My heart pounded in my chest as I struggled to comprehend what I was seeing. It was impossible, unthinkable—my wife had passed away just a week ago. And yet, here she was, standing before me, looking as vibrant and alive as ever.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, her brow furrowing with concern as she took in my stunned expression.
I couldn’t find the words to respond. My mind was reeling, trying to make sense of the impossible situation unfolding before me.
“Are you feeling alright?” she asked again, reaching out to touch my arm.
I recoiled instinctively, the shock of the moment still coursing through me. “I-I don’t understand,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. “You… you’re supposed to be… you’re supposed to be dead.”
My wife’s eyes widened in confusion, and for a moment, there was silence between us as the weight of my words hung heavy in the air.
And then, slowly, she began to speak, her voice trembling with emotion as she explained the truth of what had happened.
It turned out that my wife had been involved in a serious accident just days before her supposed death. Miraculously, she had survived, but she had suffered from amnesia as a result of her injuries, leaving her with no memory of her life before the accident.
For days, she had wandered the streets, lost and confused, until she had finally stumbled upon the supermarket where Carmen had found her. With no recollection of her past life, she had simply continued on, living each day as it came, unaware of the devastation her supposed death had caused.
As I listened to her story, a flood of emotions washed over me—relief, disbelief, and overwhelming gratitude that she was still alive. And as we stood there together, embracing each other in the doorway of our old apartment, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as husband and wife, united in love and determination to overcome whatever obstacles life threw our way.