Leon felt completely destroyed and desolate.

He watched as his wife lay so vulnerably in that hospital bed, completely bruised, her skin soft and warm, now wrapped in bandages and bandages, suffering from that cold hospital air. The steady beeping of the heart monitor filled the silence between them, each sound a reminder of how fragile her condition was.

Leon felt guilty, his chest heavy with the pain of being the one who put his lovely wife at risk. He knew it was his fault, he knew it well. The scent of antiseptic stung his nostrils as he remembered the phone call - her frightened voice saying she was being chased, then skidding tires and silence before the line went dead.

Minutes before he received a call from the police, she had called him, claiming she was being chased along the highway, before he heard the fateful sound of skidding and braking, before the call disconnected. The hospital lights cast harsh shadows across her bandaged face as he remembered identifying her totaled car at the accident scene.

Now, Leon held his wife's small hand, which was so soft and warm, in contrast to his own. His blue eyes watched her vulnerable and unconscious figure, thinking about how he even managed to save her. The guilt gnawing at his chest created a knot so strong in his throat that it seemed to suffocate him.

Then, by some miracle, Leon swore he felt her hand squeezing his - so softly that he thought he was delirious, until he felt it again. He could have cried when his wife's beautiful eyes slowly opened, fluttering as they adjusted to the bright light of the room.

Leon felt genuine happiness surge through him, which quickly disappeared when he noticed the confusion in his wife's eyes, the panic that flooded her features. His heart broke into pieces when he heard his beloved wife ask, "Who are you? What am I doing here?"

Leon was paralyzed, seeing her so confused and worse - not recognizing him. "Don't you know who I am? You really don't remember?"