James beams as I step into his living room the next afternoon. His warmth is instant, like sunshine.
“Hi, James! How are you?” I say, leaning down to kiss his cheek. He looks… brighter somehow. Clean-shaven. Healthier.
“I’m all the better for seeing you. Tea?”
“Yes, please.”
He wheels himself to the kitchen, and I swear my heart squeezes a little watching how much progress he’s made.
We chat for almost an hour — life, books, random nonsense. It’s exactly what I needed.
Then he glances over, a knowing smile on his lips. “Matilda darling, tell me my son is taking you to the awards ceremony next week.”
“As a matter of fact, yes,” I say — and his whole face lights up.
“I’m not hisdate,” I add quickly. “He asked me as his assistant.”
The light dims almost instantly.
“I’m assuming you’ll be there too?” I ask, trying to reignite the spark.
“Oh no, he won’t want me slowing him down. Besides, I’m not sure I can get this thing about.” He pats his wheelchair lightly, voice gentle but defeated.
“What are you talking about?” I say, sharper than intended. He blinks in surprise. There’s a flicker of hurt in his eyes — and something else. Fear.
That’s when I realise. It’s not that he doesn’twantto go. He’s scared.
I kneel down in front of him, taking his hands in mine. His gaze flickers between my eyes and our joined fingers.
“James,” I say softly. “I know you’re scared. I know your body doesn’t feel like your own right now. But I’ve seen how far you’ve come — how hard you’ve worked. You’re one of the strongest people I know, and I truly believe you can do this.”
A tear glimmers in his eye before he blinks it away.
“Oh, you’re a sweet girl,” he murmurs, trying to deflect.
“James, be honest. Do you want to go?”
He exhales slowly. “Of course I do. But some things just can’t be done.”
“And sometimes theycan.” The idea sparks like lightning. “Have you ever seenThe Holiday?”
He hesitates. “No… should I have?”
“So, Kate Winslet helps this older writer regain strength so he can attend his award ceremony. They train, they walk, theypractise — and when the big night comes, he climbs the stairs himself. It’s beautiful. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do for you.”
His eyebrows rise, amused and uncertain all at once. “You really mean that?”
“Of course! We’ll start slow — short walks, stretches — whatever you’re comfortable with. It would mean the world to Henry to have you there. And to me.”
He chuckles softly. “Can I think about it?”
“Of course,” I grin. “But not too long. I know how you get when you overthink.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “You know me too well already, my dear.”
And as I watch him smile, I can’t help but think — maybe this family needs a little push.
And maybe, just maybe, I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
