The first sunbeams glanced through chinks in my curtains, dragging me from an unquiet slumber. As the veil of sleep was pulled away, the dreadful weight of real life came with it. Another day in this worthless hunk of flesh, another day of…
No. I stopped that train of thought, remembering my silent oath from the night before. Today was different. Today, I would try.
I steeled myself and took a deep breath. "Clementina?" My voice came out hoarse from disuse.
In an instant, she was framed in the doorway with an expression of concern mixed with wariness. "Yes, Mr. Anderson?"
"I.?" Swallowing hard, my pride got in the way of my words. "I need help getting ready. And. I'd like to apologize. For yesterday. For everything."
Surprise flickered across Clementina's features, quickly replaced by a small, cautious smile. "Of course, Mr. Anderson. I'll assist you right away."
As she helped me through my morning routine, a process still humiliating in its necessity but made bearable by Clementina's quiet Efficiency, I broached the subject I'd been dreading.
"About the caregiver situation," I began, unable to meet her eyes. "I know I've been. difficult."
Clementina paused, buttoning up my shirt. "That's one word for it," she said, a hint of the old dry humor creeping into her voice.
I managed a wry smile. "Fair enough. I was wondering if. well, if anyone is still willing to take on the job."
"As a matter of fact," Clementina said, resuming her task, "we have a promising candidate coming in for an interview this morning. Her name is Alexis Cooper. She comes highly recommended."
I nodded, trying to quell the anxiety rising in my chest. "Alright. I'll meet with her."
An hour later, newly shaven and dressed in clothes that did not make me look like a patient, I wheeled myself into my study. The old surroundings, the mahogany desk, the wall of awards, the view of the city I used to dominate, were both soothing and painful. This had been my domain, the seat of my power. Or it had been, before.
I shook my head, dislodging those thoughts. Focus on the present, Anderson.
A soft knock on the door pulled me from my reverie. "Come in," I called, straightening in my wheelchair.
The woman who came in was nothing like I had expected. Alexis Cooper was young, probably in her late twenties, with warm brown eyes and a gentle smile that put me immediately at ease. She moved with quiet grace; her footsteps soft and confident as she approached my desk.
"Mr. Anderson," she said, her voice low, soothing. "It's an honor to meet you. I'm Alexis Cooper."
I couldn't help but smile back at her, a little tentatively. "Ms. Cooper. Please, sit down."
She took the chair opposite mine, and I spent a moment just looking at her. She was dressed businesslike in a plain blouse and slacks, and her dark hair was pulled back into a bun. There was something about her manner, a serenity, a solidity, that was oddly reassuring.
"So," I began, trying to sound a lot more confident than I felt, "Clementina tells me you come highly recommended."
Alexis nodded. Her smile never wavered. "I have several years of experience as a caregiver now, the majority of which I have devoted to working with clients who have suffered spinal cord injuries. I understand your particular set of circumstances, Mr. Anderson, and I believe that I may be of help to you."
There was no pity in her eyes as she spoke, none of that cloying, syrupy sympathy that had driven me nearly mad in recent weeks. Just quiet competence and what sounded suspiciously like honest compassion.
"And what makes you think you can succeed where others have failed?" I asked, unable to keep a hint of challenge from my voice.
If my tone bothered her, Alexis didn't show it. "Because I don't see this as a job, Mr. Anderson. I see it as a partnership. I'm not here just to help you with physical things but to work with you on regaining as much independence as possible. I'm here to support you, not coddle you."
But she was right; it was more than I'd received from anyone else. For the first time since the accident, someone spoke to me like I was still me, still Davis Anderson, and not just a broken body confined to a wheelchair.
"That sounds. promising," I said. "But fair warning, I am not the easiest man to work with. I'm sure you have heard of my, reputation."
Alexis leaned forward, her gaze steadfast on the man across from her. "Mr. Anderson, I don't put much into reputations. I'd much rather make my own opinions. And what I see is a man who has lived through a traumatic experience, a man coming to terms with a new reality. That doesn't make you difficult. It makes you human."
I blinked, taken aback by her candor. This woman had just met me, yet she seemed to see right through the walls I'd built around myself.
"Well," I said, trying to regain my feet, "that's. refreshing. But let's talk specifics. What exactly would your duties entail?"
The next hour Alexis outlined, everything from physical therapy routines through adaptive technologies that could help me regain a bit more independence, with an intensity of detail and professionalism that even surprised me. She spoke about everything, from mental health being just as important as physical recovery to resources and strategies that would help me deal with the emotional toll stemming from my injury.
Through it all, she exuded an air of quiet confidence, tempered with genuine empathy. At no time did she make me feel pitied or less, than. Instead, she spoke to me as a partner, someone with whom she would be working, not for.
The longer we talked, the more interested I grew than I wanted to admit. "You certainly have given this a lot of thought, Ms. Cooper."
"Alexis, please," she said with a warm smile. "And of course. Your case is. unique, Mr. Anderson. You're not just recovering from a physical injury. You're also trying to maintain your position in a high-stress, high-stakes business world. That requires a specialized approach."
I nodded, impressed despite myself. "You've done your homework."
"I believe in being prepared," Alexis replied. "If we're going to be working together, I need to know everything about your life, not just your medical needs."
There was a moment of silence between us, and I stood at a fork in the road. A part of me, the bitter, angry part operating for weeks now, got ready to find some flaw, some reason to dismiss this woman like all the others. But a smaller, quieter part, the part that had made that silent vow in the dark, urged me to take a chance.
"Alright, Alexis," I said, making my mind up. "I'd like to try a trial period. One week. If we both feel it's a good fit after that, we can discuss a more permanent arrangement."
The smile that lit up Alexis's face was like a shaft of sunlight breaking through storm clouds. "I think that's an excellent idea, Mr. Anderson. When would you like me to start?"
"How about now?" I was somewhat taken aback by my suggestion. "I have a physical therapy session this afternoon. You can come along, get an idea of what the routine's like."
Alexis nodded and rose easily. "I'd be glad to. Shall I get you ready?
As she got me ready for the therapy session, I was struck by how capable she was. Her touch sure but light, her movements practiced and professional. She easily chatted while working, asking questions about my preferences and routine without intrusive probing.
By that time, we had reached the rehabilitation center, and for the first time in weeks, I felt easier. Alexis was a presence that soothed; her quiet competence was a balm to my frayed nerves.
The treatment itself was grueling, as it always was. My face was pouring with sweat in attempts to execute the exercises and my body screamed. But instead of wanting to quit the first few minutes, like in previous sessions, I pushed through today.
Maybe it was the break in routine, having Alexis there instead of Jake. Maybe it was residual effects of my midnight epiphany. Or maybe it was because Alexis just stood nearby, giving soft words of encouragement as opposed to overbearing ones.
"You're doing great, Mr. Anderson," she said, when I finished one set of arm exercises that were pretty hard. "Your upper body strength is impressive."
"Not. as impressive. as it used to be," I panted, fighting for breath.
Alexis dropped to her knees beside my wheelchair and met my gaze. "But it's improving. Every day, every session, you're getting stronger. That's what counts."
It was while catching her warm brown eyes that something in me stirred. A crack in the wall of bitterness and anger I had built around myself. Just a tiny glimmer of something I had not felt in a long, long time.
Hope.
The rest of the day was a blur of activity. Alexis fell into my routine as if she had always been a part of it, anticipating needs to which I wasn't even aware I had. She made subtle suggestions about things that would make my life more accessible: a different configuration of the home office to allow for ease of access, a new type of adaptive eating utensil that would make meals easier to manipulate, she framed them all as options, never pushing.
As the night drew in, I sat in my living room looking out over the city as the lights started to sparkle on. Alexis was moving quietly around the room, cleaning up.
"Alexis," I said, my voice low in the encroaching darkness.
"Yes, Mr. Anderson?" She turned from her work to give me her full attention.
I wheeled my chair toward her, fumbling for words. "I just wanted to say. thank you. For today. It was. better than I expected."
Alexis's smile was soft, knowing. "You don't have to thank me, Mr. Anderson. It's my job, and I'm happy to do it. But more than that, I'm glad I could help make today a little better for you."
She went back to work, softly humming a tune, and I turned back to the window. The lights of the city were spread out before me, a glittering tapestry of light and life. I'd looked out with so much bitterness for such a long time, seeing what I'd lost. Tonight, for the first time since the accident, I saw possibility.
The road ahead would be long and grueling, I knew that. My body was still broken, my future still uncertain, the board still circling and waiting for any sign of weakness. The world outside these walls was still a challenge, still a potential humiliation waiting for me.
But for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I didn't feel alone in facing it all. With Alexis's grounding, her silent strength and unrelenting support, I felt. hopeful. Like maybe, just maybe, I could find my way back to being Davis Anderson again. Not the same man I was before, that person was gone, shattered on the concrete along with my spine. But someone new. Someone stronger, in ways that had nothing to do with physical strength.
With the last light gone from the sky, I made another silent vow. This time, one not born of anger and desperation, but born of that small spark of hope Alexis had somehow kindled in me.
I, Davis Anderson, would rise again. Different, changed, but never defeated.
And with that thought, I allowed myself a small smile, turned from the window, and called out, "Alexis? I think I'm ready for dinner."
The fight was still on, far from over. Yet for the very first time since my fall, I felt ready to get into it. And with Alexis by my side, I felt that I might just win.