A Vow Lost to Time

The night I confessed my love to my girlfriend, she wept so hard she could barely breathe. She said she had seen the future, and she wanted to make a promise with me.

I asked her why. She only shook her head and said, "I don't remember… all I know is that in the future I regret something terribly. Frank, no matter what happens, you must give me three chances. Will you?"

I was deeply in love with Agnes Grey, so I agreed without hesitation.

But later, it was as if she had forgotten all about that night—forgotten it when she clung so intimately to her male assistant.

Only then did I understand why she'd made me promise that all those years ago.

Because the moment I signed my name on the divorce papers, I heard a familiar voice. It was Agnes at nineteen.

Through her sobs, she pleaded, "Frank… you promised me, didn't you? You said you'd give me three chances."

Chapter 1

[Frank, I know this must be painful for you. But what Agnes and I have is real. I hope you can find it in yourself to let her be happy.]

The message lit up my phone. It was from Nicholas Morgan, Agnes Grey's assistant.

Aside from that message, the rest were videos and photos.

An impassioned embrace beneath the famed Tower of Love.

Whispers of affection before the murals of one of the most famous museums in the world.

Naked bodies tangled on the sands of a tropical paradise.

And even images of their unrestrained pleasure against a floor-to-ceiling window.

Only in that moment did I fully understand that Agnes was no longer the woman I had once loved.

We had met when we had nothing. For the sake of her acting career, I worked day and night, pouring every cent into her performances and running errands for her film crews.

For seven long years, I toiled until I slept on subway rides home, drank so hard at business parties that my stomach bled. Piece by piece, I built a company from nothing.

And in those same years, Agnes rose to fame, her name celebrated across the nation.

Everything we once dreamed of achieving together—she chose, in the end, to share with her assistant.

I didn't hesitate. I drafted the divorce papers.

Just as I was about to sign my name, a sudden voice echoed at my ear.

"Frank, don't! You promised me, remember? You said you'd give me three chances."

The familiar voice struck me like lightning. My body trembled.

I turned… and there stood Agnes at nineteen, delicate and ethereal, wearing the 30-dollar dress I once bought her with money from a part-time job.

In that dress, she had always been the most beautiful in my memory.

I stared blankly at her apparition, then unexpectedly, I laughed.

"All right. Three chances it is."

At that very moment, my phone rang again.

"Frank! How many times have I told you? Stop picking on Nicholas! He's only my assistant. He's exhausted every day, running around with me from place to place! If you keep this up, forget about that seaside trip I promised you!"

I put the call on speaker. Her furious voice filled the room.

I glanced at the nineteen-year-old Agnes, offering her a gentle smile. Anger flared on her youthful face.

"How can she talk to you like that? How dare she speak to you this way!"

Nineteen-year-old Agnes trembled with fury. But the twenty-seven-year-old version of her was cold as ice.

"Frank, looks like you've grown bold—keeping another woman at your side now. I'll give you half an hour to get to Marlen Tower. If you're not here by then…"

She hung up without finishing.

I muttered, "That's the first chance, Agnes."

Even I wasn't sure if I was speaking to the nineteen-year-old before me, or to myself.

By the time I drove to Marlen Tower, forty minutes had already passed.

Chapter 2

The area around Marlen Tower was swarming with people, traffic clogged in every direction.

By the time I reached the top-floor office that belonged to Agnes, I had barely pushed the door open when her voice rang out, "Frank, I warned you. You had thirty minutes to show up in front of me, and now—"

"Mm." I cut her off with a flat response, turned, and dropped onto the sofa with careless indifference.

Nicholas, her ever-present assistant, was in the office as well. He kept his head bowed, eyes rimmed red, his right hand gripping his left wrist.

My apathy seemed to ignite Agnes's temper. She slammed her palm against the desk.

"Frank, what's with that attitude? You still refuse to admit your mistake?"

But before I could speak, Nicholas beat me to it.

"Agnes, it's nothing, really. Just a watch. Don't blame Frank."

The moment he said that, Agnes's anger only deepened. Yet instead of lashing out at him, she restrained herself, her voice softening as she turned to comfort him.

"How can you say it's nothing? He's so petty that he even tried to snatch the birthday gift I gave you. Don't worry, I won't take his side in this."

Then she swiveled back to me, her tone sharpening like a blade.

"Frank, I'll give you one last chance. Return the watch to Nicholas."

I had lost count of how many times this had happened. No matter how many times Nicholas framed me, no matter how I explained, it never made a difference. The woman who once trusted me unconditionally now only doubted me without question.

I couldn't be bothered to argue. Rising to my feet, I unbuckled the worn watch from my wrist and tossed it lightly to the floor at Nicholas's feet.

That single gesture broke the restraint of both Agness—the one from nineteen, and the one from twenty-seven.

The nineteen-year-old burst into tears. "Frank, please… don't… don't do this."

But the twenty-seven-year-old's eyes blazed red, her fury no longer containable.

"Frank! Do you think I'll tolerate this insolence?"

The watch lying at her feet was the only one I ever owned.

Back then, she had landed her first role. It was just a supporting part, but she was elated for days.

After the filming, she used what little pay she received to buy this watch. It was barely worth two hundred dollars.

From that day forward, I never wore another watch.

I still remember when she ...