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.

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

as

of water. As I did, a wave of dizziness washed over me, leaving me feeling disoriented and off balance.

you,” I murmured, handing back the empty glass. “I’m sorry, but I still don’t

where

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 town. It’s a quiet place, perfect for

recuperating.”

How did I end up here? And who was this man standing before me, tending to my needs with such care and

tell me your name?” I asked tentatively, hoping for some shred of

but feel a wave of confusion wash over me. His words seemed to echo in the empty recesses of my mind, but they failed to stir any sense of recognition

tinged with frustration. “I

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said softly, though the strain in his voice was

me feel 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

things, I felt more and more alone. It was like I was stuck in a bad dream, with people around me who

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 harder for me to understand what was

here,” I said softly, though the words felt hollow and insincere. “I just hope

my dear,” he replied, his voice gentle and reassuring. “We’ll get through this together. And

I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at the edges

a puzzle

I pushed aside my

that my name was Dylan. Though I still don’t recognize the sound of my own name, I tried to be

of my shattered memory. But the more I searched,

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voice called out, sending

bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about the mysterious figure in my dreams. The voice echoed in my head, stirring up memories I

I heard that voice before. It felt like it

beyond my fractured

it just my mind playing tricks on me? I couldn’t be sure, but I knew one thing: I needed to find out the truth.

T

more than kind enough to stay in another room. Despite him introducing himself as my husband, he’s nothing but a stranger to me without my memory. Although I felt guilty, I don’t think it’s fair if we shared the same room

sense of frustration and despair. It was as if I were trapped in a maze with no way out, stumbling blindly through the corridors of my own mind in search of an exit that seemed to recede further with

I decided to go outside and walk around the area, hoping

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

looked surprised, like she recognized me. I couldn’t place her face or name, which left me feeling confused. Was she a

by the door, watching them talk, feeling unsure about the situation. It felt like there was something hidden beneath the

off quickly once they noticed me, as if they were trying to avoid being caught in the act. It left me with a sense of unease, like there was something they didn’t want

questions than answers. I turned to Grant

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