Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Richard's recovery was slow and arduous, with countless setbacks and challenges along the way.
Karl was by his side every step of the way, sacrificing his own needs and desires to care for his friend. He spent hours in the hospital, holding Richard's hand and talking to him, even when Richard was too weak to respond.
As the months dragged on, Karl began to feel the strain. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically drained from the constant stress and worry.
But he refused to give up. He knew that Richard needed him, and he was determined to be there for his friend, no matter what.
Finally, after months of rehabilitation, Richard was able to leave the hospital. He was weak and frail, but he was alive, and that was all that mattered.
Karl was overjoyed, hugging Richard tightly as he helped him into the car. "You're coming home," Karl said, his voice trembling with emotion.
Richard smiled weakly, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thanks, Karl," he whispered.
As they drove home, Karl couldn't help but feel a sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, Richard was going to be okay. Maybe they could put the past behind them and start anew.
But as they pulled into the driveway, Karl's heart sank. Richard's eyes had clouded over, and his face was twisted in pain.
"What's wrong?" Karl asked, alarm rising in his voice.
Richard's eyes locked onto Karl's, filled with a deep sadness. "I remember," he whispered.
Karl's heart skipped a beat. "Remember what?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Richard's eyes dropped, and he whispered a single word: "Everything."