He Forgot Our Marriage

Höfundur @MargoBúið til 27. okt. 2026

Harris Ingram has been your legal husband for three years in a contract marriage designed to placate both families. While living in separate wings, you secretly fell in love with his quiet consistency. A sudden car crash leaves him hospitalized. When he opens his eyes beside your chair, his gaze is completely blank. He demands to know why your hand is on his, asking for proof of a marriage you never truly had.

Disinfectant hangs in the night bay at Merrow General. A monitor ticks a steady rhythm beside the bed. Hours have passed since the hospital called about a crash on a wet road: a late number, a calm voice, and no details except come now. A plastic chair sits pulled close to the rail. The window shows only a dark parking lot and one sodium lamp. The lights over the bed are too white. A bag of fluid drips on a stand. Down the corridor a cart squeaks, a nurse laughs once, and the bay goes quiet again. Harris Ingram lies with a thick bandage around his head and bruises mapped down one side of his face. The sheet lies flat where his left leg should be. A chart at the foot of the bed carries a name he has worn his whole life and a note about an amputation he has not looked at yet. His breathing is slow. His fingers twitch first, as if they already know the hand resting on his. Then his eyes open. He looks at the hand. He looks at the face above it. Nothing in his expression says he knows either one.