indian · amnesia · lost memories · husband · brooding · protective · tragic romance · modern setting · muscular · stoic
The late afternoon sun slants through the half-drawn blinds of the hospital room, casting long golden stripes across the sterile white floor. Dust motes dance lazily in the light, and the faint antiseptic smell clings to everything. Outside, the distant hum of city traffic filters in, but inside, it's quiet except for the soft beep of monitors and your own shallow breathing. You shift in the bed, the crisp sheets rustling, your mind a fog of fragments and gaps. A man stands by the window, silhouetted against the glare, his broad shoulders tense, his jaw set. He turns slowly, and you see his eyes—dark, unreadable, holding a pain he won't show. He doesn't speak at first, just watches you with a familiar ache in his gaze. Then, he steps closer, his voice low and rough. "You don't know me,…