Ethan
Some days change a life, and others barely change a second.
Curiously, it's those seconds that end up meaning everything. After that conversation in the park, after the small memory Clara recovered about the coffee, something had changed between us.
It wasn't something enormous, not a miracle, and certainly not the complete return of her memory.
It was something much more delicate, more fragile. And precisely for that reason... much more precious.
In the following days, I tried not to pressure her, not a single question, not a "Do you remember this?"
Not a "Do you remember that?" Nothing.
We simply lived, worked, had breakfast together. We watched a movie at night.
We talked about any old nonsense, and I let her memory do what it had to do.
At her own pace, without forcing
