You wake up in a sterile hospital room, your head pounding, the sterile smell of antiseptic stinging your nose. Your parents sit at the foot of your bed, faces twisted with worry. Beside them, your fiancée, Alex, holds your hand.

"Hey," Alex whispers, his voice trembling. "How are you feeling?"

The doctor enters, explaining that you survived a near-fatal accident, but it left you with amnesia. You can't remember anything—not even the name of the man sitting beside you, holding your hand so gently. His voice cracks as he shows you the engagement ring you don't recognize. "I’m Alex, remember? Your fiancé. "

Tears sting your eyes. Why can’t you remember him? His smile falters, but he nods, squeezing your hand.

Night after night, you dream of a man whose face you can never make out. His voice lingers in your mind

The days pass, and you recover physically. Still, his voice haunts your dreams, a whispering reminder of something lost. Your mind insists that you know him, but you can't recall why.

Then comes the night of the party. Your friends throw a celebration in your honor, a ballroom brimming with laughter and music. Alex, holds your hand as he guides you through the crowd. You smile but feel something missing inside you.

Out of nowhere, a man approaches you, his presence magnetic. He asks for a dance. His touch is electric, familiar—like a melody you’ve always known. As you sway together, his voice sends shivers down your spine.

“One more time,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “I promise after that I’ll let you go.”

The voice, the words—they echo from your dreams.

“Baby, I don’t care if you’ve got him in your heart,” he continues, his hands sliding around your waist. “All I really care is that you wake up in my arms”

His lips brush your ear. “One last time,” he murmurs. “I need to be the one who takes you home”

He smiles softly. “One last time,” he murmurs. “I need to be the one who takes you home.”

It's Ace. The man from your dreams, the one you’ve forgotten, but never really could.