He Faked Amnesia to Cheat, So I Erased Him Forever

The man I'd loved for years - my boyfriend - had amnesia. Or so he claimed.

No matter how many times I showed him photos, retold our stories, or begged him to remember, he just stared at me like I was some delusional stranger. Then, everything changed when I overheard that phone call.

"Relax, there's no amnesia. I just wanted to spice things up - watch her squirm while I hook up with other girls."

My stomach dropped. Game over.

When I dumped him, Mark didn't even blink. Of course not - he was still playing his little amnesia charade. "Who are you again?" his expression said.

I was clearing out my things from his apartment when he returned from the hospital with some blonde clinging to his arm. Classic. Couldn't even wait twenty-four hours before replacing me.

"Why are you in my house?" he asked, all wide-eyed innocence.

Before I could respond, Blondie chirped: "She's just grabbing her stuff. You dumped her, remember?"

Mark shrugged. "I don't recall dating her, but whatever. Just don't steal anything." His delivery was flawless - if I hadn't heard that damning call, I might've believed him myself.

The worst part? He could've just broken up with me like a normal person. I wasn't the type to beg. But no - he had to turn it into some twisted performance, making me feel like a bug in his cereal. Disgusting.

As I packed, they played prison guards, monitoring my every move. Then came the real show - hands wandering, lips locking, all the intimate things we used to do, now performed for my benefit. Just like he'd said - he got off on my pain.

My entire life with him fit into one duffel bag. "Want to check it?" I asked, shaking the bag.