Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the hospital waiting room seemed to amplify the throbbing in David's temples. He’d seen Sarah every week since the accident, bringing flowers and updates on their shared memories. Now, after her finally waking up, this.

He approached her bed, a bouquet clutched in his shaking hands. "Sarah?" he whispered, his voice catching. She blinked, her gaze unfocused.

"You… you look familiar," she said, her voice raspy. He leaned closer, hope fluttering. "But…" she frowned, "I don't know you."

David's grip on the flowers tightened, the stems digging into his palm. He felt a wave of cold wash over him, leaving him chilled. Her eyes flitted over him, searching but seeing nothing. He opened his mouth, words failing him.

He felt the world tilt, a dizzying spiral of disbelief.