Lin yue's pov
The hospital chapel was almost empty.
I knelt before the silent altar, pressing my trembling hands together. I had never asked for much in my life. Not love. Not happiness. Not even his heart.
But today my voice broke.
"Please… just let him live."
The prayer slipped out like a fragile breath. Tears fell before I could stop them. I didn't ask for him to love me. I didn't ask for our marriage to change.
I only asked for one thing — that he open his eyes.
Because even a life where he never loved me… was still a life where he existed.
Footsteps echoed behind me.
"Family of the patient?"
My heart stopped beating for a moment.
"He's awake."
Hope rose so suddenly it hurt to breathe.
I didn't know yet that when he opened his eyes,
He would wake into a world where I had never existed.
I stood up too quickly, my knees weak from hours of kneeling. For a second, I couldn't move. I was afraid.
Afraid of bad news.
Afraid of hope.
But he was awake.
That was enough.
I walked down the hospital corridor slowly, each step heavier than the last. The white walls felt colder than before. The sound of machines grew louder as I reached his room.
My hand paused on the door.
For one foolish second, I allowed myself to imagine it —
him looking at me softly, maybe differently this time. Maybe the accident would change something. Maybe he would finally see me.
I pushed the door open.
He was sitting up in bed, pale but alive. His dark hair fell over his forehead. His eyes — the same eyes I had loved for one and a half years — lifted toward me.
Relief flooded me so intensely I almost cried.
"You're awake," I whispered.
He studied me.
Not warmly. Not coldly.
Just… carefully.
Like I was a stranger standing in the wrong place.
His brows furrowed slightly.
"Who are you?"
The words were gentle. Polite.
And they shattered me completely.
For a moment, I thought he was joking. I even forced a small smile.
"It's me," I said softly. "I'm—"
But he kept looking at me with confusion.
Real confusion.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Do I know you?"
The machines continued beeping.
The world continued moving.
But inside me, everything stopped.
He hadn't just forgotten our marriage.
He had forgotten his entire life.
And somehow… it hurt less that he didn't
remember loving me.
Because he never had.
But forgetting that I existed at all—
That was something I wasn't prepared for.
I stood beside his bed long enough for the silence to become unbearable.
He waited politely, like he was giving a stranger time to speak.
That hurt more than anything.
"You don't remember me," I said. Not a question. Just a fact we were both learning to live with.
He shook his head slowly.
I looked at our hands — his resting on the blanket, mine trembling beside it.
"My name is…" I paused, then corrected myself softly.
"No… that's not important."
I forced myself to meet his eyes.
" I'm your wife " I said.
" We are married "
" My name is Lin yue "