I woke up in a hospital room filled with the quiet rhythm of machines and the clean scent of antiseptic. My body ached, but what unsettled me most wasn’t the pain—it was the man sitting beside my bed, holding my hand.
To anyone walking past the door, he looked exactly as expected: tired, worried, devoted. His eyes were red. His voice was soft. He appeared to be a husband who had nearly lost his wife.
But I knew the truth.
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