The days turned into weeks, and Brian's recovery remained a fragile thread. Lisa found herself visiting him with a new sense of determination. Although he could not see her, and his voice was still weak from his long vegetative state, she felt an urgency to connect with him in any way possible.
On one particular afternoon, Lisa settled into the chair beside his bed, the familiar scent of antiseptic filling the air. She held his hand gently, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her touch. "Hey, Brian," she began, her voice soft but steady. "It's me again, I know things have been tough for you, but I want to tell you that it has been tougher on me and your mom."
