Contract Marriage with My Secret Partner in Crime-Chapter 64: Foggy Memory

Zephany stepped down from the stage with her back straight, a quiet confidence settling in after the last note faded.

She didn’t even glance at her uncle’s family seated at the front row, though their eyes burned into her like scorching spotlights.

She had no intention of acknowledging them, not tonight. Not after what they did. Her heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she made her way back to Kendrick.

Applause slowly died down, and as she approached, someone from the crowd suddenly called out, voice laced with awe and realization.

"Zephany Draven..."

There was a short pause, then the voice continued, louder this time, like he wanted everyone to hear. "That’s why her name sounded so familiar. She was that musical prodigy from years ago. She used to dominate the music world, remember? Everyone admired her! But then she just... disappeared. Like she vanished from the face of the Earth."

Gasps and murmurs followed.

"Oh my gosh, I used to have her piano performances downloaded back in college."

"I thought she was studying abroad or something!"

"No, I remember reading a blog post speculating she quit music altogether."

"She was everywhere back then. How could I forget her face?"

Zephany gave a small bow as she neared Kendrick, still flushed from the performance, her breath slightly uneven but her posture composed. Kendrick stood, smiling genuinely as he leaned a little closer.

"That was... incredible," he said softly. "You really are full of surprises."

She gave him a sheepish smile and mumbled, "Thank you," as he gestured for her to sit back down.

There was an odd silence between them, only filled by the ongoing whispers around the hall. Both of them were clearly still stunned.

They had agreed not to pry into each other’s private lives when they entered this contract marriage. It was a simple arrangement—just a year, and then they’d go their separate ways. No questions, no drama. That’s how they had agreed to keep it simple.

But tonight proved that they were anything but simple.

He was once a national martial arts champion.

She was a musical prodigy.

And now they were both sitting beside each other pretending to be an ordinary married couple.

Zephany cleared her throat, then silently pulled out her phone. She tapped something, and Kendrick watched her screen light up.

Suddenly, the large screen at the front of the stage came to life.

People turned toward it as a new video played.

It was split into two frames.

On the left, the footage of her cousin from earlier, performing the same piano melody.

On the right, a grainy but clear video of a young Zephany—long dark hair tied loosely, slender fingers dancing across the keys with precision and emotion. The exact same melody. Every note, every pause, every technique mirrored.

The crowd stirred immediately.

"Wait... it’s the same melody!"

"It’s copied?"

"No way! Look at the hand movements! It’s almost identical."

"She plagiarized it?"

"That’s Zephany’s performance from thirteen years ago! I saw that video before!"

More murmurs erupted, louder this time.

"That girl’s performance from earlier... it’s a replica!"

"So she’s been passing off Zephany’s piece as her own?"

The camera caught the family in the front row—Zephany’s uncle, aunt, and cousin—shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

Her uncle stood, his voice rising above the murmurs. "This video is fake! It’s edited. Someone clearly altered it to make it look the same."

His wife followed. "Yes, exactly! Our daughter composed that piece herself. She’s talented!"

Their daughter, the girl who had performed earlier, looked pale but remained silent, eyes glued to the screen.

Zephany didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to.

Kendrick, meanwhile, couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. His gaze stayed on the right video frame—on Zephany.

With her dark hair, she looked different. More youthful, but the emotion in her playing was unmistakably the same as what he had just seen on stage.

Why did she look familiar?

He frowned slightly, trying to trace the memory.

It was foggy, like trying to recall a dream that faded after waking.

His chest tightened.

Did he... see her before?

He rubbed his thumb against his palm absentmindedly, a habit he picked up whenever something troubled him.

Could it be?

No. He would’ve remembered that face.

Or would he?

Zephany leaned slightly toward him, her voice so soft only he could hear it.

"Should I stop the video?"

Kendrick blinked and turned to her. She was watching him, concern flickering in her eyes.

He shook his head. "No... Let them see it. The truth deserves the light."

She looked surprised by his answer but nodded slowly.

A few rows back, Pia let out a dramatic gasp and murmured to herself, "Oh, this is better than the drama we covered last month. That auntie’s face? Priceless."

Cassius, who was seated just a few seats away from her, smirked, arms folded. "Sophia, remind me to pitch this to the editor as a front-page feature. ’Prodigy Returns, Thieves Deny.’ Catchy, no?"

Sophia rolled her eyes but said, deadpan, "Don’t forget the subtitle. ’Family Feud in F Major.’"

Pia, who overheard it, tried to hold back her laugh and failed.

From the corner, Reynold stood against the wall, arms crossed, expression unreadable. He watched the screen in silence, then slowly turned his gaze to his sister.

Zephany sat still, hands clasped on her lap, head slightly bowed as if she was preparing herself for something worse.

She now hated attention. Hated being the center of it.

And now everyone in this hall knew who she was.

Or who she used to be.

Kendrick leaned a bit closer to her. "You okay?"

She nodded faintly. "I didn’t plan this. I didn’t even want to perform. But... someone sent that video. I think they knew."

Kendrick tilted his head. "Someone?"

Zephany bit her lip. "It doesn’t matter now. What matters is... I didn’t expect any of this."

He gave her a small smile, and something in his gaze softened further. "Well... I didn’t expect my wife to be famous either."

Zephany blinked, clearly flustered. "I’m not—not anymore."

Kendrick chuckled. "Still. You’re not just anyone. And I’m kind of proud."

She looked at him, completely taken aback. The sincerity in his voice left her speechless.

She opened her mouth, then closed it again, unsure how to respond. Her ears burned, and she suddenly felt like hiding under the seat.

He looked amused by her reaction.

"You’re easy to tease," he murmured.

She covered her face with one hand, groaning under her breath, "Please stop."

He laughed quietly.

The screen finally faded to black, and the murmurs died down into silence.

But something had shifted.

People would remember this night.

Not because of the party.

Not because of the decor or the speeches.

But because Zephany Draven, the forgotten prodigy, played again.

And Kendrick, still trying to place that foggy memory, had a gut feeling:

Their pasts were more tangled than either of them realized.

He just didn’t know how true that was—yet.