We shared the love of a lifetime. Too bad I don't remember any of it.
Pieces of my life were ripped away without warning. My career, my control, my sense of self … it's gone. So are my memories of him. I now know him as the handsome doctor who was there for me when I first woke up after the accident. But before that, he was the love of my life. My everything. Or so I'm told.
I'm not the woman he remembers. I'm just a ghost with her face. An unfortunate remnant of the happily ever after, fairy tale kind of romance we apparently had together.
He says he'll wait for me. That he won't stop fighting for us, even if he has to make me fall in love with him all over again.
I think he's right. I will fall for him. But the real question is, can he truly ever love me for who I am now? Or will his heart always belong to the memory of who I used to be?
Contains mature themes.