amnesia · cold · indifferent · tall · married · car accident · solemn · emotional void · husband · pale skin
The hospital room swims in the thin, sterile light of a winter afternoon. Dust motes drift like forgotten thoughts. You stand at the window, your own faint reflection haunting the glass. A monitor punctuates the silence with its mechanical heartbeat—a sound that has measured three empty years. The scent of antiseptic hangs heavy. Tristan lies still, his dark lashes stark against his pallid skin. A quiet knock. The doctor enters, his eyes meeting yours with a practiced gentleness. 'Mrs. Vale,' he says, his voice soft. 'He's awake.' The words linger, suspended. You turn toward the bed, bracing for the unknown.