Ava walked into the hospital, unaware of the storm waiting inside. She pushed open the door to Adam's ward and froze—Daphne and Dawn were standing there, their faces pale and stunned. Then her eyes landed on Adam. He was awake.
She gasped and rushed forward, words tumbling out in a rush. "Oh my God, I'm so happy you're awake! Are you okay?" she asked, tears filling her eyes.
"Yes… I'm okay," Adam replied weakly, his voice rough. Ava smiled with relief, but when she turned to Daphne and Dawn, their expressions didn't match hers. They looked… terrified.
"Why are you both staring like that? What happened? Do you want to speak with Adam in private?" Ava asked, her voice confused.
Then Adam's voice broke the air like glass. "Ava… who is she?"
Ava blinked. "Who is who?" she asked, frowning.
"Who is Mom with, and why is she here?" Adam's tone was serious, his brows furrowed, and everyone went silent. He wasn't joking. His eyes held nothing; no trace of recognition, not even confusion. Just emptiness.
"She's Dawn. Dawn Collins, your ..." Ava started to say, but Daphne quickly stopped her.
"No, don't. Don't force him to remember. Let the doctors handle this," Daphne said firmly, shooting Dawn a look that begged her to hold it together.
Just then, the doctor stepped quietly into the room, clipboard in hand. "Can I have a word with you all, please?" he said gently.
The three women followed him into the hallway, their footsteps soft but heavy, the air thick with fear.
Once they stopped, the doctor sighed. "Adam's awake, but he's showing signs of partial memory loss," he explained. "He remembers his past, his family, his life before the accident but he doesn't seem to recall recent events or certain people."
Dawn's stomach twisted. "What… what are you saying, doctor?" she asked, barely breathing.
The doctor looked at her sadly. "He doesn't remember you, Mrs. Dawn Manchester. To him, you don't exist."
Ava gasped softly, her hand flying to her mouth. Daphne's shoulders dropped. "Will he ever remember?" she asked quietly.
"There's a chance," the doctor said. "But he needs time and peace. Don't push him or try to remind him. Stress or emotional triggers might worsen his condition. Just… let him heal naturally."
Ava nodded, voice trembling. "I understand."
The doctor gave a faint smile before leaving them standing there, frozen.
Dawn's legs felt weak. Her chest tightened as she turned to look through the glass window. Adam was sitting up now, talking to a nurse. Then Ava walked in, and his face lit up instantly; bright, warm, familiar.
Dawn looked away quickly. Her throat burned.
He was alive… but he didn't remember her.
The man who once swore forever now looked at her like a stranger.
Her heart sank deep, deeper than words could reach. Daphne tried to speak, but Dawn couldn't hear her. Just the loud thumping of her own heart; fast, painful, endless. She turned and walked out of the hospital, eyes full of tears, soul empty.
* * * * * *
Ava sat beside Adam later, watching him. He kept asking who Dawn was, but Ava barely heard him. Her mind was spinning with guilt. She remembered what she'd said to Dawn before. How she wished Adam could forget her forever. And now, it was happening.
"Are you okay?" Adam's voice pulled her back.
"Adam… who am I?" she asked softly.
He blinked. "You're my wife," he said without hesitation.
"Do you… have another wife?" she asked again.
He frowned slightly. "No, I don't remember having another."
Ava's throat went dry. "And who do you live with?"
"Just you and Mom. Ava, what's going on?"
"It's nothing," she forced a smile. "The doctor said you hit your head, so I just wanted to be sure you remember us."
Adam smiled faintly. "Don't worry, Ava. I could never forget you."
Ava smiled too, but her chest ached. She wanted to hold onto that moment forever, but she couldn't. She stood up quietly. "I'll be right back," she said and walked out, her eyes wet.
* * * * * *
When Dawn got home, her eyes were swollen and red from crying. Her siblings ran to her, trying to comfort her, but she couldn't even form words. She just sat there, staring blankly at the wall.
A few minutes later, Ava arrived and saw her like that. Leslie and Jason hurried to ask what happened, but Ava didn't tell them. "I need to talk to Dawn. Please, go upstairs," she said softly.
They nodded and left. Ava sat beside Dawn.
"Hey," she whispered. "I know it hurts right now, and you're broken, but you need to stay strong ... for Adam, for your siblings. His memory loss is temporary, okay? Don't lose hope."
"I—I don't know what to do," Dawn stammered. "How do I live when the person I love doesn't even know I exist?"
"Hey, don't say that," Ava said gently. "He's still your husband. You can visit him anytime you want. Don't give up on him."
Dawn looked up finally, tears spilling again. Ava pulled her close, hugging her tight, both of them crying silently.
* * * * * *
Days later, Adam came home with Ava and Daphne. He paused at the door, scanning the house. "It looks… different," he murmured.
"Yeah," Daphne smiled faintly. "I and your father made some changes, remember?"
"Hmm, maybe," Adam said, squinting a little.
"Let's get you upstairs, you need to rest," Ava said softly.
"I'm fine, Ava. It's just a fall," Adam said with a small grin.
"You heard what the doctor said ..."
"I've been resting in the hospital for days. I'm fine," he cut her off, still smiling. Ava sighed and gave up, sitting beside him while he talked and laughed like nothing happened.
She tried to smile back, but inside, she was breaking. She couldn't enjoy this... not when Dawn was hurting.
Dawn came downstairs, her bag in hand. She stopped halfway when she saw them, Adam and Ava sitting close, laughing softly. Her chest clenched painfully. She couldn't take it anymore.
She turned to leave, her siblings following behind with their things. But then Ava looked up and froze when she saw her. The pain in Dawn's eyes hit hard.
Adam noticed Ava's gaze and turned his head toward the stairs.
"Wait," he said slowly, squinting at Dawn. "I… I know you."
The room fell silent.
Ava's heart stopped.
Dawn's eyes widened, hope flickering through her tears.