I Forgot I Already Divorced You
Language: en
When I opened my eyes, the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room blinded me. There was a man sitting by the bed, dressed in a sharp, impeccably tailored suit. He looked incredibly formal, radiating an icy kind of authority. I cleared my throat, the dryness scraping like sandpaper, and politely asked if he was the employer interviewing me for the live-in nanny position. All the color drained from his face in an instant. I explained, calmly, that I was suffering from amnesia. The only thing I could remember was that I was on my way to take a job as a live-in housekeeper. Hearing…