they are confused

The front door creaked softly as Asher opened it, immediately spotting two men in civilian uniforms, one wearing a leather jacket with a small ID tag on his chest, while the other carried a thick brown file folder.

"Come in," he said calmly, as if he already knew who they were.

Athena, curious and anxious, quickly approached them, her heart pounding. The uniforms made it clear, they were the people handling Asher's identity case.

"Athena Kingsleigh?" asked the first man, his voice neutral but full of authority.

Athena nodded quickly. "Is this... is this about my husband?" she asked.

The officer gave a short nod.

"May we sit down?" he asked.

Athena swallowed hard. "Of course," she said softly.

They sat across from each other. Asher remained silent beside Athena, occasionally glancing at the brown folder now placed on the table.

"Mrs. Kingsleigh," the second man said as he slowly opened the folder, "we've conducted an intensive search over the past four weeks. We contacted multiple countries, Interpol, and used biometric methods, including fingerprint scans and facial recognition."

Athena's breath grew heavy. Her hands trembled slightly.

The officer looked directly at her, his tone steady.

"But we found nothing. No name. No record. No family. Legally and administratively... your husband never existed," he explained, glancing briefly at Asher.

Athena swallowed again. Her eyes widened. The words echoed in her head "never existed".

She looked at Asher. The man showed no reaction, only a hardening of his jaw.

"Wait..." Athena finally spoke, her voice shaky. "What do you mean? No record at all? People can't just... disappear from the system, can they?"

The first officer replied quietly, "In theory, no. But in extremely rare cases like this... it can happen. It could be that your husband was never legally registered since birth, perhaps he was a child who was abandoned and then not looked after by the authorities so that until now he has no identity and plus he has memory problems."

Athena slowly stood, hugging herself. "So what does that mean? He can't stay here? We can't stay married?"

There was a silent pause that made the room feel even colder. Then the man holding the file gently closed it and looked at them.

"There is one path available," he said.

Athena turned quickly toward him.

"If you're willing to sponsor him as a spouse—and prove your relationship is genuine and committed, he can apply for residency under humanitarian grounds. It's not an easy process, and it'll take time. But we can help guide you through it."

Asher finally spoke, his voice deep but calm.

"What about my identity?"

The officer sighed. "If, after a certain period, we still can't find your real identity... we may apply to grant you a legal identity. A new name. A new number. A new beginning."

Athena looked at Asher. The world around her seemed to fade. All the words they had said pointed to one truth: her husband had no past, and their future would have to be built from emptiness, filled with questions and curiousity. 

"Asher..." she whispered, her eyes beginning to tear up.

Asher looked at her, then gently took her hand.

"I don't care who I used to be," he said softly, his gaze clouded with sorrow. "What I know is that now, I belong to you. And I'll stay that way... if you'll let me."

Athena held her breath. Her tears fell freely now, unwiped. Her thoughts scattered pity for Asher, who truly had no one else; fear because he was now depending on her completely, and she didn't know if she could do it. The threat of deportation loomed. And she wasn't even sure if she could become his sponsor. It made her dizzy.

The officers stood, preparing to leave.

"We'll return in a few days," one of them said. "For now, he may remain here. But we'll need a decision on the sponsorship as soon as possible."

Athena nodded slowly, letting them walk out through the door. Asher quietly shut it behind them.

The room fell silent again. Only the ticking of the old wall clock echoed faintly, each second stretching through the heavy stillness. Athena remained seated, staring blankly at the dying fire in the hearth. The ceiling light flickered weakly, casting faded shadows across her tired face.

Asher stood not far from her, brows furrowed. He could sense something was wrong. Something heavy weighed on his wife's mind. He stepped forward gently, his voice low and hesitant.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

Athena snapped out of her daze. She lifted her face to look at him, her eyes dim.

"This... This is something bad," she answered softly.

Asher's expression changed. He stepped closer, more urgency in his tone.

"Is it... something that could separate us?"

Athena gave a slow nod. Her shoulders sank under the weight of something invisible.

"If we don't get that sponsorship... you might be deported. Or sent to a holding facility for undocumented people. And there's no telling how long that would last. I just... I don't know what to do anymore."

Asher was silent for a moment before whispering, his voice emotionally charged,

"But I'm your husband, Athena! I'm with you! I'm supposed to protect you!"

Athena lowered her head, heart tightening. The desperation in his voice hurt her deeply.

"We live in a country of law, Asher," she said. "We have to follow the rules. No matter what we want... we can't just ignore them. We have to obey them, like everyone else."

Asher shook his head, stepping closer. His voice rose, firm, yet wounded.

"If the rules force me to be separated from my wife, then I'll fight! I won't just stand by!"

Athena froze. She looked at him, horrified. What if he really rebelled? What if he lost control? Could she stop him? That could lead to something worse "prison". She couldn't even begin to imagine that.

"I don't want this to happen!" Asher said, his eyes filled with a fierce emotion. His face tense, jaw clenched, but his eyes glistened with tears.

"Will you help me, Athena?" he asked finally, voice trembling, nearly broken. "Will you... help me to do anything, so I can stay here with you?"

Athena didn't answer right away. She looked into Asher's eyes. This man... this stranger without a past, now hung his entire hope on her.

She bit her lower lip, fighting the rush of emotion. Her heart felt heavy because if she chose to be the pillar of Asher's life, she couldn't back down. That would mean Asher was her responsibility. Her husband, forever, whatever the situation.

Athena rose slowly from the couch, her breathing uneven. She turned her face away from Asher's pleading gaze and started walking toward the stairs, her steps shaky.

"Athena?" Asher called out softly, hoping she would stop.

But Athena didn't reply. She just walked toward the bedroom door. Her shoulders trembled slightly before she spoke, her back still turned.

"I'm sorry... I need some time alone."

Asher stood quickly, his tone laced with panic.

"But i... I don't understand. You don't want to help me? You don't think I deserve to be here?"

Athena closed her eyes for a moment.

"That's not it. It's not because I don't believe in you… it's because I'm afraid."

"Afraid of me?" he asked.

"Afraid of failing. Afraid of making a decision that will change our lives or letting you down. I'm not a hero, Asher… I'm just a confused woman trying to figure things out," she said, her voice cracking. "This isn't easy, not at all."

Asher stood frozen, his gaze vacant, his shoulders slumping like someone who'd just lost his strength.

"I'm not asking you to be my hero, Athena. I just... I just need you to be with me."

Athena turned slightly to glance at him, her eyes red and full of doubt.

"But what if I can't be your support system? I'm not even safe myself. I've been running from Carlos. My life's a mess. I am drowning in debt," she said hoarsely, tears already streaming down her cheeks.

She turned and walked away again, not looking back.

Asher stood in silence, staring blankly. The room fell quiet again, as though the walls themselves were holding their breath.

Once he heard the bedroom door shut softly upstairs, Asher drew in a deep breath and returned to the sofa. He sat hunched over, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on the floor.

He stayed that way for a long while, before finally whispering to himself,

"I don't even know who I am... and now, I might lose the only thing that's ever made me feel alive."

The ceiling lamp still flickered faintly. The fire had long gone out. The warmth slowly faded, swallowed by the cold night.

And for the first time since they were married, that night felt lonelier than ever like a quiet space where distance had begun to grow.