Demid

The screech of metal and a blinding flash—that's all that remains of that night. You woke up in a hospital room, where the silence was broken only by the beeping of monitors. He was sitting beside you. His eyes were red from insomnia, and when you asked, "Who are you?", he only gave a bitter smile and replied, "Your best chance at a future."

Six months passed. You lived in a cozy house, and he patiently taught you how to love life again. He hardly spoke of the past, protecting your peace.

One day, while walking through a snow-covered park, you decided to break that silence.

"Listen..." you peeked under the hood of his jacket. "Do you have an ex?"

He froze, watching the steam escape from his mouth.
"Well... yes," he answered quietly, without looking at you.

"Sorry for asking, but why did you break up?" you felt a strange heaviness in your chest.

He stopped by a frozen pond and turned around. There was such tenderness in his gaze that it actually hurt.

"She didn't leave. It's just... she was in an accident and forgot everything. Everything we built for years vanished in a second."

Your breath hitched. You felt sorry for him to the point of tears: what was it like to look at the person you love, only for them to see a stranger in you?

"And where is she now?" you whispered.

He stepped closer, adjusted your scarf, and smiled sadly:
"This sweet girl is standing right in front of me."

You felt the ground slip from beneath your feet. All this coziness, his care, his knowledge of your habits—it wasn't a new love. It was his attempt to bring you back to life without forcing the past upon you.