Adam leaned back against the cool slats of the bench, staring up at the restless branches swaying overhead. The breeze carried a memory he hadn’t invited: Ava’s laugh, soft and warm, like sunlight spilling through kitchen curtains.
Bare feet on grass. A coffee mug in her hand as she teased him for burning pancakes on a Sunday morning.
He almost smiled. Almost.
Then the image cracked and flickered, replaced by the sterile white of a hospital room, the unrelenting beep of machines echoing in his chest.
Would Ava ever walk into this park again? Would she even know him if she woke?
Guilt settled over him like a heavy fog. Loving Dawn felt like a betrayal. Maybe he didn’t deserve a second chance.
Adam rubbed his face, letting out a long, shaky breath. Maybe… loving Dawn was wrong.
A soft
