Elara's eyes fluttered open, her mind sluggish, her body heavy. A strange numbness lingered in her limbs, as if she had been asleep for far too long. The air around her felt cold, sterile, wrong. She blinked, trying to adjust to the dim lighting, but as her vision cleared, she realized she wasn't in a room.
She was outside. The familiar sights of the place she and Jian often met surrounded her, the green house in the distance, the trees swaying gently in the breeze, the soft rustling of leaves. But everything felt distant, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Her gaze shifted, and the first thing she saw was him. Jian stood before her, arms crossed, watching her with that same unreadable expression.
"You woke up," he said, his voice calm but distant.
Elara's breath caught in her chest. Something was wrong, her mind felt foggy, like a memory just out of reach, slipping through her fingers the more she tried to grasp it.
"Jian?" Her voice came out hoarse. "What happened?"
His answer was immediate, smooth—almost too smooth. "Nothing happened." His tone was steady, too calm, as if trying to convince both of them. "You were just tired. You lost consciousness."
Elara's eyes dropped to herself, looking at her hands, her body, trying to understand why everything felt so foreign. She ran her fingers across her arms, a chill spreading across her skin. The air around her seemed wrong, too still.
Then, just as her thoughts began to unravel, a voice broke the silence. It was small, high-pitched, cutting through the stillness.
"Mom!"
Elara's head snapped to the side. Through the trees in the distance, where the forest began, a small girl appeared. The child—no older than three, ran toward her, her little legs moving desperately. She reached Elara in seconds and clung to her legs, her tiny arms wrapping tightly around them as she cried.
"Mommy!" the girl sobbed, her voice thick with fear and desperation.
Elara's chest tightened. Mommy? She looked down at the child, confusion washing over her.The word hit her like a wave, Who is this little girl? Her mind screamed for answers, but there was nothing. The girl's sobs echoed through her, her small hands gripping her as if she were the only thing keeping her together.
Before Elara could respond, a man appeared from behind the trees, rushing toward them with a sense of urgency. He moved swiftly, his face full of relief when he reached them. Without hesitation, he reached out and gently pulled the girl away from Elara, scooping her into his arms. He then turned his gaze to Elara, a deep sigh escaping his lips.
"Thank God you're okay," the man said, his voice shaky with a mix of relief and emotion. "I was so scared."
His words hung in the air, but Elara was too lost in confusion to process them fully. She looked at the man with a blank expression, her chest tightening further.
"You… you're...?" She whispered, still unsure. Why do I feel like I should know you?
The man, sensed her hesitation and stepped closer, his eyes filled with worry and something more, something desperate. "Elara... It's me, Lucas. Your husband. And this is our daughter, Eva."
Lucas… Eva? The names echoed in her head, but they sounded strange, as if they didn't belong to her. Her heart raced in her chest as she tried to place them, to recall the life they claimed to share, but it all felt too distant.
The man, Lucas, looked at Jian with a mixture of confusion and concern. His eyes narrowed as he stepped forward, still holding Eva in his arms.
"Who are you?" he asked sharply. "What happened to my wife?"
Jian's gaze remained steady, his expression unreadable. "I found her unconscious," he said calmly, his voice unwavering. "But she will be okay. You don't need to worry."
Lucas exhaled, his body sagging with relief, but there was still a trace of unease in his eyes as he looked between Elara and Jian. "Thank you for staying with her," he said, his tone softer now. "You don't know how much this means to me." He shifted Eva in his arms and glanced at Elara. "Come on, Elara. Let's go home."
Elara stood still, her heart racing as she turned her gaze to Jian. His eyes locked with hers, his expression gentle but firm, as if silently urging her to trust him. She hesitated for a moment, the weight of everything pressing down on her, but the fog in her mind and the confusion clouding her thoughts made it difficult to find her way.
She glanced back at Lucas, then at Eva, whose tear-streaked face was looking at her with desperate hope. Home , the word echoed in her mind. She felt the tug of something familiar, something that pulled at her, but it was faint, like an echo from a distant past.
Finally, with a deep, reluctant breath, Elara gave a small nod. Jian's expression softened ever so slightly, as if he'd expected this decision but still, a part of him seemed to ache for her.
"Alright," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. "I'll go with you."
The exhaustion, the overwhelming confusion, the need for something stable, something familiar, won out. She just wanted to rest—to escape the weight of the questions that filled her mind.
Lucas's face softened with relief as he extended his hand toward her. "Let's get you home," he said gently.
As Elara took a step forward, she caught one last glance at Jian. His eyes held a mix of concern and something more, something unspoken. She wanted to ask him what was real, but the words lodged in her throat. Instead, she turned away and followed Lucas, the path ahead uncertain but unavoidable.
With each step she took toward the unknown, her heart felt heavier, but she couldn't bring herself to look back. The whispers of what she might have lost lingered in the back of her mind, but for now, she had to believe that she was doing the right thing.
As they walked away, Jian stood there, watching her retreating figure, his gaze locked on her with a quiet, sorrowful understanding.
As they reached their home, the familiar warmth of the house wrapped around Elara like a fragile comfort. She stepped inside, the soft hum of the city's distant noise muted by the walls of her home. Lucas helped her inside, gently guiding her as they crossed the threshold.
The living room was quiet, with only the soft glow of a lamp casting a gentle light. Eva, exhausted from the events of the day, was asleep on the sofa, her small body curled up in Elara's lap. The dried tears on Eva's cheeks only deepened the ache Elara felt in her chest. She instinctively ran her fingers through the girl's hair, a strange sense of protectiveness flooding her. The child felt so familiar, yet foreign, like a distant memory she couldn't quite recall.
Lucas moved around the kitchen, the clinking of utensils and the soft hiss of a pan filling the air. He glanced back at Elara, his expression soft but filled with worry. He had always been the one to care for her, to make sure she was taken care of, and yet now it seemed like he was doing so out of a place of uncertainty, not entirely sure of what had happened to his wife. He was cooking something simple, but his movements were quick and purposeful, trying to keep his mind busy.
Elara's mind wandered, her gaze never leaving Eva. She couldn't shake the feeling that she knew the little girl , knew her in a way that went beyond the present moment. Her heart felt heavy, and no matter how hard she tried, the connection she felt to Eva remained elusive, slipping through her fingers each time she tried to grasp it.
Lucas walked over to her after a few minutes, placing a plate of food on the small table beside the sofa. His eyes held a mix of concern and something else, something deeper. "You're quiet tonight," he remarked softly, sitting beside her on the couch, though careful not to disturb Eva's peaceful slumber. He gently reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from Elara's face.
Elara's voice was soft, tinged with confusion. "I don't… I don't remember how I got here, Lucas." Her eyes drifted back to Eva. "And I don't remember her either. Why do I feel like I should know her?"
Lucas paused, his brow furrowing in concern. "It's okay," he said, his voice steady but with an underlying sadness. "You've been through a lot today, and I know it's hard to remember everything right now. I won't push you. Just rest, Elara. We'll get through this." He hesitated, then added, " I know you don't feel like yourself. But you're home now. And that's what matters."
Elara nodded quietly, feeling the weight of his words sink in, but still unable to shake the strange sense of displacement she felt. Her head was full of questions, each one more confusing than the last. She looked at Lucas, a faint smile tugging at her lips, but it was distant, as though it didn't quite belong to her.
Later, as they settled in, Lucas shared a piece of news. "Tomorrow, my friends are coming over," he said, trying to brighten the mood. "They're excited to see you back. We'll have dinner together, and it will be a celebration of your return."
Elara's heart fluttered at the thought of interacting with strangers. The idea of being surrounded by people she didn't remember felt unsettling, but there was also a part of her that longed for something familiar, something to ground her in this new reality she found herself in. "Okay," she said quietly. "That sounds nice."
She glanced once more at Eva, her small chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath. The child's presence seemed to comfort her, even though the uncertainty swirled around her like a storm. Lucas, sensing her thoughts, placed a hand on her shoulder. "Everything will be okay, Elara," he said softly.
But deep inside, Elara wasn't so sure. She longed to remember, to understand what had happened, but for now, all she could do was hold on to the present, to the pieces of life that seemed to slip through her fingers like sand. And in the stillness of the room, she wished she could reach out and pull the answers from the dark corners of her mind. But all she could do was wait.
The next day passed peacefully, a gentle calm settling over the house. For the first time since she had returned, Elara felt a strange sense of comfort, not complete, but enough to ease the lingering unease in her chest.
To be continue ...