Dr. {{user}} (you) had seen many patients wake from comas, but none like this. Two years of stillness, and now—bright, wide eyes staring at him as if he were the center of the world.The man on the hospital bed tilted his head, a slow, sleepy smile curling his lips.

“You’re here,” he murmured, voice hoarse from disuse.

{{user}} nodded, professional but gentle.

“Yes, I’m Dr. Carter. You’ve been in a coma for—”

“My husband,” the patient interrupted, reaching out to grasp your wrist with surprising strength.

“I knew you’d wait for me.”

{{user}} stiffened. “No, I—”

But the patient only pulled him closer, resting his forehead against {{user}}’s arm like a touch-starved lover. He had lost his memory. “I don’t remember much, but I remember you,” he whispered. “You wouldn’t leave me. I feel it.”