Husband?

“Ava,” he whispered again, his voice soft but urgent. “Can you hear me?”

There was no answer, but her breathing hitched, and her eyelids moved again. The room was so quiet, save for the frantic beeping of the machines, that it felt like the world was holding its breath, waiting.

Then, with a slow, labored effort, Ava’s eyes cracked open.

It was a small victory, but in that sterile, dimly lit room, it felt monumental.

Her gaze was unfocused, her pupils dilated as if she was struggling to make sense of the world around her. She blinked, confusion clouding her features as she looked up at the faces surrounding her.

Nothing made sense.

Dr. Myers let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Ava,” he said softly, leaning closer, “you’re in the hospital. You’ve been in a coma for three years. Can you understand me?”

Ava’s eyes flickered with a brief moment of awareness, but the weight of his words hung heavy in the air, incomprehensible to her in her disoriented state.

Three years. Could it really have been that long?

The machines beeped louder, faster, as the tension in the room reached its peak. Ava’s mind was a whirlwind of confusion, her body weak, and her world had shifted in ways she couldn’t begin to understand.

The long sleep was over, but the nightmare was only beginning.

Ava blinked slowly, her eyes adjusting to the brightness, the fog in her mind slowly beginning to lift. But the clarity brought no comfort.. only confusion and a sense of being lost.

Her body felt foreign, heavy and weak, as if it belonged to someone else.

Everything seemed so distant, and yet painfully real at the same time.

Her last memory was of speeding down a dark road, the sound of tires screeching, the blinding lights of another car... and then nothing.

Now, she was here, in this bed, and the doctor’s words echoed in her ears.

“Three years,” he had said. “You’ve been in a coma for three years.”

The words were too big, too heavy to process. How could it have been three years? She felt like she had been asleep only for a few hours, perhaps days, but not years.

Panic rose inside her, gnawing at her insides, but her body was too weak to respond the way her mind wanted it to. Her heart raced, the machine next to her beeping faster with every second.

Dr. Myers had tried to explain the recovery process.. how her muscles had atrophied, how she would need extensive physical therapy, how memory loss was common in cases like hers.

But she barely heard him. His words were drowned out by the sound of her own thoughts, racing, spiraling into chaos.

She couldn’t remember.

Couldn’t remember anything beyond that last moment on the road.

As the doctor’s voice faded into the background, the door creaked open, and someone else stepped inside.

Ava’s breath caught in her throat as a tall, sharply dressed man entered the room, his presence commanding attention.

He moved with a calm, deliberate grace, his every step measured. The light from the window caught his eyes, a cold, calculating gleam that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Ava,” the man said softly, his voice smooth and unsettlingly calm. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”

She stared at him, her mind scrambling for recognition, but there was none. His face was a blank to her, a stranger’s face.

Yet, something about him, the way he carried himself, the way his eyes seemed to never quite leave her, made her feel as though he wasn’t a stranger at all.. but someone far more dangerous.

Her pulse quickened again, the beeping of the machines growing louder.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, strained and weak.

The man’s lips curled into a small, almost imperceptible smile. “It’s me, Ava. Ethan. Ethan Cole, your husband.”

Husband?

The word hit her like a punch to the gut.

Her eyes widened in shock, her heart pounding in her chest. Husband? This man.. this cold, unnerving stranger.. was claiming to be her husband?

No..

That couldn’t be right.

It didn’t feel right. She searched her fragmented mind, desperate to find some memory, any memory, that would make sense of his words.

But there was nothing.

Just a void, a black hole where her memories should have been.

“I don’t... I don’t remember you,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Ethan stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate, as though he were trying to soothe her.

But there was something in his eyes.. something possessive, predatory.

He was too calm, too in control, and it unnerved her deeply.

“That’s understandable,” he said softly. “You’ve been through a lot. But I’m here now. I’ve always been here. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

He reached out, gently brushing his fingers against her hand, but the touch sent a jolt of unease through her.

It wasn’t comforting.. it felt wrong.

Forced.

His fingers were cold against her skin, his touch more like a claim than a gesture of love.

Ava pulled her hand away, her breath shallow, panic clawing at her throat. “How... how long?” she asked, her voice shaky.

“We’ve been married for four years,” Ethan replied, his tone smooth, too smooth.

He spoke as if this were just a normal conversation, as though everything made perfect sense.

But it didn’t.

Nothing made sense.

Four years.

Married.

It didn’t add up.

She couldn’t remember any of it.. couldn’t remember him. And the more he spoke, the more she felt a growing sense of dread, like a shadow looming over her.

Her instincts screamed at her that something was very, very wrong. But she couldn’t put her finger on it, couldn’t pin down what exactly felt so off about him.

The doctor, standing quietly in the background, cleared his throat. “Mr. Cole has been overseeing your care since the accident. He was the one who admitted you that night.”

The words echoed in her mind. He admitted her? He had been the one to bring her here?

Her eyes flicked back to Ethan, and she saw it again.. that glint in his gaze, a look of ownership, control.

But why? Why did it feel like he was more than just a concerned husband? Why did it feel like he was hiding something beneath that calm exterior?