Close enough to touch.
Close enough to shatter.
His eyes searched every inch of her face, desperate—almost frantic—for some sign.
Anything.
A twitch.
A smile.
Recognition.
But instead, he saw her flinch. So slight most people wouldn’t notice. Rafael did. And it nearly killed him.
A painful lump rose in his throat as he gently slid one arm behind her shoulders, helping her sit up slowly. Her muscles were weak after three weeks of complete bed rest; her body trembled with the effort.
“Easy…” His voice came out rougher than intended. “Don’t rush.”
He adjusted the pillows behind her carefully, his touch feather-light, as though he feared she might disappear if he held on too tightly. When she was finally settled, he crouched beside the bed so their eyes were level.
His hands clenched at his sides. “How are you feeling?”
Beneath his voice was damned guilt.
Amara didn’t answer. She just looked at him. Studying him with a strange, unsettling intensity, as though trying to solve a puzzle she couldn’t remember starting. Her brows pulled together slightly. Her gaze moved across his face.
His eyes.
His scar.
His jaw.
His hands.
Like she was searching for something.
A memory.
A feeling.
A reason.
And finding…
Nothing.
When she finally spoke, her voice came out dry and barely above a whisper. “…Do I know you?”
One of the nurses stopped moving. The doctor glanced sharply toward Rafael. And Rafael, felt something inside him snap. The doctor stepped forward gently.
“Mrs. De Luca, my name is Dr. Mehta.” He kept his tone calm, measured. “You’ve been unconscious for three weeks after a severe traumatic injury. Sometimes after prolonged unconsciousness—especially when the brain has experienced swelling or trauma—memory can be affected.”
Amara blinked slowly, trying to process the words. Her fingers tightened around the hospital blanket. Then her eyes moved back to Rafael. This time with visible uncertainty. Almost fear.
“Who…” Her throat bobbed. “Who are you?”
Rafael forgot how to breathe. His lips parted. Closed. Opened again. But no words came.
