Babe… remember I told you I want to live? James said, his voice low but firm.
Juliet hesitated. Yes… I remember.
He held her gaze. I want more than that now. I want to walk.
A pause. Heavy.
You'll take me to therapy… but first, I have to get to the office. I called a meeting for 8AM.
The conference room was already tense when James wheeled himself in. Every head turned.
The ticking clock on the wall felt louder than usual.
The door creaked open. One of his workers slipped in—late.
James' eyes darkened.
You're just coming to the meeting?
Silence swallowed the room.
I don't have legs—yet I got here before you.
His voice sharpened.
But you… you have two working legs… and you're late?
The worker stammered, but no words came out.
You're fired.
The words landed like a gunshot.
James turned away immediately. Take me out of here. Now.
Outside, the air felt different—heavier.
Hey, bro… Collins called, stepping closer, studying him carefully. Your girlfriend told me you're finally ready for therapy.
James didn't answer at first. His jaw tightened.
Then—
Yes, Collins.
A beat.
We'll start tomorrow.
His hands gripped the wheels of his chair.
No more waiting.
Thank you, bro.
Juliet pushed the wheelchair through the therapy room doors, and every head turned.
The air was heavy—thick with stories that refused to be buried.
One after another, voices trembled as people spoke.
"I want to live… for my daughter."
"For my mother…"
"Because I'm not done yet…"
Juliet's grip tightened on the handles behind James.
Then his turn came.
Silence.
Not the normal kind—the suffocating kind that pressed against the walls.
James swallowed hard.
"Hi… My name is James."
His voice cracked, but he forced it forward.
"I lost my only sibling… in an accident."
A pause.
His fingers curled against the armrest.
"…an accident I caused."
A sharp intake of breath rippled across the room.
"I've been carrying that guilt every single day," he continued, his voice shaking now. "I even fixed a date… my birthday… to end everything."
Juliet's eyes widened, her heart slamming against her chest.
"But…" His voice broke completely. "Someone walked into my life… and ruined that plan."
He let out a shaky breath.
"She gave me a reason to stay."
The silence shattered.
Applause filled the room—but it wasn't loud. It was raw. Uneven. Emotional.
James didn't smile.
He just closed his eyes, as if the weight inside him hadn't lifted… only shifted.
—
The real battle began after that.
Every step was a war.
"Again," Collins said, firm but not unkind.
James gripped the bars, sweat dripping down his face.
His legs trembled violently.
"I can't—"
"You can," Collins cut in. "Or you go back to that chair. Choose."
Juliet stood by the door, her nails digging into her palms.
James pushed.
One step.
His body nearly collapsed.
Two steps.
A sharp gasp escaped him.
Three—
He fell.
Hard.
The sound echoed.
Juliet rushed forward, but Collins raised a hand.
"Don't."
James lay there, breathing heavily, staring at the ground like it had swallowed him whole.
Then slowly… painfully… he pushed himself up again.
—
Days turned into weeks.
Pain became routine.
And then—
One morning—
No wheelchair.
Just crutches.
James stood there, shaking… but standing.
Juliet's breath caught.
He took a step toward her.
Then another.
Closer.
Closer.
Until he was right in front of her.
"Babe…" His voice broke.
The crutches slipped slightly as his body trembled.
"I miss my brother so much…"
The tears came violently this time, uncontrollable.
Juliet didn't hesitate.
She held him carefully, like he might fall apart in her arms.
"I know," she whispered, her own voice shaking. "I know…"
She pulled back just enough to look at him.
"But if he could see you right now…"
Her hand tightened around his.
"…he wouldn't see the boy who made a mistake."
A tear slipped down her cheek.
"He'd see someone who refused to stay broken."