Chapter 36
Anna
My first physiotherapy session at home felt nothing like I had imagined. I thought it would be hopeful, motivating, something that made me feel closer to walking again. Instead, it felt like a quiet reminder of everything I had lost.
The physiotherapist laid out a mat in the living room and showed me simple exercises, hand movements, slow leg lifts, controlled breathing.
Dad had to help lift me from the wheelchair onto the mat, his face tight with effort and worry.
My hands responded easily enough, fingers curling and stretching on command. But my legs… they barely listened.
They twitched sometimes. Other times, nothing happened at all.
The physio encouraged me, praising every tiny movement, but I could tell from her eyes, this wasn’t going to be easy. Maybe it would take a long time. Maybe it would never happen.
When the session ended, Dad helped me back into the wheelchair. I hated how dependent I had become. The physio stood nearby, writing notes on her clipboard, when the front door opened.
“Hey,” Michael said as he walked in.
He leaned down and kissed my cheek, his eyes slid past the wheelchair, like it wasn’t there. Or like he didn’t want it to be.
He didn’t ask me how I felt.
He turned straight to the physiotherapist. “So… how’s the progress? When is she going to start walking?”
The physio paused, choosing her words carefully. “I wish I could give you a timeline,” she said. “Some people walk within months. For others, it takes years. And some…never do. All we can do is keep trying.”
I watched Michael’s face. Just for a second, disappointment flickered across it before he masked it with a tight nod.
“Well… anyway,” the physio said, packing up her things, “I’ll see you Tuesday, Anna. Same time.”
“Thanks, Doc,” I murmured.
She left, and silence filled the room. Michael stared at me, lost in thought.
“There you have it,” I said quietly. “You’ll only marry me again if you see I can walk, right? You’d never want this burden on your hands.”
“Anna, stop being dramatic,” he said. “I love you. But can you blame me? This is reality. I love you so much. But how do we function as a couple with you being…” He gestured toward my legs, unable to finish.
“So, your love has always been conditional.”
“Would you have stayed if the roles were reversed?” he asked.
“I would have,” I said. “I take my vows seriously, Michael. But this isn’t just about walking. You didn’t just leave a paraplegic, you nearly ended my life, and there are other things I don’t even want to talk about right now.”
He sighed. “I’ll come back when you’re in a better mood. And let’s hope you can walk—for your sake.”
“For my sake?” My voice shook, but I held his gaze. “I’ve made peace with it. I don’t need to walk to live a full life. And I definitely don’t need you in it.”
“Trust me, you need me, Anna,” he said coldly.
“You don’t even have a job anymore. And it didn’t pay well anyway.
Your dad won’t always be able to support you.
I’ll take care of you financially, because I still love you.
We’ll see where things go. Veronica won’t be happy, but she’ll have to accept it. ”
“Of course, Veronica,” I said bitterly. “I don’t need your money. And I’m ready to move on without you.”
Tears burned my eyes as the words left my mouth. I looked up, and froze.
Dr. Collins stood in the doorway. My dad was just behind him, guiding him toward the lounge.
Michael turned and went pale. “Dr. Collins? Are you… doing a routine check-up?”
Dr. Collins barely looked at him. “Something like that,” he said, his eyes fixed on me.
“I’ll go,” Michael muttered, turning back to me. “Don’t be dramatic. We’ll work it out.”
And then he left.
The room felt quieter than ever. But the silence didn’t feel empty. It felt like something had finally ended—and something else was just beginning.
I broke down completely.
“I thought you abandoned me,” I said, my voice shaking as tears streamed down my cheeks.
He stepped closer and crouched in front of the wheelchair, taking my hand in his. His other hand lifted slowly, carefully, and wiped away the tears from my face.
“Never,” he said softly. “I’m here. I’ve always been here for you.”
Something in me cracked open. I leaned forward, and he wrapped his arms around me. I rested my head against his shoulder, breathing him in like something familiar I thought I had lost.
“I missed you,” I whispered.
“I missed you too,” he murmured back.
I stayed like that, then said. “Dr. Collins…”
“I’m listening,” he said softly.
My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. “I think… I think I’m in love with you.”
He went completely still. He didn’t let go right away, but he didn’t move either. We stayed like that for a long moment, the air between us heavy and uncertain. Then he slowly pulled back.
“That can’t be,” he said carefully. “You’re confused, Anna. You just came out of a marriage. You’ve been through trauma. Sometimes people cling to the person who was there during the worst moments—like your doctor, who spent months helping you survive.”
“No,” I said quickly. “I’m not confused. I know what I feel. I really do love you. I swear.”
I could see him trying to steady himself, trying to put the walls back where they belonged. His voice softened, but it became more professional, more guarded.
“Let’s talk about your wellbeing, okay?” he said. “That’s what matters most right now.”
And just like that, the space between us changed, still close, still charged, but suddenly full of things I wasn’t ready to face.
He didn’t stay long after my confession. Just long enough for the silence to grow heavy between us.
“I just wanted to check how you’re feeling,” he said gently, already stepping back. “I’ll come again when I’m off. Take a rest, Anna.”
He greeted my dad at the door, polite, distant, like nothing life-changing had just been said between us. Then he was gone.
Nancy came in a few minutes later, her smile fading the moment she saw my face.
I broke.
“I told him I love him,” I sobbed. “I said it out loud, Nancy. And he just… brushed it off. Said I’m confused. Said it’s because of what I’ve been through.” My chest hurt with every breath. “I guess this is my reality now.”
She wrapped her arms around me and held me while I cried, my tears soaking into her shirt.
When I pulled back, she signed softly, her hands moving with care.
“What happened?”
“He doesn’t see me,” I whispered. “Michael looks at me like I’m broken. Dr. Collins looks at me like a patient. And everyone else looks at me like a problem to solve.” My voice cracked. “I think I’m just going to live with Dad forever. Grow old with him. Become invisible.”
Nancy shook her head hard and signed again.
Don’t say that.
I wiped my face. “Now I understand you,” I said quietly. “How it feels when men are drawn to you… until they realize you can’t speak; can’t fit into the life they imagined. Then they leave.” My throat tightened. “I’m sorry you went through that, Nancy. I didn’t understand before. Now I do.”
Her eyes softened. She pulled me into another hug, then pulled back and signed slow and certain.
“You are not invisible. You are hurting. That doesn’t make you unlovable. It makes you human.”
I nodded, wishing I could believe it as easily as she did. Right then, all I could feel was the echo of his voice telling me I was confused—and the empty space he left behind when he walked away.