After I got hurt by an accidental blow, I decided to pretend I had amnesia and fleece my archenemy for a fortune.
I opened my eyes and weakly asked, “Who... are you?”
He froze for a second, then his eyes suddenly reddened. “Honey, don't scare me... We've been married for two years.”
Me: ???
Weren't we supposed to be enemies? Why is this guy making things up as he goes?
Even more absurdly, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos. “Look, here's our wedding photo, here's our honeymoon, and here's the scarf you insisted on knitting for me...”
In the pictures, we looked more like a real couple than real couples did.
I gritted my teeth and went along with it. Fine, if it meant getting money, I'd be his wife.
Then one night, I found him in the study, grinning foolishly at that pile of “fake photos.”
And on his computer screen, in plain sight, was the title: “How to Make Your Amnesiac Archenemy Willingly Marry Me: A Practical Guide.”
