She walked past him every morning, head bowed, mop in hand. Her uniform was wrinkled, shoes worn, and eyes distant—haunted by a life she couldn't remember.
Ervin Dale Montemayor stood behind his glass wall, watching. Every step she took echoed louder than the last six years of silence between them. Leigh Madrigal.
She had returned—not as his wife, but as a janitor hired through an agency, her surname the same as before they married. Madrigal. The world knew nothing about her; he had kept her existence out of the spotlight. She didn't even know she was once called Montemayor.
After the accident, her aunt took her in—not with care, but cruelty. She was mistreated, burdened, and eventually forced to find a job. That job brought her back to this place—his company. And fate? It brought her back to him.
She didn't recognize him. Didn't flinch when their eyes met. Didn't know he was once her husband.
But she still wore the ring.
It clung to her finger like a ghost of a forgotten promise. She didn't know why she never took it off—just that something about it felt... safe. Familiar. It was the only part of her old life that survived the crash. And the only thing Ervin could not look away from.
He had once believed she was a gold-digger—a wife bought, not loved. A woman who tried to kill him more than once. A woman he verbally tore apart. But even then, he couldn't bring himself to hurt her.
Now, she was here again. Still wearing the ring.
Still bound to a love she couldn't remember.
And he—still bound to a past he never dared to grieve.
His wife.
The one who wore his ring.
The one who didn't even know it ever meant something.