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I lifted my head. Eternity was now standing directly in front of me. I didn’t even notice when she had stood from her seat and walked over. Her eyes stayed on mine, and the smart-ass expression she’d been wearing a few minutes ago was gone.

“That’s it,” she said quietly.

I shifted again. My knees felt weak, but they held.

For a few seconds, I was standing between those bars with my hands resting against them instead of gripping them like they were the only thing keeping me off the floor. The physical therapist started counting down. I didn’t listen. My attention stayed on my wife. She was so fucking gorgeous. This was the same woman who had seen me on some dark days. Shit, I saw her on hers too. She was my person, and I had to get right for her. I had to figure this shit out for her. I felt confident in standing, and then my right knee buckled.

My hands clamped around the bars at the same time the therapist reached for me, and frustration rushed through me so fast that I almost shoved the bars away. Before I could, Eternity spoke.

“Don’t.”

I looked at her.

“Don’t you dare act like what you just did didn’t happen because of what happened at the end.”

I breathed heavily through my nose. The therapist nodded.

“She’s right. You held more of your own weight that time than you did on the first attempt.”

I looked down at my legs. They were still shaking, but they held me. Not for long enough and

not without help, but still, they had done it. I finally let her guide me back into the wheelchair. The second I sat down, exhaustion settled over me in a way I hadn’t expected.

I grabbed the towel from my lap and wiped my face before leaning my head against the back of the chair. The physical therapist crouched in front of me.

“That was a good session.”

I gave her a look.

“It was,” she insisted. “I know it doesn’t feel fast enough to you, but your body is healing. Three weeks ago, you needed significantly more assistance just to get into this position. Today you supported more of your weight and recovered your balance when your knee started to buckle. Those things matter.”

I nodded even though I still wasn’t in the mood to celebrate them. She stood and went over a few things about our next session before leaving the room. The door closed behind her, leaving Eternity and me alone. I looked over at my wife, and she was already looking at me.

“Are you proud of yourself?”

“No,” I answered honestly.

“You should be.”

I wiped the back of my neck with the towel.

“I’ll be proud when I can walk,” I admitted.

“You’re going to get there.”

“You don’t know that.”

The words came out harder than I intended, but Eternity didn’t flinch. Neither one of us spoke for a moment. That was the part everybody avoided saying out loud. The doctors were encouraged by the changes they’d seen as the swelling decreased. The fact that sensation and movement were improving gave them reasons to be optimistic, but nobody had handed me a date and promised when I would stand up and walk like none of this ever happened. There were no guarantees. After the silence settled for a while, Eternity finally spoke.

“You don’t know that you won’t walk either,” she continued. “So, if we’re choosing what to believe before anybody can promise us something, I’m choosing the version where you keep doing the work.”

I looked up at her, and she rested her hands on my shoulders.

“You’re allowed to be mad. You’re allowed to hate this. You’re allowed to have days where you’re tired of everybody telling you how good you’re doing when it doesn’t feel good to you.” Her hands moved to the sides of my face. “But you are not allowed to quit.”

“I ain’t quitting,” I said defensively.

“I know.”