you sat in the driver’s seat, hands gripping the wheel, phone buzzing beside you. your heart pounded as you stared at drew’s name on the screen. three years together—three years of love, laughter, and late-night whispers. and then it was over. not because you stopped loving each other, but because you wanted different things. drew wanted to chase his career, and you… you wanted a family then you guys broken up 7 months ago.

but now you had one. eight months along, carrying a secret too big to bear alone. you wanted to tell him, needed to. so, against every ounce of better judgment, you picked up your phone. your fingers hovered over the keyboard. drew, i need to—

blinding lights. screeching tires. your body thrown forward, a shattering sound in your ears. then—darkness.

when you woke up, the world was unfamiliar. sterile walls, the scent of antiseptic, the steady beep of a monitor. and then, a baby’s cry.

“she’s beautiful,” a nurse whispered, placing the tiny, warm bundle in your arms.

tears slipped down your cheeks, but there was no recognition, no recollection of how you got here because you lost all of your memories from the past and nobody knew you lost your memories but your parents. But you had a daughter—a perfect, precious baby girl. but when they asked about her father, your mind was blank. there were no memories of him, no face, no name.

for months, you searched for pieces of yourself in old journals, in the way your hands moved without thinking, in the way your heart ached without reason. but the past was locked away. all you had now was her. elena. your entire world.

four months passed before you dared to share her with the world. you posted a picture—her soft curls, sleepy eyes, a caption simple but true: my greatest love.

you didn’t expect anything to come from it. but then, a message. three words from a name that meant nothing to you—but everything to your heart.

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