For fourteen long days, the hospital room felt like a suspended world where time had lost its meaning. The only constant sound was the steady rhythm of the ventilator, marking each breath for my husband Mark, who lay motionless in the bed.
His condition had not changed since the accident, and every passing day deepened the silence that surrounded him. I often found myself watching the machines more than anything else, as if they held the only answers left.
I stayed by his side as much as I could, holding his hand and speaking to him even when there was no response. “Come back to me,” I would whisper, leaning…
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