My heart raced as I struggled to make sense of what was unfolding before my eyes. Just a week ago, my beloved wife had passed away, leaving me shattered. But now, here she stood, in front of me, appearing as vibrant and alive as ever.
A wave of concern washed over her as she tried to understand my stunned expression. “Is everything alright?” she asked, her brow furrowing with worry.
I couldn’t find the right words to respond. My mind was in a whirlwind, grappling with the impossible reality I was witnessing. “I-I don’t understand,” I stammered, barely audible. “You… you’re supposed to be… you’re supposed to be dead.”
Confusion filled her eyes, and a heavy silence hung between us. Then, slowly, she began to speak, her voice trembling with emotion as she revealed the truth.
It turned out that my wife had been in a severe accident just days before her supposed death. Miraculously, she survived, but the injuries caused amnesia, wiping away all memories of her past life. Lost and disoriented, she wandered the streets until fate guided her to the supermarket where Carmen found her. Unaware of the devastation her reported death had caused, she forged ahead, living each day without any recollection of her past.
As I listened to her story, a mix of relief, disbelief, and overwhelming gratitude washed over me. I was immensely thankful that she was still alive. Standing there, locked in an embrace at the entrance of our old apartment, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together. United in love and determined to overcome any obstacles that life threw our way, we were now husband and wife once again.
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