Kim had spent nine years loving Pete. Five years of love, four years of marriage. They had built a life together, one filled with laughter, stolen kisses, and silent understandings. Pete had been Kim’s home, his light, his reason to believe in happiness.

And then, piece by piece, Pete started slipping away.

At first, it had been little things—forgetting where he left his keys, missing appointments, struggling to remember certain words. Kim had teased him at first, thinking it was just exhaustion or stress. But when Pete forgot their anniversary—forgot an entire day that meant the world to them—Kim knew something was wrong.

Pete went to the doctor alone, not wanting to worry Kim. He had walked into the hospital with his heart pounding in his chest, praying it was nothing. But the results broke him. A brain tumor. Slowly, cruelly, it would take everything from him. His memories. His sense of self. His love.

He couldn’t tell Kim. He didn’t know how. So he left, wandering aimlessly until he found himself at their park—the place where they had shared their first kiss, their first ‘I love you.’ He sat on a bench, staring into nothingness, trying to grasp onto something solid as his world crumbled around him.

Kim, panicked when Pete didn’t answer his calls, had driven all over the city searching for him. When someone finally picked up Pete’s phone, his blood ran cold—it was a doctor. He rushed to the hospital, only to be told what Pete couldn’t bring himself to say.

Kim’s heart shattered. But there was no time to break down—Pete was alone, and Kim needed to find him.

When he did, Kim ran to him, dropping to his knees and pulling Pete into a desperate embrace. "You scared me," Kim whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You scared me so much, Pete."

Pete clung to him, voice trembling. "I—I didn’t know how to tell you." His breath hitched. "I don’t want to forget you, Kim."

Kim held him tighter, pressing his forehead against Pete’s. "Then I’ll remember for both of us."

From that day on, Kim became Pete’s caretaker. He took care of him like he was the most precious thing in the world—because he was.

But as the days passed, Pete’s condition worsened.

Some days, he was himself—smiling, laughing, telling Kim he loved him. Other days, he struggled to remember what day it was, where he was, even small things like how to tie his shoes. Kim filled their home with reminders—sticky notes on the walls, flashcards with important details, a card in Pete’s wallet with Kim’s name and number in case he ever got lost.

And then came the hardest day.

Pete woke up, looked at Kim, and asked, "Who are you?"

Kim felt his entire world tilt. He swallowed down the pain, forcing himself to smile. "I’m Kim," he said softly.

Pete frowned, then whispered, "Kim... my husband?"

Kim let out a shaky breath, nodding. "Yeah, love. Your husband."

Pete touched his face, brushing his fingers over Kim’s cheek. "You look sad. Why are you crying?"

Kim held Pete’s hand against his cheek, closing his eyes. "Because I love you."

Days passed. Kim held onto every moment, every fragment of Pete that remained.

Then, one night, someone broke into their home.

Tawan. Pete’s ex. A ghost from the past.

Pete, confused and disoriented, didn’t recognize him at first. "Who...?"

Tawan smirked. "It’s me, Pete. Your first love."

Pete clutched his head, trying to remember. But before Tawan could take advantage of his confusion—

"Don’t touch him."

Kim’s voice was calm, but the fury in his eyes was terrifying. His gun was steady, aimed right at Tawan.

Pete, instinctively, moved closer to Kim.

Tawan smirked. "He’s forgetting everything, isn’t he? Soon, he won’t even remember you—"

Kim snapped. He lunged at Tawan, slamming him against the wall. "If you ever come near him again," Kim growled, "I’ll make sure you regret it."

Tawan fled.

Pete, shaken, clung to Kim. "I didn’t recognize him," he whispered. "But I knew you. I always know you."

Kim kissed his forehead. "That’s all that matters."

The Final Ride

One evening, Pete smiled up at Kim. "Can we go on a bike ride?"

Kim hesitated. "Are you sure you’re feeling okay?"

Pete nodded. "To our favorite place." He looked at Kim, eyes soft. "Please."

So they went. Kim drove them to the cliffside where they had once talked about their future. Pete sat on the grass, leaning against Kim before shifting to lay his head on Kim’s lap.

Kim ran his fingers through Pete’s hair, humming softly. "Are you comfortable?"

"Mhm." Pete’s eyes fluttered closed. "Kim?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Kim smiled. "I love you too."

Minutes passed. The sun dipped lower. Kim continued playing with Pete’s hair, the rhythm gentle, soothing. But then—

Stillness.

"Pete?" Kim’s fingers trembled. "Pete?"

No response.

Kim’s breath hitched. His vision blurred. A choked sob escaped him. He held Pete closer, his hands shaking.

And as the stars appeared, Kim whispered, voice breaking, "I’ll love you even when you forget me. I’ll love you even when you’re gone."

---

Years Later

Kim stood before Pete’s grave, a bouquet of white forget-me-nots in his hands. The years had passed, but the pain never truly faded.

A small hand tugged at his sleeve. "Dada, who is he?"

Kim knelt, gently ruffling the little boy’s hair. "This is papa Pete," he murmured. "The person I loved the most in this world."

The child—his son, their son—looked up at him with curious eyes. Kim had adopted him a year after Pete’s passing, a boy who had lost his own family. He had named him Sun, because after the darkest night of his life, this child had become his light.

Sun reached out, placing a small flower on the grave. "Hi, papa Pete. Dada talks about you a lot. I think you must be really cool."

Kim chuckled softly, his eyes damp. "He was."

They sat there, watching the sunset, just as Kim and Pete once had.

Kim exhaled shakily, pressing his palm against the gravestone. "I kept my promise, Pete," he whispered. "I remembered for both of us. And I still love you. I always will."

The wind rustled, carrying the scent of forget-me-nots.

And for a moment, just a moment, Kim swore he felt Pete’s presence beside him, smiling.

BONUS:

A Visit to Papa

The afternoon sun bathed the cemetery in golden light as Kim and Sun walked along the familiar path, hand in hand. It had been months, but visiting Pete never felt like a routine—it was a ritual, a moment of love, a way to keep him with them.

Sun, now six years old, carried a small bouquet of forget-me-nots in his little hands. He skipped ahead, reaching Pete’s grave first. "Papa! We’re here!" he chirped, placing the flowers carefully before plopping down on the grass.

Kim chuckled, sitting beside him. "You’re so energetic today," he teased, ruffling Sun’s hair.

Sun grinned. "I have a lot to tell Papa!"

Kim smiled softly, running his fingers over Pete’s name on the gravestone. "Then go on, baby. Papa’s listening."

Sun took a deep breath and started rambling. "Dada took me to the amusement park last week! We went on the Ferris wheel, but Dada was scared—"

"I was not scared," Kim interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

Sun giggled. "Okay, okay, maybe just a little! But I wasn’t! I looked at the whole city from up there, Papa! You would’ve loved it!"

Kim sighed dramatically. "He bullied me the entire time, Pete. Just like you used to."

Sun gasped. "I did not bully! I just told the truth, right, Papa?" He turned to the gravestone as if expecting Pete to agree.

Kim chuckled. "Fine, fine. What else?"

Sun beamed. "Oh! I drew a picture of our family in school! Me, Dada, and Papa!" He paused, glancing down. "Some kids asked why my Papa wasn’t picking me up, so I told them you live in the sky and watch over me all the time."

Kim’s heart clenched, warmth and sorrow mixing in his chest. "That’s right," he murmured, pressing a kiss to Sun’s forehead. "Papa is always with us."

Sun nodded firmly. "And I told them I have the best Papa ever! And the best Dada too!" He looked at Kim and grinned. "But Papa was probably more fun."

Kim huffed. "Excuse me?"

Sun giggled. "It’s true! I saw the videos! Papa used to prank you a lot!"

Kim sighed, shaking his head. "I should’ve deleted those videos."

Sun leaned against Kim’s side, wrapping his little arms around him. "Dada, do you miss Papa?"

Kim swallowed, glancing at the gravestone before nodding. "Every single day, baby."

Sun frowned. "Do you think Papa misses us too?"

Kim smiled softly, wrapping an arm around Sun’s small shoulders. "I know he does."

They sat there for a while, watching the sky turn shades of pink and orange.

Sun yawned, rubbing his eyes. "Dada, do you think if I talk to Papa in my dreams, he’ll answer?"

Kim pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. "I think he already does, sweetheart."

Sun smiled sleepily. "Good. I’ll tell him more stories tonight."

Kim hugged him close, looking up at the sky. "Keep watching over us, Pete," he whispered. "We’re doing okay. But we still miss you and I love a lot."

And as the evening breeze rustled the leaves, Kim swore he could hear Pete’s laughter in the wind.

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