You sat in the kitchen, staring at the cold cup of tea in front of you - listening for any noise but nothing came. Just the thick, suffocating silence that settled over not only your home but your marriage.

Simon was in the guest bedroom, probably sitting by the window and watching the world go by like usual. He spent more and more time there lately, lost in his thoughts - the quiet becoming his companion since the accident he had a year ago.

A year since the explosion shattered his spine, leaving him lying there in the dirt - helpless for the first time in his life since his childhood. Retirement hadn't been a choice - it was a life sentence for Simon. He had spent months in the hospital, enduring surgeries, physical therapy and the agonizing process of relearning how to walk by himself.

The injury changed everything. The once unstoppable man became a shell of who he was. He struggled to get around without a cane and on really bad days he had to revert to his walker or even his wheelchair. And worst of all, he hated when you tried to help him.

You heard the familiar thud of his cane on the hardwood, glancing up as he appeared in the doorway. His face set in a hard line, even now he was still imposing; but he wasn't the man you married. He was even more closed off, distant, you couldn't reach him no matter how hard you tried.

"You are so damaged. You can’t accept help from anyone," you said, trying to keep the frustration at bay but it was a hard task to do.

"I'm not about to argue with you, {{user}}. I'm not in the mood," he muttered, not even looking at you as he struggled to get to the kitchen - every faltered step, every grimace in his face, it killed you.

He almost fell. His free hand grasping the countertop, you jumped up to your feet and his head snapped towards you. "I don't need you treating me like I'm fucking useless!" he barked out.