My Fiancé Returned... with His Wife novel Chapter 6

Against the white backdrop, I skillfully pulled out my palette and selected the paints I

needed. With just a few strokes, I outlined the shape of a sunset.

“All done, Sienna! You’re such a great artist. If we didn’t have to put up photos, I’d

want you to paint the whole thing.”

I put away my brushes. “Photos?”

Jessica turned around. “Yeah, pictures of Ethan and me from the past five years.”

She started sticking the photos onto the backdrop. Jessica was the type of person

who made friends easily, or maybe she just wanted to share her happiness with

everyone, so she kept talking about their past five years together.

“This one was taken right after Ethan got out of the hospital. He was so thin but still

so tough. I saved him, and he worked for me to pay off his debt. Honestly, I was the

first one to fall for him. I chased him for two years, and every time he turned me

down, he gave me the same reason.”

Jessica scratched her head. “He said he’d forgotten something really important and

didn’t want to think about anything else until he found it.”

I suddenly remembered what he said when he proposed to me: “Sienna, there’s

something really important I need you to do, and only you can do it.”

“What is it?”

“Be my wife.”

Looking at the person in the photos, my throat tightened. “Did he ever find that

really important thing?”

Jessica shook her head. “No, he doesn’t remember anything. I helped him search

aimlessly for three years. Then, after we went through some tough times together,

he felt sorry for me being an old maid and decided to settle down with me.”

After a long silence, I heard myself say, “I guess it wasn’t that important after all.”

Jessica immediately disagreed, “No, it was really important to Ethan. He hates

hospitals, but he went through three years of treatment, rain or shine, just for that

thing.”

In the photo, Ethan Harris stood by the ocean, sunlight bathing him. He was smiling

recklessly, freely, just like the Ethan I knew at eighteen—arrogant and full of himself,

except when it came to the girl he loved.

I reached out and touched the photo. “Why go through all that? If he forgot, it

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