream,

though I was confused, one thing was certain: I couldn’t trust my own memories. They were like pieces of a broken mirror, showing me only parts of what happened and making it

heavy heart, I turned to Grant, the man who claimed to be my husband, and forced a smile of my own. “Thank you for being here,” I said softly, though the words felt hollow and insincere. “I just hope that with time, my memories will return, and I can truly be

a mix of concern and understanding. “I understand, my dear,” he replied, his voice gentle and reassuring. “We’ll get through this together. And no matter what happens, I’ll be by your

couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that

There was something about Grant’s presence that felt off, like a puzzle piece that didn’t

pushed

the week, I discovered that my name was Dylan. Though I still don’t recognize the sound

more I searched, the more elusive the truth seemed

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haunted my mind. In the darkness, a voice called out, sending shivers down my spine. It spoke a name I

couldn’t stop thinking about the mysterious figure in my dreams. The voice

I heard that voice

my

mind playing tricks on me? I couldn’t be sure, but I knew one thing: I needed to find out the truth. Until I did, I wouldn’t be able

T

stranger to me without my memory. Although I felt guilty, I don’t think it’s fair if we shared the same room while I don’t remember

in a maze with no way out, stumbling blindly through the corridors of my own mind in search of an exit that seemed to

walk around the area, hoping it could juggle

to a woman I can hardly remember. They seemed comfortable together, but something about it made me

me. I couldn’t place her face or name, which left me feeling confused. Was she a friend or someone

watching them talk, feeling unsure about the situation. It felt like there was something hidden beneath the surface, waiting to be discovered.

me, as if they were trying to avoid being caught in the

leaving me standing there with more questions than answers. I turned to Grant for an explanation. “Who was that?” I asked curiously.

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