The sun rose over Beverly Hills with a deceptive calm — the kind that whispers that something is coming, something powerful enough to splinter the world as it was known. Inside Bill Spencer’s sprawling home, that illusion of peace shattered the moment he opened his eyes. The sterile scent of the hospital still clung to him, but the photographs on the walls told stories his mind could no longer access. A laughing woman. A child. A life that felt like it belonged to someone else.

Katie entered gently, her eyes swollen from days of fear and sleepless nights. She whispered his name with hope trembling in her voice, and Bill stared back with a hollow, haunted confusion.

“Who are you?”

That single question detonated everything.

The car accident had been minor… but what it stole was catastrophic. Bill remembered his empire, his power, his ruthless drive. But when it came to love, his mind had rewound itself a decade, erasing years of growth, heartbreak, reconciliation — and erasing Katie entirely. In the wreckage of his memory stood one bright, burning figure:

Brooke Logan.

The woman who once consumed him.
The woman he lost.
The woman his fractured mind now believed was still his.

Katie tried to reach him, recounting their marriage, their son Will, their history built through agony and healing. But her words slid off him like water over glass.

Then Brooke walked into the room.

And Bill remembered.

Not the present — but the version of Brooke he once adored with reckless, dangerous devotion. Brooke stared at him, stunned, compassion and dread warring in her eyes. She hadn’t expected this. She’d moved on. She’d fought to rebuild trust with Ridge, to escape the gravitational pull of Bill Spencer.

But memory is a powerful ghost.

And Bill saw her not as the woman she had become, but as the one he still believed he loved.

A Past Reborn — and a Present Shattered

Ridge arrived soon after, bristling with protective instinct, but even he could see the raw vulnerability in Bill’s eyes. The man who once tried to steal Brooke wasn’t posturing now — he was lost, disoriented, and emotionally adrift.

But to Ridge, the danger was unmistakable.

Because Bill wasn’t pretending.
Bill wasn’t manipulating.
Bill believed.

And in Brooke’s softening expression, Ridge saw something terrifying — the flicker of old feelings, awakened by a man who remembered her at her most passionate, most alive.

Katie, meanwhile, walked through her own private hell. How do you fault your husband for forgetting you? How do you compete with a memory he can no longer escape?

Every day that passed, the gap widened. Bill sent Brooke flowers. Hand-written notes. Midnight calls. He spoke of the life they once dreamed of, certain fate was returning her to him.

Brooke begged him to stop, but each protest only strengthened his conviction.

Some loves don’t die — they just get buried.

The Proposal That Destroyed Everything

It happened at the Forrester mansion — the gathering Ridge hoped would pull Brooke away from Bill’s orbit.

Bill stormed in wearing a dark suit and a confidence fueled by delusion and destiny. Before anyone could stop him, he dropped to one knee and pulled out the ring — the ring — the symbol of a love Brooke had fought hard to escape.

“Brooke,” he said softly, devotion filling every syllable,
“Marry me. We were meant to have forever.”

Gasps echoed.

Katie staggered back, hand over her mouth, tears already falling.

Ridge’s fists tightened with silent fury.

And Brooke? She froze — caught between the world she’d built and the one she once burned for.