Let someone else choose you, Blythe says softly, standing over Daniels bedside, her eyes cold as she looks at his broken body. He cant move or speak, only groans, but he listens to her finish the sentence.
Do you expect me to spend my whole life on the altar of your disability? You stare at me like Im a joke. You think Im the last thing youll ever have? she snaps.
She brushes the orange chrysanthemums on the nightstand. The vase looks familiarBlythe remembers a similar one at her motherinlaws housebut she would never bring flowers herself. Someone else must have. Perhaps the girl he once rescued, though it hardly matters now.
I believe youll get back on your feet eventually, maybe someone else will pick you up, Blythe continues. Everything will work out, just not with me. My father is already in the car waiting. Ive taken nothing from your flat except the juicer you never used. I left all the rugs, the little Egyptian statues, everything else. Dont look for me, dont try to reconcile. Well divorce when its necessary; Im not in a rush. Goodbye.
She leaves, touching the flowers once more. The scent of her perfume lingers in the ward for twenty minutes.
A male voice from the next bed chuckles. What, mate? Your wife dumped you? Tough break, love. Shes off hunting for somewhere warmer. Cant say more.
Daniel stares at the ceiling, unable to do much else. He tries to understand Blythes motives, recalling his mothers endless love, the only love that never fails. Everything else is temporary, he thinks, as long as theres some benefit.
The old woman is just looking for a cozier spot, the stranger continues, and youre the perfect target.
Daniel wishes he could block out the chatter, but the man keeps rambling about exgirlfriends, work, and then circles back to women like Blythe. Lord, what a torture! Have I already had enough? Daniel thinks, his heart pounding.
The torment drags on, and Daniel spends the whole autumn and winter fighting for his life.
It is late August, the air already crisp, hinting at the coming fall. Street lamps turn on earlier each night. Daniel, hunched from a double shift, climbs out of the factory bus, his body aching. In the morning, his shiftmate calls at the gate, voice trembling with panic and excitement: Blythes going into labour! I cant leave her alone! Cover for me, please!
Sure, Daniel replies, go, Ill manage.
He reaches for a cigarette, but a terrified female scream cuts through the distant traffic, followed by a harsh male laugh. The fatigue abandons him; he drops the unlit cigarette and curses under his breath, turning toward the sound.
Around the corner, in the dim evening of an abandoned lot, three burly lads in tracksuits form a circle. In the middle, a frail girl in a light dress darts, clutching a bag. One pulls at her sleeve, another reaches for her waist.
Leave her alone! the girl cries, tears streaming. Im calling the police!
The police will be here in a minute, love, the biggest lad snarls, chuckling. Take your time.
Daniel doesnt think. A childhood lesson rings in his head: Stand up for a woman, help the weak, dont walk away. He steps forward.
Gentlemen, his voice is surprisingly steady, what are you doing to a girl?
The three turn, smug grins fading.
Who are you? Some hero? the tall one sneers.
Get out while you still can, the second growls.
Daniel lunges, shoving the girl behind him, and shouts, Run!
She darts away, her footsteps fading in the darkness. A sudden, blinding pain explodes at the back of Daniels head. He collapses onto his knees, struck by a barrage of blows. He hears his own rib crack, feels blood on his lips, sees a boot coming straight for his face. Thoughts scramble, but one stays clear: Shes gone. Thats a relief.
Later, in the trauma ward, his mother wipes away tears, sobbing at his bedside. Why did you do that? You almost got killed, you fool! She was a stranger
Daniel, immobilised in plaster and tubes, cant even turn his head. His eyes are stubborn, determined.
Its the only way, he wants to say. My father taught me not to walk past someone in need.
Paramedics finally arrive, doctors hovering over his battered body, whispering, We made it I think. In that first, crucial battle for his life, Daniel wins, but the cost is steep. His injuries keep him in the hospital for weeks, perhaps months.
A few days later, a new visitor appearsMaggie, the girl whose life he saved. She sits on a chair by his bed, a faint trail of perfume filling the sterile room. Shes striking, yet an invisible wall separates them; he sees her features but feels no connection.
One day Maggies mother arrives, a weary woman with deep lines on her face. She brings a lush bouquet of gladioli, replacing the wilted chrysanthemums. Daniel watches the bright, almost gaudy flowers, feeling they resemble funeral wreaths. He nods silently, gripping the blankets edge, grateful for the thought.
During one of Maggies quiet gazes out the window, Daniel finally speaks.
Why do you keep coming here? his voice is low but firm. I can see these visits wear on you.
How dare you think that! Maggie snaps, hurriedly opening her bag. I brought you grapes and a new book everyones raving about.
Weeks pass. Daniel regains fragments of health, his mind clearing as strength returns. When he finally sits up unaided, he asks her to stop coming.
Just promise me one thing, he says, looking straight into her eyes. Be more careful. Dont wander alone in dark alleys. Youre too bright; keep yourself safe for the one youll someday love and raise a family with.
Tears well in Maggies eyes; she nods wordlessly, unable to speak.
Enough, stop crying, Daniel mutters, turning toward the wall. Its nauseating without tears.
He forces himself to promise that she will get back on her feet, even though the thought still feels like a distant dream. They part, forever.
Maggie never returns. Her tears had become an unbearable weight for him, like a mothers wail at a graveside.
From that day on, a steel resolve awakens in Daniel. He fights daily with his own body; pain becomes his constant companion, seeping into every muscle and nerve with every attempt to regain control. Lying in a wheelchair would be the easy way out, but Daniel is determined to prove he can live fully again, no matter the cost.
Doctors call his progress a miracle, but only he knows the true price: sleepless nights drenched in sweat, scraped palms, spasms that feel like his limbs have turned inside out. Finally, he feels a faint, coveted twitch in his toes.
Doubt still whispers, Who will love a cripple?
Blythe remains vanished, just as she demanded. Daniel never tries to contact her; his former happy life is over, yet he refuses to give up.
Spring rain taps against the window. Using crutches, he stands for the first time in months and takes tentative steps across his flat. His mother, who has watched his struggle, finally breathes out, hope returning to her eyes.
One sunny day, near summer, Daniel gathers his will and ventures out for his first solo walk. He hobbles down the familiar courtyard of his childhood neighbourhood, leaning on his crutch. Fatigue overtakes him, and he slumps onto the cool bench. Suddenly, a window on the fifth floor bursts open; a young man shouts, then tosses a oldstyle button phone through the air. Reacting on instinct, Daniel lunges and catches the device.
He twists it in his hand, recognising the outdated model, and waits for the owner to appear, but the courtyard stays silent. Minutes later, an angry teen darts past, ignoring Daniel completely.
Half an hour later the phone rings.
Hello? a familiar female voice answers, making Daniels heart skip.
Yes, Im listening, he says, trying to steady his breath.
Who is this? Wheres Michael?
Hes probably at home. I found your phonesomeone threw it out of a window about thirty minutes ago.
A dead silence follows.
This is my phone Please tell me where I can collect it.
Later, Maggie reappears at the buildings entrance, eyes wide, and throws herself around Daniels neck. He awkwardly runs his hand through her hair, trying to calm her excitement.
She explains that Michael, her exboyfriend, is a pathological jealous man who destroyed the phone, convinced shed gotten a second number for secret contacts. In reality, it was her fathers old handset, a keepsake with his final messages from eight years ago.
He was priceless to me, Maggie whispers, voice trembling. Those last texts from my dad I cant lose them.
Ive missed you, Daniel admits softly. Just dont disappear again. Without you, everything in my life feels like its falling apart.
They take their first step toward a shared future, two solitary pieces finally fitting together, determined never to be torn apart again.
