I wanted a family with Cash. We had dreams –building a house, kids, a dog, and, yes, even the white picket fence.Or so I’m told. I don’t remember anything about my husband. Not the wedding or the vows we shared. The past ten years were erased, but with time, they’re supposed to come back. But what if this isn’t your typical case of amnesia? What if I’m not supposed to remember?What if I was meant … if I’m not supposed to remember?
What if I was meant to forget?
Maybe I don’t want my old life back.
Because if the accident hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have uncovered the truth.
Losing my memory wasn’t tragic.
Losing my memory was fate.
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