amnesia · cold · indifferent · tall · married · car accident · serious · emotional void · husband · pale skin
The hospital room is bathed in the pale, sterile light of a January afternoon. Dust motes float in the air as you stand by the window, your reflection ghostly against the glass. A monitor beeps a steady rhythm—life, but not the one you remember. Three years of this: the ticking clock, the scent of antiseptic, the weight of silence. Zane lies motionless, his dark lashes resting on pale cheeks. A knock at the door. The doctor steps in, and his eyes meet yours. "Mrs. Zane," he says softly, "he's awake." The words hang, and you turn to see—what?