"Elena… it's me. Ethan," he said again, his voice low but desperate.
But Elena only shook her head, backing away from him like he was a stranger. Her eyes darted around the café in confusion. "Why are all these people looking at me? What happened to me? Why can't I remember anything?!"
Ethan's heart felt like it was being crushed. "You had a head injury. You were trying to protect Alex when—" he stopped.
Alex.
He clenched his fists.
"Where is he?" she asked softly.
Ethan hesitated. "He's… missing. Someone took him. But I'm going to find him. I swear I will."
"I don't understand any of this…" Elena murmured, holding her temples. Her head felt heavy, her mind a blank canvas with just splashes of fear.
"You don't have to," Ethan said firmly, walking closer. "I'll handle everything. Just… trust me."
"I don't even know you," she whispered.
That hurt more than anything.
The woman he had fought so hard for, laughed with, shared a home with—was now a stranger.
---
That Night
Ethan took Elena back home. He couldn't let her go anywhere alone, not when their son was still missing, and she couldn't even remember her own name properly.
She stood in the hallway, looking around the house, disoriented.
"This is… where I live?" she asked, fingers grazing the photo frames.
"Yes," Ethan replied quietly, his eyes never leaving her.
She stopped in front of a picture—one of her and Alex laughing together.
She stared at it for a long time.
Then pointed. "Is this boy… mine?"
Ethan's throat tightened. "Yes. That's Alex. He's your son."
Elena's lips quivered. "But… I don't feel anything. I can't remember him. Or… or you."
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Ethan stepped forward slowly and pulled her into a gentle hug.
"You will, Elena. I'll help you remember everything. I promise. But right now, I need to find our son. He's waiting for us."
---
Meanwhile…
Alex sat in the corner of a locked room, crying quietly.
Suddenly, a small voice from the shadows whispered, "Hey… are you okay?"
Another child. A girl.
Alex looked up, hope flickering in his eyes.
"No," he whispered back. "But my daddy's coming. He always comes."