Divorcing My Cold Hearted Celebrity Husband.

Wife. 

He acknowledged me as his better half. His Wife.

Emotions started to clog up my throat, making it harder to breathe. 

Has he recalled all of those memories? The question made me freeze in my position. 

Could it be possible that he just recovered some of the fragments of his memory?. 

To test what extent he had recovered his memory. I couldn't afford to be careless. If he by any chance got triggered by any of my words, then...No, it was a risk which I could not afford to have.

I must ask him some common questions to get an idea or maybe...Another thought hit as a different idea came into my mind. It might not be great, but if approached correctly, then I could get my answers and also he won't get triggered. 

With this, taking a step back, I folded my hands as I stared at him with a stern look. "You say you remembered that I am your wife."

At first, his eyebrows shot up seeing my reaction, but then he also straightened his posture. "Yes, I remembered." He replied curtly and short. 

I internally shook my head in disappointment. Dave always had this habit of replying on the point. Not a word more or less.

I raised my eyebrow in reply as I continued, "Oh yeah? Then tell me on which date we got married?" I tried to keep my voice calm and cool, but inside I was trembling.

In all these years, I never got a chance to have such a conversation. Remembering our anniversary? At that time, he kept himself so busy that he forgot his own birthday.

Now that I had asked him this question, I felt somewhat stupid. He was never good with dates; moreover, if it's related to me or our marriage. I started to change the subject when his voice fell into my ears, making me stunned by his reply.

"On this eighteenth, we will be completing our sixth month. That means, the Eighteenth of February is the day we got married." 

This cannot be true, can it?

I blinked twice, trying to wake up from whatever dream, but no, it was true. 

He remembered? He actually remembered. 

And before I could know it, the thought already slipped off my mouth, "You remembered?" 

Dave's expression changed into a scowl as he did not like the question and the tone in which I asked it. But can he blame me?

After all the cold and distant behaviour he showed towards me, will I expect him to remember the date? 

For me, it was one of the most beautiful dates engraved in my memory, but for him, it was any other day. The date did not have any significance for him.

He lifted his head as he replied with a proud expression, "Of course, as you and everyone know that I am good with dates." 

"No." I spat back, losing my control. I could not help but get irritated by his tone. Though he lost his memories yet the behaviour of his seemed to differ from before.

The confusion mixed with already present grief resulted in anger, and now that anger seemed to reach its limit. 

Who does he think of himself?

One time, he could act all cold and distant, and another time, he would try to get close to me. No.

Even if he lost his memories. He does not have the right to mess with me and my emotions. 

"No?" His voice pulled me back to reality. I looked up at him as his expression went grim.

I almost scoffed at his questioning, but the pain just made me curve my lips into a bitter smile.

"No," I whispered, more to myself than him. Because if you were good with dates, you'd have remembered all the last times I waited all night on our anniversary while you buried yourself in work.

The thought was too truthful to say in his condition, so instead I gulped down all those painful memories, "You did not seem to care much about it, especially when they had to do with me."

At the end, I got too emotional to even look at him and turned, but the next second, he came up to me. Grabbing me by both sides, he turned me to face him.

The movement was rapid, which made me gasp in reaction.

As my gaze moved to his face, I trembled under his touch.

His expression could not be expressed in words. His face didn't show any emotions, but I could see him clenching his jaws as confusion resided in his eyes. 

"You...say, I did not care about you but..." His voice came out shaky as he himself was tackling his emotions, "But why? Why can't I...remember anything? Why?"

At last, his raised voice stirred the whole surrounding. 

Finally, the realization struck me like a lightning bolt. I might have triggered him. 

Never in my life had I seen such a reaction from him. The force with which he grabbed me became unbearable to bear as I winced in pain.

He, too, realized as his hands started to tremble. This made my suspicion grow stronger. I have to divert his mind before he can put more pressurize on his mind. "Look at me, Dave." I instructed as I continued, "Try to focus on me."

He stared at me, but I could feel and see the tension forming on his face. Sweat beads started to slip off his forehead as his breathing started to get shallow.

His brows furrowed as his eyes kept getting close. 

God, he is losing his consciousness.

In that very moment, him getting out of his trance was my only main concern. In that second, all of his rudeness and coldness fade away.

Palming his face, I trailed my fingers over his skin, feeling his hot skin under my cold hands.

I closed my eyes shut, not wanting to see his reaction as I was doing something that I might regret a little...okay, very much.

Before any of us could say something without caring if any old neighbor was watching us, and smashed my lips to his the next second.