The silence in the hospital room lingered long after Victor Hale's words faded.
She is your wife.
Alexander sat upright against the hospital bed, fingers loosely intertwined, his expression calm but distant — the same composure that made board members tremble and competitors retreat.
But inside, something felt… unsettled.
His gaze drifted back to Elena.
She stood near the window now, her back facing him, shoulders trembling slightly despite her effort to remain composed. The morning light spilled across her figure, illuminating the delicate curve of her neck and the simple silver necklace resting against her skin.
It looked familiar.
Not in memory.
But in feeling.
Alexander frowned.
"Grandfather," he said quietly, "I need clarity."
Victor tapped his cane once against the floor, his weathered eyes sharp.
"You had an accident. Your memory of the last three years is gone."
"That part I understand."
Alexander's gaze shifted back to Elena.
"What I don't understand… is how I ended up married to someone I have no recollection of meeting."
The words were not cruel.
Just factual.
Yet Elena's shoulders stiffened as though struck.
Victor sighed.
"You met her at a charity gala," he said. "Six months later, you married her."
Alexander blinked once.
"That fast?"
Victor chuckled dryly.
"You were never a man who hesitated once you made a decision."
Alexander absorbed that silently.
He studied Elena again — the quiet sadness clinging to her like mist.
No matter how hard he searched, nothing surfaced.
No laughter.
No conversations.
No wedding.
Nothing.
"I'm sorry," he said, voice controlled. "But I cannot accept something I don't remember."
Elena turned then.
Her eyes were red, but her chin remained lifted.
"I'm not asking you to accept it," she said softly.
Her voice surprised him.
Gentle.
Steady.
Stronger than he expected.
"I know you don't remember," she continued. "I know this isn't your fault."
Alexander felt that strange tightness in his chest again.
"Then what do you expect from me?"
The question hung between them.
Elena hesitated.
The truth was… she didn't know.
She had spent two years learning how to love a man who never gave promises easily. Alexander was not romantic, not expressive, not warm in ways most husbands were.
But he was dependable.
Quietly caring.
Present.
And now even that was gone.
"I expect nothing," Elena finally whispered.
Victor frowned.
"Elena—"
She shook her head gently.
"He just woke up. This is overwhelming enough."
Alexander watched her carefully.
No anger.
No accusation.
Only acceptance.
It was… disarming.
A knock interrupted the moment.
The door opened, revealing the attending doctor with a clipboard.
"How are we feeling today, Mr. Hale?"
"Functional," Alexander replied.
The doctor smiled politely.
"That's good. I'd like to run some cognitive checks."
Alexander nodded.
As the doctor began asking questions — dates, names, historical events — Elena quietly moved aside, standing near the wall like an outsider observing someone else's life.
Each correct answer felt like a reminder.
He remembered everything.
Except her.
"…And who is the current CEO of Hale Group?" the doctor asked.
"I am."
"And your marital status?"
The doctor glanced up expectantly.
Alexander paused.
For a fraction of a second, the room felt unbearably still.
"…Uncertain," he answered.
Elena looked down.
Victor sighed.
The doctor scribbled something on the clipboard.
"That's understandable. Memory recovery can vary — sometimes fragments return, sometimes not."
Elena's heart sank.
Sometimes not.
The doctor finished his evaluation and offered a reassuring smile before leaving.
Silence returned once more.
Alexander exhaled slowly.
"I need time," he said.
Elena nodded immediately.
"Of course."
Victor looked between them, displeasure evident but restrained.
"I'll speak with the doctor outside," the old man muttered, exiting the room.
Now they were alone.
Alexander studied Elena openly.
"You're remarkably calm."
She gave a faint smile.
"I'm trying."
"Most people would be angry."
Her eyes softened.
"I was."
Past tense.
Alexander noticed.
"And now?"
Elena looked at him — really looked.
"At some point," she said, "you realize anger won't change reality."
The simplicity of her words unsettled him more than any accusation could have.
He shifted slightly.
"Tell me about our marriage."
Elena's breath caught.
There were a thousand moments she could describe.
The night he stayed up while she had a fever.
The way he silently replaced her broken phone.
The rare smiles meant only for her.
But how did you summarize love to someone who forgot it existed?
"It was quiet," she said finally.
Alexander frowned.
"Quiet?"
She nodded.
"You weren't very expressive. Neither was I. But… it was comfortable."
Comfortable.
The word echoed strangely in his mind.
"Did I love you?"
Elena's composure cracked for the first time.
Her fingers tightened around each other.
"I think," she said carefully, "you were learning to."
Alexander looked away.
Learning to.
Not quite love.
Yet not indifference either.
That ambiguity felt strangely heavy.
Before he could respond, his phone buzzed on the bedside table.
Victor must have brought it earlier.
Alexander picked it up.
Several notifications.
Missed calls.
Messages.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Clara.
A faint flicker of recognition sparked — warm laughter, long conversations, promises unfinished.
Alexander's expression shifted.
Elena noticed.
"Your first love," she said quietly.
Alexander looked at her.
"You know about her?"
Elena gave a small nod.
"Of course."
There was no bitterness in her tone.
That somehow made it worse.
Alexander stared at the message preview.
I'm on my way back. I heard what happened. I need to see you.
Something complicated stirred in his chest.
When he looked up, Elena was already stepping back.
"You should see her," she said.
The words felt like permission.
Like surrender.
Alexander didn't know why that bothered him.
"Elena."
She paused at the door.
"Yes?"
His gaze lingered on her — searching, analyzing, trying to understand the quiet woman who claimed a place in his life that no longer existed.
"I hope," he said slowly, "this situation doesn't hurt you more than necessary."
Elena smiled.
A fragile, heartbreaking smile.
"That ship sailed the moment you forgot me."
And with that—
She walked out of the room.
Leaving Alexander alone with a marriage he couldn't remember…
And a wife he was already losing.