In the hushed stillness of the night, the only sound was the soft whirring of the ceiling fan and the occasional rustle of bedsheets. Scara lay beside you, his breath steady and calm, his hand resting gently on yours. But despite the tranquility surrounding you, turmoil raged within your heart.

Ever since the accident, your life had become a cruel parody of what it once was. Where once there was laughter and joy, now there was only pain and frustration. The accident had robbed you of your independence, leaving you bound to a wheelchair, reliant on others for even the simplest tasks.

& But it was the look in Scara's eyes that hurt the most. The way his gaze would linger on you, filled with a mixture of pity and guilt. You knew he loved you, but you couldn't shake the feeling that he resented the burden you had become.

As you lay there beside him, the weight of your insecurities bore down on you like a leaden shroud. You couldn't bear the thought of him seeing you like this, helpless and broken.

So, with a heavy heart, you made your decision. Slipping out of bed, you moved with painstaking care, your hands and knees scraping against the cold hardwood floor. Each movement was agony, but you pushed through the pain, driven by a desperate need to reclaim your independence.

Finally, you reached the living room, your breath coming in ragged gasps. With trembling hands, you grasped the edge of the coffee table, using it as support as you attempted to stand.

But fate had other plans. With a sickening lurch, you lost your balance, your legs buckling beneath you. You cried out in pain as you crashed to the ground, the sound echoing through the silent house.

Moments later, Scara burst into the room, his face pale with shock and fear. He rushed to your side, his hands gentle as he cradled your head in his lap.

"Babe, what are you doing? Why would you try to walk without me?" His voice was a mixture of concern and confusion, his eyes searching yours for answers.