dy was healing-slowly-but his mind, that vast labyrinth of memories, refused to cooperate. Mia visited him every day. The first few visits were awkward, laden with the weight of years neit

dding day. Her eyes softened, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something in them. Pain. Regret. Hope. Jack wasn't sure which. "This was the day we were supposed to start our life together," she said quietly, her voice steady but with an edge of something raw beneath it. "The day we promised each other... forever." Jack swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on him. His fingers twitched, wanting to touch the picture, to feel something-anything-that would bring him back to that moment. "I wish I could remember," he said hoarsely, his voice barely a whisper. He didn't know why, but it was important that she understood. "I really do." Mia closed the album gently, as if protecting the memories inside. She stood up, taking a step back from the bed, folding her arms across her chest. Her expression hardened, the soft vulnerability from earlier replaced by something much more guarded. "You're not the man I married anymore, Jack," she said quietly, but firmly. "You're not the man who made those promises." The words struck Jack like a punch to the gut. His chest tightened, a sharp pain seizing his heart. He wanted to argue, to say something, but the truth-whatever it was-was out there, hanging between them. "I'm not who I was before the accident," he replied, his voice tight with the effort to hold back the flood of emotions he couldn't quite understand. "I don't know who I am now. But I'm trying, Mia. I'm trying to remember, to make it right." Mia's eyes softened for a brief moment, and she exhaled slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing, just a fraction. But the distance between them remained. "You were different," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Before the accident. You weren't the man I married anymore. And I don't know if I can go back to that place." The silence that followed was thick, heavy with everything that had been left unsaid. Jack could feel the walls she had built around herself, the space between them that had been growing wider for years, long before the accident. She had moved on. She had to. She had to protect herself. He looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time, Jack saw how much she had changed. How much they both had. Ther