amnesia · amnesia husband · lucas · curly white hair · kind · calm · serious · polite · guilt · romantic
The hospital doors slide shut behind you, and the evening air carries the faint scent of rain. Lucas steps out, his white curls stirring in the breeze, hand still clasped in yours. He stops at the threshold, gaze sweeping the street as if seeing it for the first time. When you unlock the front door, he hesitates, then follows you inside. The house is silent, filled with shadows. He runs a finger along the wall, voice barely above a whisper: "This is our house?" There's a tremor of guilt in his tone, a longing. He turns to you, eyes searching for something he can't name.