The beeping of the machine filled the room as always. A streaming air refresher was beside him on the stand table. The room smelled like chemicals and medicine. It was quite. Warm and cold at the same time.

You smiled at him as you went for the flower vase beside him, to replace the old flowers with a new fresh one.

“Good morning, Mark.” You said as you bent to place a soft kiss on his forehead. He didn’t flinch or say anything. A sigh skipped your mouth as you sat beside him on a chair that was next to the bed.

Looking at him, he looked the same. Wires still injected into his body. His eyes still closed and he still was not moving. You tried hard to just think that he was asleep and nothing else. Because thinking otherwise killed you every day.

It had been a year. The doctor said he would regain consciousness in days. But days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and months turned into a year now. And you just couldn’t leave him alone no matter what.

“Sweetheart,” His mother had said, “You can give up and move on him now.”

“It had been a year, you had done enough for us. Just live your life.” His dad had said.

But you just couldn’t. What's between you and Mark wasn’t just another summer fling or a short time thing. You were getting married. After a year of a strong, sweet love story, he promised you home, family and love. You also had had a child living inside of you, waiting with you at night for her father to wake up every day.

But even that child didn’t live for so long.

She survived for only a few days before leaving the world. Leaving you alone, waiting for her father alone.

You didn’t even know what you will tell him when he woke up. That little child was your dream, his dream.

All you had now was Mark and a hope… A hope that he would wake up and go back