Adrian stood frozen as the weight of her words hit him like a hammer to the chest.
"I don't know you."
The doctor inside him knew what it meant. The man inside him refused to believe it.
Sophia stared at him, confused, afraid, shrinking back into the bed as nurses rushed in to stabilize her vitals. She clutched the blanket, as if it could protect her from a life she no longer recognized.
Adrian stepped out of the room, his eyes burning, his chest tight. He leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, burying his face in his hands.
"She doesn't remember me…"
---
Later that night…
Ethan waited by the window. His tiny hands clutched a drawing he'd made—his family: him in the middle, Mommy on one side, Daddy on the other, all holding hands.
The front door opened.
Ethan turned with a smile, "Daddy!"
But Adrian's face was pale, broken.
Ethan's smile faded. "Where's Mommy?"
Adrian knelt and pulled Ethan into his arms. "Mommy had an accident, buddy. She's hurt."
Ethan blinked. "But she's okay… right?"
Adrian hesitated, then softly said, "She forgot us, Ethan… She doesn't remember anything."
There was a silence… then Ethan's small voice whispered, "So… I have to make her remember."
---
Two Days Later
Sophia was discharged into observation care—Adrian's care. He insisted.
The hospital had given up trying to explain things to her. Nothing clicked.
She stepped into her own house like it was a stranger's. Ethan hid behind the doorframe, clutching a stuffed toy.
Adrian gently said, "This is your home. And… that little one is your son."
Sophia blinked rapidly. "I have a son?"
Ethan stepped forward, his voice trembling, "Hi, Mommy… I'm Ethan."
Sophia gave a hesitant smile. "Hi… Ethan."
She didn't remember. Not her name. Not Ethan. Not the man who looked at her like she was his world.
She didn't even remember the woman she used to be.
Adrian stood frozen as the weight of her words hit him like a hammer to the chest.
"I don't know you."
The doctor inside him knew what it meant. The man inside him refused to believe it.
Sophia stared at him, confused, afraid, shrinking back into the bed as nurses rushed in to stabilize her vitals. She clutched the blanket, as if it could protect her from a life she no longer recognized.
Adrian stepped out of the room, his eyes burning, his chest tight. He leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, burying his face in his hands.
"She doesn't remember me…"
---
Later that night…
Ethan waited by the window. His tiny hands clutched a drawing he'd made—his family: him in the middle, Mommy on one side, Daddy on the other, all holding hands.
The front door opened.
Ethan turned with a smile, "Daddy!"
But Adrian's face was pale, broken.
Ethan's smile faded. "Where's Mommy?"
Adrian knelt and pulled Ethan into his arms. "Mommy had an accident, buddy. She's hurt."
Ethan blinked. "But she's okay… right?"
Adrian hesitated, then softly said, "She forgot us, Ethan… She doesn't remember anything."
There was a silence… then Ethan's small voice whispered, "So… I have to make her remember."
---
Two Days Later
Sophia was discharged into observation care—Adrian's care. He insisted.
The hospital had given up trying to explain things to her. Nothing clicked.
She stepped into her own house like it was a stranger's. Ethan hid behind the doorframe, clutching a stuffed toy.
Adrian gently said, "This is your home. And… that little one is your son."
Sophia blinked rapidly. "I have a son?"
Ethan stepped forward, his voice trembling, "Hi, Mommy… I'm Ethan."
Sophia gave a hesitant smile. "Hi… Ethan."
She didn't remember. Not her name. Not Ethan. Not the man who looked at her like she was his world.
She didn't even remember the woman she used to be.