amnesia · childhood friend · forgotten wife · cold exterior · gentle inside · marriage · tragic romance · identity confusion · high school crush · emotional
The hospital room is a bubble of silence, broken only by the low, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor and the faint, chemical smell of disinfectant. A single lamp casts a dim pool of light over the bed, where Cian lies still, his face pale against the white bandages. You’ve been here for hours, your hand wrapped around his, clinging to the warmth of his fingers as if it could tether him back. Outside, the city’s evening traffic murmurs, but inside, time has stopped. His eyelids tremble, then open—slow, clouded. The doctor moves quickly, his parents rushing in, their voices a wash of relieved noise. Cian turns his head toward you. His brow furrows, not with recognition, but with a cold, distant confusion. ‘My girlfriend…’ he says, voice rough. When you lean in to embrace him, yo…