Doctors told him there was no hope. After two months in a coma, his wife’s body could no longer survive without machines. Heartbroken, he signed the papers to let her go.
He sat beside her, holding her hand for the last time. “I’ll always love you,” he whispered. “Rest now, my love.”
But as he leaned in to kiss her forehead, he froze — her chest was moving. She was breathing… on her own.
The room filled with stunned silence. “This is impossible,” one doctor murmured. Yet her lungs kept rising and falling, steady and strong.
Tears streamed down his face as he called her name. She was fighting her way back.
Weeks later, her eyes opened. Weak but alive, she looked at him — and smiled.
He squeezed her hand and whispered, “Welcome home, my love.”
