Enslaved by My Forgotten Wife

‘Scotty, my boy, How the hell did this happen?’ I can’t help but wonder to myself.

My feet pounded the sidewalks of Newbury Street as I sprinted past high-end boutiques and art galleries. The late afternoon sun glinted off polished shop windows, momentarily blinding me as I darted between stunned pedestrians. Behind me, Mia’s enraged shrieks pierced the air.

“You lying, cheating Fuck! I’ll gut you like a fish!”

The clatter of her heels on stone spurred me to run faster, my lungs burning as I gasped for air. I risked a glance back and saw her raven hair streaming behind her, those vivid green eyes I adore now blazing with murderous intent. The gleaming chef’s knife in her hand caught the light, reminding me of how precarious my situation truly was.

‘How is she so fast in heels?’

“I trusted you! How could you do this to me?!” Mia wailed, her voice cracking with anguish and fury.

Confusion twisted in my chest even as I fled for my life. I hadn’t cheated. I would never betray her like that. But how could I convince her when she was in this state? My mind raced, trying to piece together how we’d ended up here.

I weaved through the crowd, muttering apologies as I shoved past people. A street performer’s guitar case went flying as I barreled through, sending coins scattering across the sidewalk.

“Stop that man!” Mia screamed. “He’s a filthy cheater!”

Horrified gasps and muttered condemnations followed in my wake. I felt my cheeks burn with shame despite my innocence. This was it. The end of everything. My relationship, my reputation, maybe even my life if I couldn’t outrun Mia’s rage.

Yet, as my feet carried me ever onward, I felt oddly calm. Resigned, perhaps. I’d lost the love of my life due to a misunderstanding I couldn’t even begin to fathom. All I could do now was run and hope for a chance to explain myself before that knife found its mark.

Suddenly, a skyscraper from a few blocks away erupts in a cacophony of shattering glass and twisting metal. My eyes widen in disbelief as an 18-wheeler blasts through the building, soaring over ten stories in the air. The massive truck tears through concrete and steel beams as if they were paper, leaving a gaping wound in the tower’s facade.

I stop in my tracks, completely blown away by the surreal sight. The truck’s horn blares, a ghostly wail that seems to stretch on forever as it arcs through the sky. Debris rains down on the streets below, a deadly shower of glass and twisted metal.

“What the fuck,” I breathe, my voice barely a whisper.

In that moment of distraction, a searing pain erupts between my shoulder blades. Mia’s knife finds its mark, and I stumble forward, somehow ending up on my back as I fall. The world spins, the blue sky above marred by billowing smoke from the damaged skyscraper.

“Wait,” I gasp, struggling to form words as the pain overwhelms me. “I didn’t—”

“You bastard!” Mia screams, her voice raw with emotion. “How could you?!”

The knife plunges into my chest again and again. Each stab sends shockwaves of agony through my body. I cry out, my vision blurring as blood soaks my shirt.

“I loved you!” she wails, bringing the blade down once more. “I gave you everything!”

The pain is overwhelming and consuming. I can barely breathe, barely think. The world narrows to Mia’s anguished face and the burning fire spreading through my torso.

Finally, mercifully, she stops. The knife clatters to the ground beside me. Mia’s shoulders heave with sobs as she collapses onto my chest. Her tears mingle with my blood, warm droplets falling onto my face.

With tremendous effort, I lift a shaking hand to cup her cheek. Her skin is feverishly hot against my rapidly cooling palm.

“But I really didn’t cheat,” I rasp, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t lie! I saw you flirting with the baker down the street!.” Mia yells at me. Her Green eyes radiate raw disgust as she does.

I try to chuckle, but it comes out as more of a wet cough. “That’s on me. I was at the bakery... buying you a cake. For your birthday tomorrow.”

“What?” she says again, surprise evident in her voice. Her brow furrows as she processes my words.

I struggle to keep my eyes open, to hold onto consciousness for just a moment longer. The pain is fading now, replaced by a creeping numbness. Not a good sign.

“Wanted to surprise you,” I murmur. “Guess that backfired, huh?”

As the world fades to black, Mia’s eyes widen in horror. “Oh my God,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the chaos surrounding us. “I completely forgot tomorrow was my birthday.”

The realization hits her like a physical blow, and she crumples further onto my chest, her body wracked with sobs. The knife lies forgotten beside us, its blade glinting wickedly in the fading sunlight.

My vision blurs, the edges growing dark as I struggle to hold onto consciousness. The pain has faded to a dull throb, my body growing numb and cold. In the distance, I can hear sirens wailing and the sounds of emergency vehicles racing towards the devastation caused by the flying truck. Shouts and screams fill the air, a cacophony of panic and confusion.

As my life ebbs away on the blood-stained sidewalk of Newbury Street, a wry smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. In my fading thoughts, I can’t help but reflect on the absurd tragedy of it all.

‘This was pretty much how it was always going to end for me,’ I think to myself, a bubble of hysterical laughter threatening to burst from my lips. I can’t help it. I just absolutely love crazy girls.’

As darkness closes in, I summon the last of my strength to whisper, “Happy birthday, Mia. Sorry, I won’t be there to celebrate.”

My hand falls away from Mia’s face, too weak to maintain its grip. The last thing I see before the curtain falls is her beautiful, tear-stained face, those green eyes I adore now filled with a lifetime of regret.

And then, mercifully, everything fades to black.

*****

I jolt awake with a gasp, my heart pounding as if I’ve just run a marathon. The last thing I remember is... pain. Lots of pain. And Mia’s tear-stained face.

‘But why does it feel like that was decades ago.’

My eyes dart around, trying to make sense of my surroundings. I’m lying in a massive bed, ornately carved wood gleaming in the soft light. The ceiling above me is domed, painted with intricate celestial designs that seem to shimmer and move.

“What the...” I mutter, pushing myself up on my elbows.

That’s when I noticed the woman. She’s curled against my side, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist. Long, raven-black hair cascades over her shoulders, and when she looks up at me, I’m struck by the intensity of her crimson eyes.

“Uhh...” is all I manage to say, eloquent as ever.

The woman’s eyes widen in surprise, and she sits up abruptly. “Saber? You’re finally awake?”

I blink at her, confusion swirling in my mind. “Saber?”

Her delicate brow furrows, and she reaches out to touch something around my neck. I flinch instinctively, my hand flying up to feel a smooth, cool band encircling my throat.

‘A collar?’

“What the fuck?” I mutter, tugging at the thing. It doesn’t budge.

The woman watches me intently, her head tilted to one side. “You’ve been asleep for so long, my love. Perhaps your memories are still... adjusting.”

I shake my head, trying to clear the fog from my brain. “Look, I don’t know who you are or where I am, but this is definitely some kind of mistake. The last thing I remember is...” I trail off, the almost ancient memory of Mia’s knife flashing through my mind.

The woman’s expression softens, and she reaches out to cup my cheek. Her touch is surprisingly gentle. “It’s alright, Saber. You’re safe now.”

I pull away from her touch, my eyes darting around the room again. That’s when I noticed the windows. Or rather, what’s beyond them.

My jaw drops.

Outside, fluffy white clouds drift by lazily. But we’re not looking down on them from a skyscraper or airplane. No, we seem to be drifting through them. The ‘room’ I’m in isn’t a room at all, it’s a cabin. On a boat. A wooden boat that’s somehow sailing through the sky.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck.” I breathe, stumbling out of the bed on shaky legs. I press my face against the glass, watching in awe as we glide in the sky over the ocean.

I stumble back from the window, my head spinning. The woman watches me with a mix of concern and fascination, her crimson eyes never leaving my face.

“What the fuck is going on?” I demand, my voice cracking.

She rises from the bed, her movements graceful and fluid. A shimmering nightgown clings to her curves, the fabric seeming to shift and change colors like an oil slick in sunlight.

“Saber, honey,” she coos, her voice as smooth as velvet. “Come back to bed. You’re still disoriented from your long sleep.”

I eye her warily but find myself drawn to the bed. My legs felt weak, and I practically collapsed onto the plush mattress. The woman sits beside me, close enough that I can smell her intoxicating scent. Something floral and exotic that I can’t quite place.

“Where am I?” I ask.

She cups my face in her hands, her touch cool against my flushed skin. Her crimson eyes bore into mine, and I felt a strange pulling sensation in my chest as if she was tugging on invisible strings connected to my heart.

“My dear Saber,” she murmurs, her thumb tracing my cheekbone. “You’ve been through something tragic. Your mind is still healing, still piecing itself back together.”

I swallow hard, fighting against the fog that seems to be creeping into my brain. “What happened?”

The woman’s eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “You don’t remember me at all, do you? I am Vallenora Darkmoon, Duchess of Veilaris. And I’m your wife, my love. We’ve been married for two blissful years.”

“What?” I jerk back, breaking her hold on my face. “That’s impossible. I was just in Boston. I was with...” I trail off, the name suddenly escaping me.

Vallenora reaches out, gently taking my hand in hers. “Boss ton?” She speaks as if she’s never heard of it.

Vallenora’s crimson eyes bore into mine, a mix of confusion and concern swirling in their depths. “Saber, just relax and come lay with me,” she says, her voice as smooth as silk. Her words feel as though they’re almost laced with something occult like.

I feel a strange tugging sensation in my chest, as if invisible strings are pulling me towards her. The collar around my neck seems to hum, a subtle vibration that sends tingles down my spine. Part of me wants to resist, to demand more answers, but I find myself moving closer to her almost against my will. At the same time, I can’t deny that I want to be near her, to breathe in her intoxicating scent and feel the warmth of her body against mine.

‘Something about her is just my type. I can just feel it in my bones. This woman is giving me huge demented vibes.’

As I settle beside her on the plush bed, I try to clear the fog from my mind. “Vallenora,” I say, the name feeling completely foreign on my tongue, “can you please just call me Scott?”

She tilts her head, a delicate furrow appearing between her brows. “But your name is Saber,” she replies, genuine bewilderment in her voice.

I shake my head, frustrated by the confusion swirling in my mind. “I don’t know what I told you in the past, but that is assuredly not my name.”

Vallenora stares at me intently, her crimson eyes narrowing as if she’s trying to solve a complex puzzle. The air between us seems to crackle with an unseen energy, and I can’t shake the feeling that she’s desperately searching for a way to maintain control of the situation.

Finally, she speaks a melodic whisper. “Well, my love, you were truly a man of mystery when we first met. Perhaps this is simply another facet of your enigmatic nature revealing itself.”

I can’t help but snort at that, the sound jarringly out of place in the ethereal cabin. “That doesn’t sound like me at all. I’m an open book, always have been.”

Vallenora’s expression shifts to a mix of amusement and something darker flashing across her features. “Is that so?” she purrs, leaning in close. Her breath is warm against my ear as she continues, “Then perhaps, my darling, you’ve been hiding your true nature even from yourself all this time.”

I shiver involuntarily, torn between the urge to lean into her touch and the nagging feeling that something is very, very wrong here. The collar around my neck seems to tighten, a subtle reminder of my strange predicament.

“Regardless,” Vallenora says, pulling back slightly to meet my gaze, “I will try to call my beloved husband of two years by this new name if it pleases you.” Her tone is light and almost playful, but there’s an underlying current of steel that tells me this concession doesn’t come easily to her.

“Thank you,” I reply, relief washing over me. It’s a small victory, but it feels significant somehow. “I appreciate that, Vallenora.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Of course, my love. Anything for you.”