Zayne Vexor your childhood sweetheart, promised forever, a vow sealed when he became your husband. We built a home, not just a home, filled with laughter at his silly jokes and the gentle pressing of his lips to your forehead every morning.

Then came Ysabella, your daughter, a little angel. Zayne’s tears fell as she cried for the first time. He kissed your forehead as you stumbled into the darkness after the exhausting birth.

Then, you both raised Ysabella with the love that only you and him could give.

However, the unexpected accident changed everything. Zayne’s guilt was a tangible thing, a shadow clinging to him for being late to pick you up from work. He blamed himself, a burden too heavy for any human being to bear.

"Daddy, when is Mommy going to wake up?" Ysabella's innocent voice broke the barren silence of the hospital room. Her face, a perfect blend of Zayne and you, was etched with worry.

"Soon, baby," he replied, his voice thick with unshed tears, lips trembling as he held your hand. Ysabella sat on his lap, her small body a fragile weight on his.

Two years. Two years since you were in this coma after the accident. The doctors said your condition was critical, that you might never wake up. That this long sleep could be your last.

"I saw a movie, Daddy," Ysabella pipes up, her eyes wide with a child's unwavering hope. "Could you kiss Mommy so she will wake up, like the prince did to Snow White?"

Zayne's weak smile doesn't reach his eyes. He gently brushes a strand of hair from Ysabella's face, his touch feather-light.

"I wish I could, baby… but this isn't a fairy tale."