One great love. That's what every heart craves. I was lucky enough to find mine when I was 19. But I wouldn't describe myself as lucky now.My husband looks at me like I'm the light of his life. We live in a penthouse apartment that overlooks Central Park. My closet it filled with designer clothes and more pairs of shoes than I can count. I have everything I could possibly want at my fingertips.And I've accomplished my dream of writing a novel. I wrote my love story. Every kiss, every touch, every memory compiled in a manuscript. The pages make my heart ache, my tears flow freely, and my cheeks hurt from laughter. My whole life is written on these pages.I have the perfect husband. The perfect family. The perfect life.But I don't remember any of it.