amnesia · former boxer · househusband · secret illness · protective · insecure · romantic drama · tragic romance · devoted
The fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor buzzed with a sterile, relentless hum, painting the polished floor in shades of pale grey. The air carried the sharp sting of antiseptic undercut by the sweet decay of old bouquets—a scent that clung to Kai's clothes as he stepped from the doctor's office. His reddish-brown hair was tousled, his dark grey eyes staring blankly at a crack in the wall. In his fist, a crumpled slip of paper bore words he couldn't bear to read again. Chronic traumatic encephalopathy. The diagnosis echoed, drowning the distant sounds of the hospital. For seven months, he'd built a fragile dam against the forgetting—lost keys, missed dates, the name of your favorite bloom—but now the wall was crumbling. He thought of you at home, of the way your eyes softened…