You woke up and didn’t recognize anything. You stared at the pastel blue walls and cringed. Whoever thought this was fashionable really needed to get their eyes checked out. Draped over the chair next to you was a fur coat that you sincerely prayed wasn’t yours. You wouldn’t be caught dead wearing it. You glanced around, and memory (or what remained of yours) told you that this was definitely a hospital. And so you screamed.

            Nurses and doctors ran in to check on you and you pointed at the IV still attached to your arm. “Who am I? Why am I here? What is this?”

            The head doctor, you assumed, looked at you kindly. “Miss, I’m afraid you’ve lost your memory. It’s a side effect of the accident you had, and we’re monitoring brain motion activity to see if there’s anything we can do to help them back.”

            “What accident?” There was no way. You were just shopping for the newest accessory bag. There was no cause for an accident.

            The doctor hesitated. “You were actually getting ready to leave from your honeymoon, and you wandered out by mistake and were hit by an incoming driver.”

            One word stuck out in your mind and you felt your whole world explode. Honeymoon? You were married?

            “So who’s my husband?” Please let him be hot.

            The doctor opened his mouth to answer and that was when the door opened once more. “Sorry I’m late. I just heard that you woke up.”

            The man by the door was kind-looking. He had a warm smile on his face and a very, finely structured nose. You recognized him. You had most definitely seen him before because bells were soaring in your head. “Husband!” you ventured.

            His face froze. “H-husband?” And that was when you knew you made a mistake.

            “Not my husband?” you squeaked.

            The doctor shook his head. “He’s the kind sir who brought you in actually. Your husband apparently had taken the earlier flight back and we’re currently trying to locate him.”

            You were indignant. “He left me on our honeymoon? What type of jerk is he?”

            There was a soft chuckle and you glanced at your apparent knight in shining armor. When he caught you looking, he straightened. “Sorry.”

            “Don’t be. I want to have all of you sit down and tell me everything.”

            The doctor glanced at his nurses. “Well, I’ll leave Mr. Moon with you to explain.”

            The man by the door, Mr. Moon you supposed, smiled and walked to the chair. “May I?” At your permissive nod, he sat down. “Well, this will be interesting.”

            “I know you,” you blurted out. You were still unable to shake off the feeling that you definitely have seen him before.

            He looked confused. “But we’ve never met before. Well we have but that part of your memory is apparently gone. You shouldn’t know who I am.”

            “Mr. Moon, I hate to be rude-”

            “Call me Jongup please.”

            “Okay, Jongup, I don’t mean to be rude but I’m a lady who’s lost her memory and if I say I’ve seen you, I most definitely have.”

            There was a bemused look on his face as he slowly gave in. “Alright. Let’s say you have. We’ll work on how later. But from what I’ve gathered, your husband went back on an earlier flight due to an emergency at work, and you were leaving the villa when you were hit. I saw you lying on the roadside and by then it’s been nearly half an hour. There weren’t severe injuries but you did hit your head particularly hard.”

            You stared at him in wonder. “Wow, I really have a jerk of a husband.”

            Jongup smiled. “Excuse me?”

            “How can he let work drag him away on his honeymoon of all places? I hope we find him soon so I can give him an earful.”

            “Well, I hope so too.”

            He stayed with you the rest of the night as you rambled and discovered little things about yourself you didn’t know now. Even though you put on a brave smile, inside, you still stared at Jongup and wondered how you possibly could know him. Logically, it didn’t make sense. But there was something comforting about his presence that made you trust him. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was trust and not recognition.

            That night, you dreamed of the two of you walking down the aisle and you jolted awake. Could he be your husband? That would be a lame trick to play on you, you groused. If he really were your husband, he better show up tomorrow and expect a punch in the face. But when you fell back asleep, you still dreamed of him and you woke up with a smile.

            “Morning.” Jongup smiled at you and you remembered your dream.

            You recoiled your fist, ready to strike, when he held up a photo. “We located your husband!” That made you think twice.

            “How?” you asked dumbly.

            “We asked the hotel manager and we also traced several airplane flights. Aren’t you excited? He’s coming today.”

            The truth was you weren’t. There was a heavy disappointment that weighed down on you and you smiled a little sadly. Why wasn’t he Jongup? But then you shook your head. You were being irrational. You really only have known him for one day. You must have known your husband forever to love him and get married right? And so you let yourself stop thinking about the stupid fantasy you had. It was the after effects of the accident, you told yourself.

            Fast forward three years. Your memories haven’t come back fully, but you already made your decision. Three weeks ago, you finally signed the divorce papers. You remembered that the reason why your husband had left early was because you had found out he was cheating on you. He still was, but five mistresses later. You had managed to get your degree and were working as a quite successful manager at a fashion store. Even without all your memories intact, you were happy.

            The door opened and the twinkling alarms sounded. You glanced up. Your heart expanded and you once more saw the trivial fantasies of three years ago flash through your head. “Jongup!” you called out.

            When he looked up, you finally understood. Of course you would know who he was even without having met him. That was what a soul mate was, wasn’t it? And when you saw the large smile he returned to you, you stepped to him, determined to see if your theory was right, and prepared to create new memories. 

sorry this one seemed so rushed. it's both the hazard of the oneshot nature... maybe one day I will come expand on it

But I hope everyone likes it ^^ 

It's inspired by Sophie Kinsella's Remember Me? I figured so many losing memory stories are too cliched, so I decided to change the plot a bit