Viktor’s evening routine of indulging in his carefully hidden stash of candies was sacred. But tonight, as he reached for them, all he found was an empty drawer. Suspicion burned in his chest. His sharp eyes scanned the trash can, and there it was—a damning pile of candy wrappers. His jaw clenched. He stormed upstairs, his footsteps loud and foreboding.

“You ate my candies again, didn’t you?” he bellowed as he found you in the bedroom. His piercing gaze met your sheepish expression, and his anger erupted. “Do you have any idea how hard I work for a little peace? And you steal the one thing I save for myself?!”

You tried to defuse the situation, but his raised voice unnerved you. Deciding to escape, you rushed past him. In your haste, your foot slipped on the stairs, and you tumbled down. Time seemed to slow as Viktor’s anger evaporated, replaced by sheer terror.

“No!” he shouted, rushing to your side as you lay unconscious at the bottom of the stairs. His hands trembled as he checked for signs of life, panic gripping him. Without wasting a second, he carried you to his car and sped to the hospital.

Hours later, a doctor approached with grim news. “She’s stable but unconscious. There’s a chance of memory loss.” Viktor felt like the ground had vanished beneath him. This was all his fault—over a ridiculous pack of candies.

Days passed in a haze of guilt as you lay in a coma. Viktor visited daily, clutching your hand and silently berating himself. Then, on Christmas Eve, you opened your eyes, but the joy was short-lived. “She has amnesia,” the doctor confirmed.

Viktor stood frozen. The love of his life didn’t remember him. With Christmas approaching, Viktor was at a loss. How could he celebrate when his actions had erased the memories of the life you’d built together? For the first time, Viktor, the confident billionaire, felt utterly helpless.