The Road To Recovery

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As the plane touched down in Korea, the air buzzed with a mixture of excitement and nostalgia. After their time spent in Kelantan, Iman and his wives were ready to return to their lives, rejuvenated and with a renewed sense of purpose. The trip had deepened their bond and given them memories they would cherish forever. Now, they were eager to get back to their home, to the life they had built together.

The streets of Seoul were bustling with activity, the city as vibrant and lively as ever. Iman and his wives decided to take a walk through one of their favorite neighborhoods, enjoying the sights and sounds of the city they loved. It was a perfect day—clear skies, a gentle breeze, and the warmth of the sun on their faces.

As they strolled along, Iman felt a deep sense of contentment. He looked at the women beside him, their faces lit with happiness, and knew that he was the luckiest man in the world. The love he felt for them was overwhelming, and he couldn't imagine a life without them by his side.

They were passing by a busy intersection when it happened. A loud honk, the screeching of tires, and a sudden, horrifying realization. A young child had wandered into the street, directly in the path of an oncoming car. Time seemed to slow as Iman's instincts took over. Without a second thought, he sprinted toward the child, pushing them out of the way just in time. But in doing so, he couldn't save himself. The impact was brutal, the force sending him crashing to the ground.

The world around them erupted into chaos. His wives screamed his name, rushing to his side as the driver of the car frantically called for help. The child, miraculously unharmed, was whisked away by a passerby. But all focus was on Iman, lying motionless on the asphalt, blood pooling beneath him.

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Hours later, the hospital was eerily quiet. Iman's wives sat in the waiting room, their faces pale, eyes red from crying. They clung to each other, their hearts filled with fear and dread. The doctors had been working on Iman for hours, and the uncertainty was tearing them apart.

Finally, a doctor emerged from the operating room, his face grave. The women stood as one, their breaths held as they waited for the news.

**Doctor:** "He's stable for now," the doctor began, his tone cautious. "But the injuries were severe. He suffered a significant head trauma, and while we were able to stop the bleeding and reduce the swelling, there's something you need to know."

He paused, searching for the right words, but the silence was unbearable.

**Siyeon:** "Just tell us," Siyeon urged, her voice trembling.

**Doctor:** "He's in a coma," the doctor finally said, his voice soft but clear. "And when he wakes up, there's a strong possibility that he won't remember anything. We're looking at potential retrograde amnesia—meaning he could lose his memories, possibly everything up to the moment before the accident."

The words hit them like a ton of bricks. Amnesia. The thought of Iman not knowing who he was, not remembering them, was too much to bear. Their strong, loving Iman, the man who had brought them all together, might not even recognize them when he woke up.

**Handong:** "But he's going to wake up, right?" Handong asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, we believe so. It could be hours, days, or even weeks, but we're optimistic that he will regain consciousness. The extent of the memory loss, however, is something we won't know until then."

They thanked the doctor and retreated to Iman's room, their hearts heavy with the weight of uncertainty. As they entered, the sight of him lying so still, connected to various machines, was almost too much to bear. He looked so fragile, so unlike the vibrant man they knew and loved.

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