What Happens At The Ending Of 'The Day I Will Never Forget'?

On the day of my wedding, I was stabbed, left to die... and forgotten. While I bled in my wedding dress, my fiancé married my sister. And my adoptive family, the people who I thought loved me never even looked for me. They all moved on like I never existed. I thought my world had ended. But I refused to stay a victim. Benjamin Grey, CEO of Grey Global found me, saved me, and helped me rise again. When I thought I would get my revenge, I found out that my biological mother who had been missing for fifteen years was alive, and held captive by my adoptive parents. The more I try to find peace, the more trouble comes in. And I wished I had died that day. Maybe death would've been easier than living with everything I now know. Maybe I won't have to face all these traumas. But life had other plans.

After a tragic accident erases her memory of the last five years — including her marriage — a woman wakes up believing she’s still engaged to the man she loved in college… not the husband who would die for her. But what if she fell in love with her husband for a reason she no longer remembers? And what if the truth about their love story is darker than she thinks?

I was ten years old when I lost my hearing saving Adrian Falcone's life. After that, I couldn't survive without my hearing aids. He held my hand afterward, his eyes red-rimmed with guilt, and made me a promise in front of his entire family. "Serena Lombardi, I'll protect you with my life," he said. "I'll marry you." But when I turned eighteen, everything changed. Adrian needed to pass some test set by Daniela Moretti—the daughter of a rival family—and he chose the cruelest way to prove himself. He ripped the hearing aids from my ears in front of everyone and laughed. "You're just a deaf, useless burden," he said, his voice cold and cutting. "I've been sick of you for years. Honestly? I wish you'd died in that explosion when we were ten and saved me the trouble." I gripped the rehabilitation report the doctor had just handed me, and my fingers crushed the paper's edges. The diagnosis was precise—my hearing had fully recovered. That night, I burned my hearing aids and convinced my parents to cut all ties with the Falcone family. Adrian Falcone, we're done. Whatever we had, whatever you owed me—it's over now.

When war broke out in Irestan, my fiancé, Everett Jones, caused a scene at the airport and refused to let the evacuation flight take off. He was determined to wait for his precious first love, Annie Scott, who had taken advantage of the chaos to loot a cosmetics counter for luxury goods. By then, the insurgent forces were already closing in. The shriek of explosions grew louder, drawing nearer by the second. With an entire plane full of people in mortal danger, I had no choice. I knocked Everett unconscious and dragged him aboard. After we returned home, far from the battlefield, we lived a period of quiet, comfortable happiness. I truly believed he had finally put that woman behind him. I was wrong. On our wedding day, he tied me up, drove me away, and deliberately crashed the car, killing me. As my life slipped away, I heard his twisted laughter. "Daniela, you're the one who killed my Annie. Because of you, she was killed by an insurgent missile. "She was just a young girl who liked to look pretty. What was so wrong with that? "This is what you owe her. I'm going to make you suffer far more than she ever did." When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the boarding gate, at the exact moment he blocked the plane. This time, I chose to grant his wish and let him stay behind with his beloved first love, together, forever.

My husband, a military colonel with whom I’d been married for ten years, was barred from entering our son’s funeral wake. Because before our son died, he made three final wishes. The first wish was not to tell his father about his death just yet, as he was afraid the news would upset him. Secondly, to cook his father’s favorite meal and let his father be there for his final birthday. Lastly, if his father were to miss his birthday, then under no circumstances—no matter what—never allow that man to appear before his grave. Even though the man’s eyes were bloodshot and his body was shaking as he cried his heart out in the torrential rain lashing outside the funeral home, I never let the man take a single step toward my son after his death. Three days earlier, after spending a whole night setting fireworks with my childhood friend and her son, Logan Pearce came home with a brand-new schoolbag. That was his idea of making up for missing our son’s birthday. The man frowned, puzzled by the tears in my eyes. “Isn’t it just one birthday? I’ll make it up to him next time, won’t I? Little did he know that our five-year-old son had already died from an asthma attack. The little boy would never live to see the first day of school.

I was three months pregnant when the car crash happened. In those final moments of fading consciousness, I frantically dialed Damian’s private, encrypted line—the one meant only for emergencies. He never picked up. By the time I was rushed into surgery, I received a crushing blow: Damian had forcibly reassigned my lead private physician to the South District. He needed the best doctor to treat his childhood sweetheart, Evelyn, who had just been widowed. When I finally drifted awake through a haze of agony, my trembling fingers swiped open Instagram. I saw Evelyn’s latest post: “I knew that no matter the distance or the time, Damian would move heaven and earth to reach me. He even brought his Chief Physician just to help me heal from my grief.” In the accompanying photo, Damian—a man known for his cold, lethal eyes—was gazing at the woman beside him with a tenderness I hadn't seen in years. While I was clawing my way back from the brink of death, fighting to save our child, my husband was playing protector to another pregnant woman. A hollow, self-deprecating laugh escaped my lips. Without a second thought, I slid the wedding band off my ring finger. I opened my inbox and hit "Confirm" on the invitation from the world’s most elite International Finance Institute. If Evelyn is all he cares about, I’ll give them my blessing. In seven days, I will vanish from his world forever—and I’m taking my baby with me.