We slept in the same bed for ten years without ever touching each other. Everyone else thought our marriage was over, but the truth hurt more. Some wounds can be reopened with just a touch.

One Sunday, she opened an old box from the drawer. Inside were tiny socks never worn, the hospital bracelet, a blurred photograph.

“Shall we keep it together?” she asked.

He nodded. Not to forget, but to remember without breaking.

That night, they slept wrapped in each other’s arms for the first time in years. Not desperately, but peacefully. As those who understand that love does not always shout; sometimes it simply breathes beside you.

And so, without realizing it, they learned—late, but not too late—
that sharing a bed does not guarantee closeness,
but choosing to reach out, even in fear, can save an entire life.

The house regained its soft nighttime sounds. Footsteps. Sighs. The mattress creaking without hesitation. To anyone looking in from outside, they would appear to be two ordinary people asleep.

But they knew the truth.

They had spent years without touching…
and still, love had waited.