Chapter:1
The first thing I saw when open my eyes... Was a stranger holding my hand.
The bright white lights above me burned my vision, forcing me blink several times before everything slowly came into focus. My head felt heavy, like something inside it had been forcefully erased.
I tried to move, but even the smallest motion sent a small ache through my body.
And then... I noticed him.
A man sitting beside my hospital bed, his fingers tightly wrapped around mine, as if he was afraid I might disappear.
His eyes were fixed on me.
Relief.Fear.Pain.
All of it reflected in his gaze.
"You are awake..."he whispered, his voice low and filled with emotion.
I frowned slightly, confused. My throat felt dry as I struggled to speak.
"Who...are you?" I asked weakly.
The moment those words left my lips, something in his expression changed.
It was subtle--but I saw it.
Like something inside him had just shattered.
For a second, he didn't say anything. He just kept looking at me, as if hopping I would take those words back.
Then, slowly...he smiled.
But it wasn't a real smile.
"I'm…" he paused, his grip tightening around my hand,
"I'm your husband."
My heart skipped a beat.
My husband?
That didn't make sense.
"I don't… remember you," I said, my voice trembling slightly.
The room suddenly felt colder.
Before he could say anything, the door opened and a doctor walked in, followed by a nurse. After a brief examination, the doctor confirmed it—
Memory loss.
Temporary, he said.
Or maybe not.
I didn't know which was worse.
When they left, silence filled the room again.
I slowly turned my head and looked at the man—my so-called husband.
There was something about him.
Something familiar…
And yet, completely strange.
My heart reacted to his presence.
But my mind rejected him entirely.
"It's okay," he said softly, brushing his thumb gently over my hand.
"You don't have to force yourself to remember."
His voice was calm.
Reassuring.
Almost… too perfect.
Then he leaned a little closer and said,
"I'll stay with you… no matter what."
For some reason—
That didn't comfort me.
It scared me.
Because deep down…
I had a feeling…
He wasn't telling me the truth.
The thought lingered in my mind, growing stronger with every second I looked at him.
I slowly pulled my hand away from his. This time, he didn't stop me.
Instead, he just watched.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Like what?" he replied calmly.
"Like… you're afraid I'll disappear."
For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—something dark, something unreadable. But it vanished just as quickly as it appeared.
"You're overthinking," he said softly.
Maybe I was.
After all, I couldn't remember anything. Not my past. Not my life. Not even him.
But then why did my instincts feel so loud?
"Tell me something," I said, forcing myself to sit up despite the pain. "If you're really my husband… then what's my name?"
He didn't hesitate.
"Ayesha."
The answer came too quickly.
As if he had been waiting for that question.
"And… how did we meet?" I asked.
This time, there was a pause.
Just a second.
But it was enough.
"We met in college," he said. "It was nothing special. You probably won't remember it anyway."
Probably.
The word didn't sit right with me.
I studied his face carefully. He looked composed, confident… almost like he had practiced this.
"Do I have any family?" I asked next.
His jaw tightened slightly.
"No," he said. "It's just me."
Just me.
Why did that sound more like a warning than comfort?
Before I could question him further, the door opened again. A nurse stepped inside, holding a tray of medicines.
"You should rest," she said gently.
I nodded, leaning back against the pillow. My body felt weak, but my mind refused to calm down.
As the nurse adjusted my IV, I noticed something.
The man—my so-called husband—had stepped aside, his expression turning distant.
Almost cold.
Like a completely different person.
When the nurse left, he walked back toward me, his usual calm expression returning as if nothing had changed.
"Get some sleep," he said.
I closed my eyes slowly, pretending to obey.
But I wasn't going to sleep.
Not yet.
Because deep down…
I knew one thing for sure.
I might have lost my memories—
But I hadn't lost my ability to feel danger.
And right now…
The man who claimed to be my husband…
Felt like the biggest danger of all.
My fingers tightened slightly under the blanket as I kept my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep.
I could hear his footsteps.
Slow. Measured.
He was still in the room.
For a moment, there was complete silence.
Then—
"You shouldn't scare her like that."
The voice was low. Cold.
My breath hitched.
He wasn't talking to me.
He was talking to someone else.
But… there was no one else in the room.
I forced myself to stay still, not daring to move.
After a few seconds, he let out a quiet sigh.
"Too early," he murmured. "She's already starting to doubt."
A chill ran down my spine.
Starting to doubt?
So I was right.
Everything he had told me… wasn't the full truth.
I wanted to open my eyes. I wanted to confront him.
But something stopped me.
Fear.
Because right now, pretending felt safer than knowing.
His footsteps grew closer again.
I felt the edge of the bed dip slightly as he sat down.
Then, very gently, his fingers brushed a strand of hair away from my face.
"Don't worry," he whispered softly.
"You'll remember… exactly what I want you to remember."
My heart pounded violently in my chest.
What did that even mean?
And more importantly—
What was he hiding from.
The question echoed in my mind, louder than my own heartbeat.
I wanted to open my eyes.
I wanted to look at him and demand answers.
But I stayed still.
Because something told me… I wasn't ready for the truth.
Not yet.
His presence lingered beside me, quiet and patient. I could feel his gaze on my face, as if he was trying to read my thoughts even in my silence.
Then, after a moment, he spoke again—softly, almost to himself.
"You were never supposed to wake up this soon."
My breath nearly stopped.
What?
The words sent a wave of cold fear through my body.
Never supposed to wake up?
What did that mean?
Was the accident… not just an accident?
My mind raced, trying to connect pieces that didn't exist.
Before I could think further, his phone buzzed.
The sudden sound broke the silence.
He stood up immediately, moving a few steps away before answering it in a low voice.
"I told you not to call me here," he said sharply.
A pause.
Then his tone dropped even lower.
"No… she doesn't remember anything."
Another pause.
And then—
"I'll handle it."
Handle what?
My heart sank.
Because whatever he meant…
It definitely involved me.
"And somehow… the way he looked at me didn't feel like love—it felt like a secret he refused to lose.
But why did my heart still race… as if a part of me already belonged to him?"
"To be continued... The truth is closer than I think."