Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Captain Maya Bishop’s mind was racing as the team sped toward Grey Sloan Memorial. There had been a blast at the reproductive clinic, and her wife, Carina, was there. She tried calling, texting, anything but she couldn’t get through. Each moment of silence only added to her growing panic.

“What if she’s hurt? What if Maya shook her head, trying to force the thoughts away, but they kept creeping in. The usual calm and confident firefighter was nowhere to be found.

Her hands trembled as she gripped the phone desperately waiting for any news. The sirens blared in the background, matching the frantic beat of her heart.

The engine roared down the streets of Seattle, lights flashing as the team raced toward Grey Sloan Memorial. Every second felt like an eternity. Maya Bishop sat rigidly in her seat, her jaw clenched tight, eyes fixed ahead. Her mind swirled with images of the explosion at the reproductive clinic and the horrifying possibility of what she might find there.

Carina was there. And Maya couldn’t get through to her.

“Bishop, you with me?” Andy’s voice broke through the tense silence, snapping Maya out of her spiral.

Maya forced a nod, though the panic in her chest only tightened. She could feel her pulse in her throat, the fear clawing at her with every passing second. Her team, 19, was prepared for anything—but this was different. This was personal. This was Carina.

As they neared the hospital, the wreckage became visible. Smoke billowed from the clinic, and emergency personnel were already on the scene. The clinic’s front windows were shattered, debris scattered across the ground, and people were being evacuated. Screams and chaos filled the air, but all Maya could focus on was getting inside.

“Alright, we move in as soon as we assess the structure,” Andy instructed, keeping her voice steady. “We clear the area first, then search and rescue. Everyone stick to protocol.”

Maya barely heard the words. The second the truck stopped, she was out of her seat, sprinting toward the clinic doors. Protocol be damned.

“Maya!” Andy called after her, but Maya didn’t stop. She couldn’t. She had one mission—find Carina. Nothing else mattered.

Flames licked at the edges of the clinic, and the heat hit her full force as she approached the wreckage. Two paramedics attempted to block her path.

“Ma’am, you can’t go in there—it’s not safe!” one of them warned, stepping in front of her.

But Maya’s eyes were wild with desperation. “My wife is in there!” she shouted, pushing past them before they could stop her. “I need to find her!”

The paramedics called after her, but Maya was already gone, running into the flames.

Inside, the destruction was worse. Smoke filled the air, and the heat was suffocating. Walls had crumbled, and the floor was littered with rubble. The clinic, a place meant to bring hope and healing, was now unrecognizable—a maze of fire and debris.

Maya’s heart pounded in her ears as she navigated the wreckage. She called Carina’s name, over and over, her voice hoarse and desperate. The sound of cracking wood and falling debris was deafening, but she didn’t care. She had to keep moving.

“Maya!” Vic’s voice echoed from behind her, closer now. “You can’t be in here—it's not stable!” and go and get your mask. Please captain.

But Maya didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. She dodged falling beams, her firefighter instincts battling against her fear as the building groaned around her. She was running on adrenaline, her entire body moving on autopilot as she pushed through the smoke and chaos.

Then she heard it—a faint voice.

“Maya…”

Her heart nearly stopped. It was Carina.

“Carina! Babe, I’m coming!” Maya screamed, running toward the sound. Her boots crunched over shattered glass and burning debris, but she didn’t slow down. She rounded a corner, and there—through the haze of smoke—she saw her.

Carina was trapped beneath a collapsed section of ceiling, a beam pinning her leg to the floor. Her face was pale, her breathing labored.

“No… no, no, no,” Maya whispered, rushing to her side. She dropped to her knees, her hands trembling as she tried to assess the situation.

Carina looked up at her, eyes glassy but relieved. Bambina… you found me…”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Maya breathed, her voice cracking. She glanced up, seeing the flames creeping closer, the building continuing to crumble around them. “I’m going to get you out of here, okay? I promise.”

“Maya, the fire—” Carina started, but Maya shook her head.

“Don’t. I’m getting you out.”

Jack cursed under his breath when he got to the scene but moved to help. “Okay, we lift on three. One, two, three!”

Together, they lifted the beam, grunting with the effort. Carina gasped as her leg and body was freed, and Maya quickly scooped her into her arms, ignoring the searing pain in her muscles. She could feel the heat of the fire growing, the smoke choking the air, but she didn’t stop.

“Maya, go!” Vic urged, helping clear a path as the flames closed in.

Maya didn’t need to be told twice. With Carina clutched tightly in her arms, she ran, faster than she ever had, dodging falling debris as the clinic crumbled around them. The exit loomed ahead, the daylight streaming through the smoke.

Finally, with one last burst of strength, they made it out. The cool air hit Maya’s face like a wave, and she collapsed onto the pavement, Carina still cradled in her arms.

Carina groaned in pain as her body protested the movement. Every breath she took was labored, and Maya could see the agony etched across her face as she gently placed her wife onto the gurney. Carina winced, her hand clutching Maya's arm with what little strength she had left.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Maya whispered, her voice shaking. Tears blurred her vision, but she blinked them away, refusing to let Carina see her panic. “You’re going to be okay.”

A team of doctors from Grey Sloan rushed forward, surrounding the gurney. Dr. Owen Hunt led the charge, his expression intense but calm as he quickly assessed Carina’s condition. “We need to get her to trauma now!” he barked to the team, his hands already working to stabilize her.

Maya tried to stay by Carina’s side, her hand gripping tightly to Carina’s, but the paramedics and doctors gently pulled her back.

“Maya…” Carina’s voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes fluttering as she struggled to keep them open. Don’t… leave…

“I’m right here,” Maya promised, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere.”

But she was forced to take a step back as the medical team started their work, checking Carina’s vitals, setting up IVs, and preparing her for transport into the hospital. The sounds of monitors beeping and urgent voices surrounded them, and Maya felt like she was drowning in the chaos.

Suddenly, her legs gave out, and Maya slumped onto the pavement. A paramedic was at her side in an instant, pressing an oxygen mask over her face. She hadn’t realized how badly the smoke had affected her until that moment—her lungs were burning, and every breath felt like it was ripping through her chest.

“Bishop, you need oxygen,” Andy said firmly. “You’ve been in the smoke too long.”

Maya wanted to fight it, wanted to tear the mask off and stay with Carina, but her body wouldn’t listen. She felt lightheaded, the adrenaline fading now that Carina was in the hands of the doctors. Her body was finally catching up to the toll the rescue had taken.

From her place on the ground, Maya watched as the gurney carrying Carina was wheeled toward the hospital doors. Carina’s hand weakly reached out toward her, and Maya tried to stand, but the paramedic held her down.

“You’ll be able to see her once she’s stabilized,” warren assured her, adjusting the oxygen mask to make sure Maya was breathing steadily. “But right now, you need to take care of yourself, too. Captain.

Maya’s heart ached as she watched the doctors wheel Carina away, her wife’s form becoming smaller in the distance. She fought the urge to tear off the mask and run after them, but her body was too weak, too worn out from the fire and the fear.

Her hand clenched into a fist against the pavement, her mind racing with the same thought, over and over.

Please, let her be okay.

The sound of her own breathing echoed through the mask, and everything around her became a blur of activity—paramedics, firefighters, the chaos of the scene. But all Maya could focus on was Carina, her heart tethered to her wife even as the hospital doors closed behind her.

Maya sat in the hospital waiting room, her leg bouncing nervously as she stared at the clock. Each second felt like an eternity, the sterile smell of the hospital surrounding her. Her thoughts raced, and she kept replaying the moment she found Carina in the clinic, pinned beneath the debris. The sight of her in so much pain haunted her. She needed answers.

Just then, Amelia Shepherd appeared in the doorway, her expression serious but calm. Maya immediately stood up, her stomach tightening with dread.

“Amelia,” Maya said, her voice shaky. “How is she? Is Carina okay?”

Amelia took a deep breath and gestured for Maya to sit down. The heaviness in her eyes made Maya’s heart sink. “Maya, we need to talk.”

Maya’s breath caught in her throat as she sat back down, gripping the edge of her seat. “Tell me.”

Amelia sat across from her, hands folded, her voice steady and professional, though filled with compassion. “Carina sustained significant trauma during the explosion. The debris that fell on her caused a severe spinal cord injury. We’ve stabilized her for now, but… Maya, the damage to her spine is extensive.”

Maya’s throat tightened. “What does that mean? What are you saying?”

Amelia sighed softly, her medical expertise taking over as she explained the situation. “The impact caused a fracture to several vertebrae in her lower back—specifically the lumbar spine. Unfortunately, the trauma compressed her spinal cord at L1, which is the region responsible for transmitting signals to her lower body. Because of this, we’re seeing significant neural damage.”

Maya shook her head, trying to make sense of it. “So, what are you saying about her… about walking? Is she going to recover?”

Amelia’s face softened, and she leaned forward slightly, trying to keep her tone gentle but honest. “Maya, I know this is hard to hear, but with the extent of the spinal cord damage, there’s a high probability that Carina may never walk again. The spinal cord doesn’t heal the same way as other parts of the body. We’re already seeing signs of paralysis in her lower extremities.”

The words hit Maya like a punch to the gut. “No… No, there has to be something. Surgery, therapy… something.” Her voice wavered, desperate for a lifeline.

“We’ll do everything we can,” Amelia assured her, her voice firm yet compassionate. “Right now, our goal is to prevent further damage and make sure she’s stable. There are some surgical options that might help reduce the pressure on her spine, but in terms of regaining full mobility… Maya, the likelihood is very slim.”

Maya felt like the ground had disappeared beneath her feet. Her mind raced, refusing to accept the possibility. “You’re saying she’ll never walk again,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Amelia nodded slowly, her expression filled with empathy. “In most cases like this, patients lose the ability to walk. There’s a possibility of partial recovery, but it’s rare. We’ll start her on a rehabilitation plan that focuses on maximizing her independence, but the reality is… the damage is permanent.”

Maya leaned back in her chair, the weight of Amelia’s words crushing her. Her chest felt tight, her breaths shallow as she struggled to comprehend the enormity of it. Carina might never walk again.

“She’s strong, Maya,” Amelia said softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on her arm. “She’ll need your strength, too. This is going to be a long road—physically and emotionally.”

Tears welled up in Maya’s eyes, and she swallowed hard, trying to keep it together. She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “What… What happens now?”

“We’ll monitor her closely over the next few hours to ensure there’s no further swelling or complications,” Amelia explained. “Once she’s stable, we’ll work with a team of neurologists and physical therapists to plan out her recovery. But for now, it’s important to prepare for the reality that her life and your life together will change.”

Maya could barely breathe as Amelia spoke. The future she had imagined with their plans, their dreams now seemed to unravel before her eyes. But in the midst of her devastation, one thing was clear: Carina needed her, and she would be there, no matter what.

Maya sat in the waiting room, Amelia’s words still echoing in her mind: Carina may never walk again. The shock, fear, and heartbreak were overwhelming, but Maya knew she had to stay strong—for Carina, for their family. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, knowing what she had to do next.

"Andy, I need you to bring Liam and Andrea from my mom’s place," Maya said, her words measured. “They need to be here. They need to hear about Carina from me before anyone else says something.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. Andy, who had just dropped the kids off earlier, immediately understood the gravity in Maya’s voice.

“Of course,” Andy replied gently. “I’ll go get them now.”

Maya sighed in relief, her grip tightening on the phone. “Thank you. I just… I don’t want them hearing rumors or getting scared. They need to know what’s happening before anyone else starts talking.”

“I get it,” Andy said softly. “They’ll be with you soon. I’ll bring them straight to the hospital.”

Maya closed her eyes for a moment, bracing herself for what was to come. She hated the idea of having to sit down with Liam and Andrea and tell them about Carina’s injury. They were young, and their world was about to be turned upside down. But she knew it had to be her. They needed to hear the truth from someone who loved Carina as much as they did, and Maya wasn’t going to let anyone else break that news.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” Maya said, her voice barely holding steady.

Andy hesitated for a second, sensing Maya’s pain. “Maya, we’re going to get through this. Carina’s going to get through this.”

Maya nodded even though Andy couldn’t see her. “I hope so,” she whispered before hanging up.

When Andy returned with Liam and Andrea, Maya’s heart tightened at the sight of them. Her mom, Katherine, had come along too, and as soon as she saw Maya, Katherine pulled her into a tight hug. The comfort of her mother’s embrace was brief but grounding. Katherine didn’t say much, but her presence was enough—a reminder that Maya wasn’t alone, even though it felt like her world was falling apart.

After the hug, Maya looked down at Liam, her ten-year-old, and Andrea, her baby girl, only eight. Liam stood tall, sensing the tension in the air, his face set in a determined, worried expression that was far too mature for his age. Andrea, on the other hand, clung to Maya’s leg, her small hands shaking as she looked up at her mother with wide, scared eyes.

“Hey, you two,” Maya said softly, kneeling down to their level. She reached out to gently touch their arms, trying to steady herself, even though she felt like she was about to break apart. “We need to sit down and talk.”

They followed her to a nearby bench, and Maya sat between them, her arms around their small shoulders. Katherine stood a few steps away with Andy, giving Maya space but ready to step in if she needed them. Maya glanced at both of her children, taking a deep breath as she prepared herself for the hardest conversation she’d ever have to have.

“Mamma very sick,” Maya began, keeping her voice calm and steady, though inside, she was barely holding it together. “There was an accident at the clinic where she was today. She got hurt, and the doctors are taking care of her right now.”

Liam’s brow furrowed, his lips pressed together in a tight line. He didn’t ask any questions, but Maya could see the worry in his eyes. He was always the one to try and be strong, like his mom.

Andrea, though, looked up at Maya with tears already welling in her eyes. “Is Mamma going to be okay?” Her voice was small, trembling.

Maya’s heart ached. She wanted to tell them everything would be fine, that Carina would walk out of the hospital like nothing happened. But she couldn’t lie to them. They deserved the truth, even if it was hard to hear.

“She’s hurt very badly,” Maya explained, her voice thick with emotion. “The doctors are doing everything they can to help her, but her back her spine is damaged. That might mean that… Mamma might not be able to walk again.”

Andrea’s face crumpled at the words, and she immediately buried her face in Maya’s chest, sobbing. “No, no, no!” she cried, her small body shaking as she clung to her mother. “I don’t want her to be hurt, Mom! I don’t want her to be sick!”

Maya’s own tears brimmed at the surface, but she held them back for Andrea’s sake, stroking her hair and whispering soothing words. “I know, baby, I know. I don’t want her to be hurt either.” She kissed the top of Andrea’s head, holding her tightly as her daughter sobbed into her shirt. “But we’re going to be there for her, and we’re going to help her through this, okay?”

Meanwhile, Liam sat next to them, silent. His eyes were wet, but he was holding back, trying to stay strong in front of his sister. Maya could see the weight he was carrying, though, the way he clenched his hands together in his lap.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time, Liam,” Maya said gently, reaching for his hand. “It’s okay to be scared.”

Liam shook his head slightly but then looked down, his voice low and steady. “Is she going to die, Mom?”

The question hit Maya like a punch in the chest. She took a deep breath, fighting to keep her voice from breaking. “No, sweetheart, she’s not going to die. The doctors are taking good care of her. She’s alive, and we’re going to make sure she gets through this, but things might be different for a while.”

Liam swallowed hard, his expression wavering. “Will she still be able to play with us? Like, like before?”

Maya’s heart broke a little more. She squeezed his hand tightly. “We’re going to figure all of that out. Momma will still be with us, and we’ll find new ways to do things together, even if it’s different. But she’ll need us to help her get better.”

Andrea’s sobs quieted a little, though she still clung to Maya’s side, her face streaked with tears. “I don’t want things to be different,” she whispered. “I just want her to be okay.”

Maya kissed her again, her own tears now falling freely. “I know, sweetheart. I want that too. But we’re going to get through this together, okay? We’re a family, and we’ll be there for Mamma every step of the way.”

As she held both of her children close, Maya realized how much strength it would take to guide them through the coming days, weeks, and months. But for Carina, for Liam and Andrea, she would find that strength no matter how broken she felt inside.

Maya held Liam and Andrea’s hands as they made their way down the hallway toward Carina’s room. The beeping of machines, the sterile smell of the hospital, and the tension in the air made each step feel heavier than the last. She could feel Andrea’s tiny hand shaking in hers, while Liam stayed quiet, his face set with a mixture of worry and determination.

When they reached Carina’s room, Maya paused for a moment, gathering the strength she needed before pushing the door open. She wasn’t sure how the kids would react, but she knew they needed to see their mom, even in this condition. Slowly, they stepped inside.

Carina lay in the hospital bed, her body still beneath the blankets, her face pale against the white sheets. Tubes and wires were connected to her, an IV in her arm, and a monitor next to the bed beeped steadily, tracking her heart rate. A neck brace supported her, and her lower body was carefully immobilized to prevent any further damage to her spine.

Maya felt her chest tighten at the sight of her wife like this so vulnerable, so still. She had been prepared for it, but seeing Carina in this state was a different kind of heartbreak. She swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. She had to be strong for Liam and Andrea.

“Mamma…” Andrea’s voice was barely a whisper as she looked at her mother, her big eyes wide with fear. Her little body trembled, and Maya could feel her grip tighten.

“It’s okay, baby,” Maya whispered, kneeling down beside her daughter. “She’s here, and she can hear us. We can talk to her.” She stroked Andrea’s hair, trying to comfort her, though her own heart ached deeply.

Liam stepped forward, his eyes locked on Carina’s still form. He hesitated for a moment, then slowly moved to the side of the bed. His small hand reached out, and he gently took Carina’s hand in his, holding it carefully, like he was afraid of hurting her.

Andrea stayed frozen by Maya’s side, her bottom lip trembling. She didn’t make a sound at first, but then the tears started to silently stream down her cheeks. She couldn’t stop them, and she buried her face in Maya’s arm, her small body shaking with quiet sobs.

Maya pulled Andrea close, holding her tightly. “It’s okay to cry,” she whispered into her daughter’s hair, trying to hold back her own tears as she comforted her. “Mamma’s going to need all our love, okay? She’s fighting to get better, and we’re going to help her through this.”

Andrea nodded weakly against her mother’s chest, still crying softly. Her tiny shoulders shook with the weight of her fear and sadness, and Maya’s heart broke for her. No eight-year-old should have to see their mother like this.

Meanwhile, Liam stayed by Carina’s side, holding her hand with a strength beyond his years. He didn’t cry, but Maya could see the way his lips trembled and the tightness in his jaw as he tried to be strong. His gaze never left Carina’s face, his fingers gently squeezing her hand.

“Mamma, it’s me. It’s Liam,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know you can’t talk right now, but …He took a deep breath, trying to hold it together. “I love you, Mamma.”

Maya’s heart swelled with pride and sorrow all at once, watching her son care for Carina in the only way he knew how. She moved closer, still holding Andrea, and placed her hand on Liam’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“Mamma knows we’re here,” Maya whispered. “She knows how much we love her.”

Carina’s chest rose and fell steadily with the help of the machines, her body still, but Maya hoped with everything in her that Carina could hear them that she knew they were right beside her. That they were all waiting for her to come back to them.

Liam stayed by her side, his hand wrapped around his mother’s. Andrea’s quiet sobs filled the room, and Maya pulled her children close, holding them both as they navigated this moment together. The fear and uncertainty hung heavy in the air, but they were a family, and they would face it all together no matter what.

Chapter Text

After sitting in the cafeteria for what felt like hours, Maya knew it was time for the kids to go home. They were exhausted emotionally and physically and though they wanted to stay close to Carina, the day had been too much for them. Maya glanced at the clock, then at her mother, Katherine, who had been quietly watching over the scene.

Katherine had been patient, letting the kids process everything at their own pace, but now she stood, walking over to Maya’s side. She leaned down and spoke softly, “Maya, maybe it’s time to take them home for the night. They’re completely wiped.”

Maya nodded, though her heart ached at the thought of letting them go. Liam, Andrea, Maya said gently, her voice soft but firm. Grandma is going to take you home now.

Both children looked up immediately, their eyes wide with worry. “No!” Andrea said quickly, her voice rising. “I don’t want to leave Mamma.

Liam, sitting beside her, nodded in agreement. “We want to stay with you, Mom. What if she wakes up?”

I promise, if anything happens, Grandma or I will call you right away. But right now, Mamma needs you to take care of yourselves too.

Andrea shook her head, tears filling her eyes again. I don’t want to go…Maya swallowed hard, her heart breaking at the sight of her daughter’s fear. “You’ll come back tomorrow, first thing. And we’ll be with her again. But for tonight, you need to go with Grandma. Liam, though less emotional than Andrea, was just as reluctant. “Can’t we just stay a little longer? What if she wakes up tonight and asks for us?”

Maya leaned in, brushing a tear from Andrea’s cheek before turning to Liam. “I know it’s hard, but we have to trust the doctors. Mamma’s going to be asleep for a while because she needs rest too. When she wakes up, I’ll make sure you’re the first ones she sees, okay?”

Katherine came closer, her voice soft but insistent. “It’s time, sweethearts. Let’s go home for now. Tomorrow will be another day to see your mother, and we’ll be here first thing in the morning.”

Andrea looked up at her grandmother, then back at Maya, her tears still falling but her resolve weakening. After a long pause, she finally nodded, though it was clear she didn’t want to.

Maya pulled both of them into a tight hug, holding them close for a long moment. “I love you both so much. And I promise, you’ll see Mamma tomorrow. It’s going to be okay.”

“Love you, Mom,” Liam mumbled, before following Katherine out of sight.

As the door closed behind Katherine, Liam, and Andrea, the quiet of the hospital washed over Maya like a wave. She had held it together for so long for Carina, for the kids but now that they were gone, the weight of everything came crashing down on her all at once. The sterile, cold atmosphere of the hospital room felt suffocating, and the strength she’d been clinging to for hours was slipping away.She could feel the panic rising, clawing at her throat, making it impossible to breathe. Her vision blurred with tears, and a small, broken sob escaped her lips before she could stop it.

Maya’s hands shook as she covered her face, trying to will the panic away. But it was no use. The fear the helplessness was too much. She had fought so hard to be strong for everyone else, but now, alone in the quiet aftermath, she couldn’t hold it together anymore.

Her thoughts spiraled, her breathing coming faster and more erratic. Her chest felt like it was being crushed, and she couldn’t get enough air. Tears streamed down her face as she curled in on herself, the panic consuming her. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder, a familiar presence grounding her through the fog of fear. Andy knelt beside her, her voice calm but firm as she spoke.

“Maya, look at me. You’re having a panic attack,” Andy said gently, her hand steady on Maya’s arm. “Breathe. You need to slow down your breathing. “Maya tried to listen, but her breaths were still shallow, her chest tight as she struggled to calm herself. She felt trapped in her own body, suffocated by her own fear.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” Andy continued, her voice steady and reassuring. She took Maya’s hand and squeezed it, her touch firm. “Focus on me. Just breathe with me, okay? In… and out.”

Andy started breathing deeply and slowly, exaggerating each breath so Maya could follow. Maya tried to match the rhythm, but her chest still felt constricted, like she couldn’t get enough air. She squeezed Andy’s hand tightly, trying to ground herself, but the tears kept coming, and the panic wouldn’t let go.

“I can’t… I can’t breathe,” Maya gasped between sobs, her voice breaking.

“Yes, you can,” Andy said softly, her eyes locked on Maya’s. You’re here. You’re not alone. Just breathe, Maya. In… and out.

After what felt like forever, Maya’s breaths became a little less frantic, the tightness in her chest loosening just enough for her to catch her breath. She leaned into Andy’s shoulder, her body still trembling as the sobs finally began to subside.

“I’m sorry,” Maya whispered, her voice hoarse, broken. “I just… I couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

Andy shook her head, her voice soft but firm. “You don’t have to apologize, Maya. You’ve been holding everything together for everyone else. It’s okay to fall apart sometimes. You’re human.”

Maya wiped at her tear-streaked face, her breath still shaky. Thank you,” Maya whispered, her voice barely audible.

Andy just hugged her tighter, letting her know without words that she didn’t have to face any of this by herself.

After Andy helped her calm down, Maya found herself drawn back to Carina’s room. The hospital halls seemed quieter now, the chaos of the day giving way to a stillness that made her heart race with anticipation and dread. Every step toward Carina’s room felt heavier than the last, but Maya knew she couldn’t stay away. She needed to be near her.

When she entered the room, Carina was still lying motionless, her body connected to tubes and machines that monitored her every breath and heartbeat. The soft beeping of the machines was the only sound in the room. Maya approached the bed her hands trembling as she reached for Carina’s hand.

Maya sank into the chair next to her, holding her wife's hand gently, as if afraid to hurt her further. She studied Carina's face pale, peaceful in a way that felt unnatural given the devastation of the day. Maya squeezed her hand, whispering softly. “I’m here, baby. I’m right here.”

For a while, Maya just sat there, listening to the rhythmic sounds of the machines and watching the rise and fall of Carina’s chest. Time seemed to stretch, the world outside the hospital room fading away. It was just the two of them now like it had always been, but everything had changed.

Then, slowly, Maya noticed Carina's eyelids flicker. It was subtle at first, a small movement, but it was enough to make Maya sit up straight. Her heart leaped into her throat. She leaned forward, her breath catching. “Carina?”

Carina’s eyes fluttered open, slowly at first, as if it took all the energy she had to focus on the world around her. Her gaze found Maya’s, and Maya felt a rush of emotion—relief, fear, love, all colliding at once. Carina’s eyes were heavy, groggy from the medication and the trauma, but they were awake. She was awake.

Maya blinked back the tears that immediately threatened to spill over. “Hey, hey,” she whispered, her voice shaky but filled with so much love. “You’re awake.”

Carina’s eyes darted around the room, confused, but they eventually settled on Maya. She tried to speak, but the tube in her throat prevented her from making any sound. Maya reached for the call button by the bed, pressing it quickly to alert the nurses.

“Just hang on, love,” Maya said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from Carina’s face. “They’re going to take the tube out in a second, okay? Don’t try to talk.”

Within moments, a nurse entered the room, immediately noticing Carina’s alert state. “Looks like someone’s waking up,” the nurse said kindly, moving quickly to Carina’s side. “We’ll get that tube out now, Dr. DeLuca.”

The nurse began the delicate process of removing the breathing tube, instructing Carina to breathe as slowly as she could. Maya stayed by her side, squeezing her hand, whispering comforting words while Carina winced through the discomfort.

After a tense few moments, the tube was out, and Carina coughed weakly, her voice hoarse and raw. Maya handed her a cup of water, helping her take a sip to soothe her throat.

“Better?” Maya asked, her voice soft, still laced with worry.

Carina nodded weakly.

Amelia is coming soon Maya said, standing up but keeping her hand in Carina’s as long as she could.

Amelia was calm, but there was an intensity in her eyes, the kind that came with handling delicate cases like Carina’s. Carina, however, wasn’t speaking. Her eyes were open, but she seemed distant, lost somewhere far away. Maya’s heart sank as she stood by the door, watching the scene unfold.

Amelia glanced up at Maya, giving her a brief nod of acknowledgment before turning her full attention to Carina. “Carina,” she said softly, her voice calm and soothing, “I know this is a lot, and I know you’re scared. You’ve been through a major trauma, and it’s completely normal to feel overwhelmed right now. But I need to check in with you, okay?”

Carina’s eyes flickered slightly, but she didn’t speak. She stared at the ceiling, her face pale, her breathing shallow.

Amelia’s tone remained gentle as she continued. “I need to know if you’re in any pain. Can you blink once for ‘yes’ and twice for ‘no’?”

Maya watched with bated breath, her heart pounding in her chest. The room was unbearably quiet for a moment before Carina’s eyes slowly closed, then opened one single blink.

Amelia gave a slight nod, acknowledging the response. “Okay. I’ll adjust your pain medication to help with that,” she said, her voice still soft and reassuring. “We’re going to make sure you’re comfortable.”

Carina blinked again, a silent plea for relief.

Maya’s heart broke watching her wife in this state, unable to do more than blink in response, clearly terrified but too overwhelmed to speak. She wanted to rush to her side, to hold her, but she knew Amelia was doing what needed to be done.

Amelia turned her attention to the nurse who had entered the room to adjust Carina’s medication. After a brief exchange of instructions, Amelia looked back at Carina with a comforting smile. “We’re going to take this step by step, Carina. Right now, the most important thing is that you rest and let your body heal.”

Carina didn’t respond. She was still staring off, her eyes clouded with fear and exhaustion.

Amelia sighed softly, then turned toward Maya. She gestured subtly for her to step outside the room. Maya hesitated for a moment, glancing back at Carina, who was still unresponsive. But she knew she needed to hear what Amelia had to say. With a reluctant nod, Maya followed Amelia into the hallway, the door closing softly behind them.

Once they were outside, Maya’s anxiety surged. “Amelia, what’s wrong? Why isn’t she talking? Is it because of the injury, or…?”

Amelia took a deep breath, her eyes filled with a mixture of empathy and caution. “Physically, Carina’s spine is stable for now, but the trauma she’s experienced—both physically and emotionally is significant. It’s not uncommon for patients to withdraw after a severe injury like this, especially when they wake up to the realization that things are different… permanently different.”

Maya’s breath caught in her throat. “You mean… she’s in shock?”

“Yes,” Amelia nodded gently. “It’s a combination of shock, fear, and the sheer weight of what she’s processing. She knows something is wrong, and even though her body is responding, emotionally, she’s shutting down. It’s a protective response.”

Maya wiped at her face, her hands trembling. “But she’ll be okay, right? She’ll talk again?”

Amelia gave a small, sympathetic smile. “It’s going to take time, Maya. Carina is facing a huge change, Her ability to walk may be gone, and she’s likely coming to terms with that reality. Sometimes, patients need space to process what’s happening before they can fully engage with the world again.”

Maya leaned against the wall, trying to hold back her tears. “She’s so strong, Amelia. She’s always been so strong. I’ve never seen her like this.”

“Maya,” Amelia said softly, her voice serious. “There’s something I need you to understand before you go back in there.”

Maya turned to face her, worry immediately knotting in her stomach. “What is it?”

“I don’t want you to tell Carina anything about her injuries at least, not yet,” Amelia said, her tone firm but understanding. “We need to run more tests to assess the full extent of the damage to her spine before we give her any definitive answers.”

Maya’s heart dropped. “But she’s already so scared, Amelia. She knows something’s wrong, she feels it. How can I just... not tell her?”

Amelia took a deep breath, her gaze softening. “I know it’s hard, but right now, Carina is in a very fragile state emotionally and physically. If we overwhelm her with the full truth before we’re certain of the prognosis, it could push her deeper into shock or panic. I need to perform a few more neurological tests and imaging before we sit down with her and explain everything.”

“So what do I say if she asks?” Maya asked, her voice strained. “What if she wants to know why she can’t feel her legs?”

Amelia met Maya’s gaze, her eyes filled with empathy. “You can tell her we’re still assessing everything, which is true. Reassure her that we’re doing everything we can to help her, but don’t try to explain the injury until we know for sure. I’ll be running those tests as soon as possible.”

Maya felt her chest tighten. Keeping this from Carina felt like a betrayal, but she knew it wasn’t about withholding—it was about protecting her from unnecessary pain and fear until they had a clear path forward.

After hours of waiting and pacing the hospital hallways, Maya’s heart leaped when the nurse finally approached to inform her that Carina was being brought back from her tests. Amelia had assured her earlier that they would do everything carefully, that they needed to fully assess the damage before delivering any news. But nothing could calm the storm of fear that had been building in Maya’s chest.

She rushed back to Carina’s room, taking her usual seat beside the bed. Carina looked more awake now, though still exhausted, her face pale against the white hospital sheets. Maya sat down, taking Carina’s hand into hers, trying to find the words that would somehow make all of this easier, though none seemed adequate.

“Hey, you’re back,” Maya whispered softly, stroking the back of Carina’s hand with her thumb. “How are you feeling?”

Carina blinked a few times, her eyes slowly coming into focus. She seemed to be gathering her bearings, her mind still foggy from the tests and the medication. Then, slowly, her gaze dropped down to her body, her brows knitting together in confusion. Her breathing quickened, and she looked at Maya, panic flickering in her eyes.

“Maya,” Carina rasped, her voice trembling. “I can’t… I can’t feel my legs.”

Maya froze, her heart stopping for a split second. This was it.Her moment she had dreaded. She had known Carina would eventually ask—would eventually feel it—but hearing the words spoken out loud made it all the more real.

Carina’s voice grew more frantic, her hands gripping the sheets weakly. “Why… why can’t I feel my legs?” Her eyes filled with fear, searching Maya’s face for answers.

Maya swallowed hard, her own heart shattering as she saw the panic in her wife’s eyes. She had promised not to tell Carina anything until Amelia had given them the full picture, but right now, all Carina wanted was the truth.

Maya squeezed Carina’s hand tightly, leaning in closer, trying to remain calm for her. “Amelia’s still running some tests to get the full picture, okay? She’s going to come talk to us soon.”

But Carina wasn’t satisfied with that. Her breaths were coming faster now, her chest heaving as the reality of her situation started to settle in. “Maya, tell me,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “Why can’t I feel them?

Maya’s throat tightened, and she blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill. She wanted so badly to tell Carina everything would be okay, that this was just temporary. But she didn’t know if that was true. She didn’t know if Carina would ever walk again, and that uncertainty was like a knife twisting in her chest.

“I don’t know yet, baby,” Maya said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “We’re waiting for Amelia to come in and explain everything. She’s the best, and she’s doing everything she can to figure this out.”

Carina’s eyes filled with tears, her face crumpling as she absorbed the weight of Maya’s words. “I… I can’t feel them,” she whispered again, her voice breaking into a sob. “Maya, I can’t… I can’t feel anything.”

Maya couldn’t hold back her own tears any longer. She leaned forward, cupping Carina’s face gently in her hands, pressing her forehead against Carina’s. “I know, baby, I know,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “But I’m here. We’re going to get through this. No matter what happens, I’m right here with you.”

Chapter Text

Hours had passed since Amelia had delivered the devastating news about Carina’s spinal injury, and Maya had barely moved from Carina’s side. The reality of the situation weighed heavily on her, and though her body was exhausted, her mind wouldn’t let her rest. She stayed by Carina, holding her hand as she slept, silently promising to be there for her no matter what the future held.

At some point, Andy had insisted on going home to grab Maya a change of clothes. She had been in her firefighter gear for what felt like days, still covered in the grime and soot from the explosion, but she hadn’t even thought about herself. Her focus had been entirely on Carina, on making sure she was there when Carina woke up, even if it meant neglecting her own needs.

Andy quietly slipped into the hospital room, carrying a small duffel bag over her shoulder. She gave Maya a soft smile, one filled with understanding and support, as she approached.

“Hey,” Andy whispered, careful not to disturb Carina, “I brought you some clothes and a few things so you can take a shower. I know you probably haven’t had a minute to think about it, but you’ll feel a lot better after you clean up.”

Maya looked up, her eyes tired but grateful. “Thanks, Andy,” she whispered back, glancing at Carina to make sure she was still asleep. “I don’t even know how long I’ve been sitting here.”

Andy gently placed the duffel bag on the chair next to Maya and took a seat beside her. “It’s been a long day,” she said softly, placing a hand on Maya’s shoulder. “You’ve been amazing, but you need to take care of yourself too. Carina’s resting now, and you could really use a break. Even if it’s just for a shower and some fresh clothes.”

Maya hesitated, her eyes drifting back to Carina. She didn’t want to leave her side, not even for a second, but she knew Andy was right. Her body was aching, her mind running on empty. She needed to recharge, even if only for a short while.

“Go ahead,” Andy urged, her voice gentle but firm. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on Carina. I’ll come get you if she wakes up, I promise.”

Maya nodded slowly, her exhaustion catching up to her. “Okay,” she said softly, finally giving in. “I’ll take a quick shower.”

Andy smiled, squeezing her shoulder in reassurance. “Take your time. I’ve got things here.”

Maya gave Carina’s hand one last gentle squeeze, brushing a soft kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered, more for herself than for Carina, who was still deep in sleep.

She grabbed the duffel bag and headed for the hospital’s nearest restroom, her legs heavy with fatigue. When she finally stepped into the shower and let the warm water wash over her, Maya felt her muscles begin to relax, though her mind was still a whirlwind of worry and exhaustion.

When she returned to Carina’s room, Andy was sitting by the bed, quietly flipping through a magazine. She looked up when Maya walked in and smiled. “Feeling a little better?”

Maya nodded, offering a small, tired smile. “Yeah. Thanks for this, Andy.”

“No problem,” Andy said, standing up and handing the seat back to Maya. “Carina’s still sleeping. I’ll stick around for a bit in case you need anything. And don’t worry about work take care of that for you..

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Maya said quietly, looking over at Andy. “Thank you for everything.”
----------
Today, they would learn more about the extent of Carina’s injury, and the weight of that reality pressed down on Maya’s chest.

The quiet of the room was interrupted when the door creaked open, and Amelia Shepherd stepped inside for her rounds. Her

Maya gently squeezed Carina’s hand before standing up, brushing the sleep from her eyes as she turned to Amelia.

“Good morning, Bishop” Amelia said softly, her voice kind but professional. “I’m here to check on Carina, to see how things are progressing.”

Maya nodded, her heart thudding in her chest. “She’s been sleeping most of the nights.

Amelia gave a small, understanding nod. “That’s completely normal. But we’re going to take things one step at a time.” She glanced at Carina’s chart and then back at Maya. “I’m going to do an exam on Carina to assess her sensation and mobility, and we’ll go over everything in detail afterward.

At that moment, Carina stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked a few times, disoriented, before her gaze settled on Maya and Amelia.

Maya immediately stepped closer, taking Carina’s hand again, grounding her as much as she could.

Amelia moved to Carina’s bedside, her expression calm but serious. “Carina, I’m going to perform an exam to check your sensations and reflexes in your lower body, so we can get a better understanding of what’s going on. I’ll explain everything as we go.”

Carina nodded her fingers gripping Maya’s hand tighter. Maya stayed by her side, her heart pounding, but she knew Carina needed her to stay strong right now.

Amelia began the exam by gently checking Carina’s responses to various stimuli. She used a pen to touch Carina’s legs and feet, carefully observing any reactions.

“Can you feel this?” Amelia asked softly as she touched Carina’s foot.

Carina’s face tightened, her eyes full of desperation. She shook her head slightly. “No… I don’t feel anything.”

Amelia moved up Carina’s legs, asking the same question, testing different areas for sensation. Each time, Carina shook her head, her fear growing with every negative response.

“The sensation is very limited below your waist, Carina,” she said softly, but without sugarcoating the reality. “There’s been significant nerve damage in the lower part of your spine, particularly around the lumbar region, which affects your ability to feel and move your legs.”

Carina’s breath hitched, her eyes filling with tears. “So, I’m… I’m paralyzed?”

Amelia took a deep breath, her gaze filled with compassion. “You have paralysis in your lower body right now, yes. The damage to your spinal cord is extensive, and there’s a high likelihood that this paralysis could be permanent. But it’s important to understand that every case is different. We’ll explore every option—surgical interventions, physical.

Carina’s face crumpled, tears spilling down her cheeks as she struggled to process the news. “I… I won’t walk again?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, broken with emotion.

Maya squeezed Carina’s hand tighter, her heart aching as she watched the devastation wash over her wife. “Carina…”

“There’s a chance that you may regain some function with therapy and rehabilitation, but we have to be realistic. Your spinal cord injury is severe, and full recovery is unlikely. But that doesn’t mean your life is over, Carina. We will help you adapt, and you’ll have a team of people—Maya, your family, your friends—who will be there every step of the way.”

Carina’s tears fell harder now, her body trembling. Maya leaned in, wrapping her arms around Carina as best she could, holding her close as her wife sobbed quietly into her chest.

“I’m here,” Maya whispered, her own tears falling now. “We’re going to figure this out. No matter what happens, we’ll do it together.”

Carina’s body shook with sobs, her hand gripping Maya’s as if it were the only thing anchoring her to reality. The weight of Amelia’s words hung heavy in the room, but Maya refused to let go.

Amelia gave them both a moment of silence before she spoke again, her voice calm and reassuring. “This is going to be a long road, Carina. But we’ll take it one step at a time. We’ll focus on getting you the best care, the best support, and the best chance at recovery.”
-----------
Carina was quiet, lost in thought, staring at the ceiling. Her usually vibrant energy was subdued, and though Maya could see the fight in her eyes, there was also a deep sadness. She had been crying on and off, her emotions raw and close to the surface.

"Carina," Maya said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed, " can I give you a bed bath a bath would help you feel a little more refreshed."

Carina didn’t respond at first, her eyes still fixed on the ceiling. "I know you don’t want to feel like this," Maya continued, her tone tender and patient. "But I’m here, and I want to take care of you. It’s just us, okay? No one else. Let me help you."

Carina blinked, and a small tear escaped down her cheek. She turned her head slightly toward Maya, her voice barely above a whisper. "I feel so... useless, Maya. I can’t even—"

"Shh, don’t say that," Maya interrupted gently, brushing a tear from Carina’s face.This doesn’t change who you are. Let me take care of you, just for a little while. You’ve done so much for me, and for everyone else, and now it’s your turn to be cared for."

Carina looked at her, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. After a moment, she nodded slowly, though it was clear she was still struggling to accept her vulnerability.

Maya gave her a small, reassuring smile. "I’ll be gentle, I promise."

She stood up and gathered the necessary supplies warm water, a soft washcloth, and a fresh towel. She placed them on a small tray by the bedside, moving with the quiet precision of someone who knew how to handle delicate situations.

Carefully, Maya pulled back the sheets, exposing Carina’s legs and upper body. She could feel Carina tense up slightly, still uncomfortable with the situation, but Maya kept her movements gentle and unhurried.It’s just me, baby," Maya said softly, dipping the washcloth into the warm water. "I’ve got you."

She started by wiping Carina’s arms and shoulders, using slow, soothing strokes. Carina’s skin was cool, and Maya made sure the water was just warm enough to be comforting but not overwhelming. She worked methodically, washing Carina’s arms, chest, and neck, always checking to make sure she wasn’t causing any discomfort.

As Maya moved down to Carina’s legs, she noticed the stark contrast between her upper body, which still had some feeling, and her lower body, which lay motionless beneath the sheets.

Carina stayed quiet through most of it, her eyes half-closed as Maya gently cleaned her body. There was a heaviness in the air, but there was also a tenderness between

When Maya finished washing Carina’s legs, she reached for the towel and carefully dried her skin, making sure to be thorough but gentle. She then leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Carina’s forehead.

"All done," Maya whispered. "How do you feel?"

Carina opened her eyes fully, her face still filled with emotion but also with a hint of relief. "Better," she whispered, her voice soft. "Thank you.

Maya smiled, her heart swelling with love for her wife. "You don’t have to thank me," she replied, running her fingers through Carina’s hair. "I’ll always be here, for whatever you need. I love you, and we’re in this together."

Carina’s lips quivered again, but this time, instead of sadness, there was a flicker of hope in her eyes. "I love you too,"

Maya leaned down, gently kissing Carina’s lips, her hand cupping her cheek.

When carina fell asleep Maya quietly slipped out of bed where she had been sitting beside Carina. She decided to head to the hospital cafeteria to get something light for breakfast. She knew Carina’s appetite wouldn’t be great, but she needed something to nourish her body something warm and comforting. She avoided the hospital food, it just wasn’t great.

When Maya returned to the room, balancing the small tray with the bowl of soup and a spoon, Carina was just waking up. She blinked sleepily, her eyes finding Maya’s as she walked over to the bedside.

Hi! Maya said , setting the tray “I brought you something to eat. I thought you might like something warm.”

Carina gave her a tired smile, though Maya could see the strain behind her eyes. “Soup?”

“Yeah, light vegetable broth,” Maya replied, pulling the chair closer to the bed. “I didn’t think you’d want anything too heavy just yet. You need to eat something, though, even if it’s just a few bites.”

Carina nodded, though she looked down at her hands, a small sigh escaping her lips. “I can’t even sit up without help.”

Maya reached over and gently touched Carina’s cheek, love. It’s going to take time to get your strength back, but you will. Right now, it’s okay to lean on me.”

Carina gave a small nod, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I hate feeling like this. I hate not being able to… do anything for myself.”

Maya’s heart ached, but she kept her voice steady and soothing. “I know it’s hard. But we’re taking this one day at a time, okay? With gentle hands, Maya adjusted Carina’s pillows, propping her up enough so she could eat comfortably as instructed by link so she doesn’t cause any pain or damage .Then she picked up the spoon, dipping it into the warm broth, and held it up for Carina.

“Here, let’s start slow,” Maya said softly, bringing the spoon to Carina’s lips.

Carina hesitated for a moment, still clearly uncomfortable, she opened her mouth and took a small sip of the soup. The warmth seemed to relax her slightly, and Maya gave her an encouraging smile.

“There you go,” Maya said, her voice tender. “You don’t have to eat much, just a few more sips.”

Carina nodded, letting Maya feed her a few more spoonfuls of the light soup. With each bite, some of the tension in her body seemed to ease, though the emotional toll of the last few days still weighed heavily on both of them.

After a few more sips, Carina leaned back against the pillows, her expression softening. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude but also lingering sadness. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Maya set the spoon down for a moment and leaned in, brushing a strand of hair from Carina’s face. Maya leaned in and kissed Carina’s forehead, her lips lingering there for a moment
-------
Later that afternoon, the hospital room was quiet, with only the steady rhythm of Carina’s breathing and the soft hum of the medical equipment filling the space.

Then, the sound of gentle knocking at the door broke the silence. Maya looked up and saw her mother, Katherine, standing in the doorway with Liam and Andrea by her side. Both children looked hesitant, their eyes wide with worry as they peered into the room.

Maya stood up, offering them a small smile as she waved them in. “Come on in, guys. Mamma’s been waiting to see you.”

Liam and Andrea slowly made their way into the room, clinging to Katherine’s hands as they approached Carina’s bedside. Katherine gave Maya a reassuring look, gently guiding the kids closer.

Andrea, her eight-year-old daughter, was the first to step forward, . She looked so small and fragile in that moment, her emotions bubbling just below the surface. “Mamma,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she stood by Carina’s side. “Are you okay?”

Carina’s heart broke at the sight of her daughter’s tears, but she put on a brave face, reaching out her hand toward Andrea. “I’m here, Bambina she whispered, her voice shaky “I’m okay. I’m so happy to see you.”

Andrea hesitated for a moment, then reached out and took Carina’s hand, her tiny fingers gripping tightly. “I was scared.

Carina’s eyes filled with tears, and she squeezed Andrea’s hand gently. “I know, baby. I’m sorry I scared you.” Her voice wavered, and Maya could see how hard Carina was fighting to hold it together for the kids. “But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Liam stood quietly beside Katherine, his face more composed, though Maya could see the worry etched in his expression. He had always been the strong one.

Maya stepped forward and gently placed her hand on Liam’s shoulder. “You can come closer, buddy. Mamma’s been wanting to see you both.”

Liam nodded and slowly stepped forward, standing on the other side of the bed. He looked down at Carina, his lips pressed together tightly, as though he were trying to hold back his own tears.

“cio Bambino Carina said softly, offering him a small smile.

“I’m okay,” he said quietly, though the sadness in his voice was unmistakable. “I was just worried about you.”

Carina’s heart swelled, and she extended her hand toward him. I’m going to be okay. I just need a little time to heal.”

Liam hesitated for a moment before taking her hand, his grip firmer than Andrea’s but still tentative. He blinked a few times, his eyes glistening, but he stayed strong, trying to be brave for his mom.

Katherine, who had been standing quietly by the door, stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on Maya’s shoulder. “They’ve been worried sick,” she whispered, her voice filled with concern. “But they’ve been strong. I’m so proud of them.”

Maya nodded, her throat tightening with emotion. “Thank you for bringing them,” she whispered back. “They needed this.”

Katherine gave her a soft smile and then stepped back, letting the family have their moment together.

Later in the evening after the kids had spent some time with Carina, Dr."Link" knocked on the door before stepping into the room. Maya and Carina looked up, and the kids, who had settled into chairs beside the bed, turned toward the tall figure in the doorway.

Link smiled kindly, giving them all a reassuring nod before stepping closer to the bed. “He guys he greeted, his tone warm and professional. “I thought I’d stop by and check favorite patient is.

Katherine quickly stood up and gestured for the kids to follow her promising to get ice cream. And once there were out link grabbed the chart from the bedside.

“How are you feeling today?” Link asked as he glanced over her chart, his eyes flicking to the bandages and support devices that had been carefully placed around Carina’s body after the surgery.

Carina took a deep breath, her voice still soft and tired. “Tired. but I’m trying to… process it.”

Link nodded understandingly, pulling up a chair to sit closer to the bed. “That’s completely normal. It’s going to take time, Carina. And I know that’s not easy to hear, That’s what I came to talk about today your leg and overall recovery.”

Carina glanced at Maya, then back at Link, her expression tense. “How is it healing? The fractures, I mean?”

Link leaned forward slightly, his face kind but serious as he spoke. “The good news is that the fractures in your legs are healing very well. The surgeries we performed to stabilize the fractures in your femur and tibia were successful.

Maya felt a surge of hope at Link’s words and squeezed Carina’s hand. “That’s good news,” she whispered, her voice filled with relief.

Link nodded, giving them both a small smile. “It is. From a surgical standpoint, everything is on track. and there are no signs of infection or complications from the surgeries.”

Carina listened intently, her fingers tightening around Maya’s. “But… what about the paralysis? I still can’t feel anything. Is that connected?”

Link took a breath, his gaze softening. “The fractures and surgeries were one part of the recovery process, but the nerve damage to your spine is what’s causing the loss of sensation in your legs. That’s why we’re seeing the paralysis. It’s a separate issue, but they’re linked because the injuries all happened at once.”

Carina swallowed hard, her eyes flickering with the same fear she had been trying to hide since the diagnosis. “So, what happens next?”

“We’ve consulted with Amelia, and we believe it’s time to start physical therapy soon,” Link explained. “The focus will be on maintaining your strength and mobility in the rest of your body and exploring what we can do to improve function, even if the paralysis doesn’t change.”

Carina’s lips trembled slightly as she processed the information, her mind clearly running through the long road ahead. “Physical therapy… but if I can’t feel my legs, how will it help?”

Link leaned forward, his tone compassionate but firm. “Therapy is about more than just walking. It’s about building strength in the rest of your body, keeping your muscles active, and giving you the tools to live independently. Even if your sensation doesn’t return, there are ways to adapt and keep moving forward.”

Maya nodded beside her, squeezing Carina’s hand gently. “You’ll be working with specialists who know how to help you adjust, Carina. We’ll take it one step at a time.”

Link smiled at Maya’s words and continued. “That’s right. You’re not alone in this. The good news is that your leg injuries are healing well, and that’s going to make physical therapy more manageable. Once we get you started, you’ll build up your strength and hopefully get back home soon.”

Carina blinked in surprise. “Home?”

Link nodded. “Yes, once you’ve started therapy and we’ve made sure everything is stable, we’ll work on getting you discharged so you can continue your recovery from home. The hospital is great for acute care, but long-term recovery is often better when you’re in a more comfortable, familiar environment.”

Chapter Text

Carina lay still on the bed, her body propped up slightly by pillows Maya had adjusted for her comfort. The morning sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting the room in soft golden hues, but it did little to ease the tension simmering beneath her skin. Maya was bustling around the room, gathering towels, a basin of warm water, and everything else she needed to help Carina get ready for her first physical therapy session.

Carina’s heart ached as she watched Maya move. There was something in the way her wife’s hands trembled slightly when she reached for the washcloth a hesitation Carina couldn’t help but notice. Maya wasn’t usually this tentative, this unsure, but Carina understood why. Vulnerability had become an uninvited guest in their lives, lingering between them like an unseen wall.

For weeks  now, Carina had been trapped in her own body. The inability to move freely, to feel her legs, had transformed every simple moment into a reminder of what she had lost. But there was another ache a deeper one.

“Okay,” Maya said softly, her voice pulling Carina out of her thoughts. Maya set the basin on the table beside the bed, wringing out the warm washcloth with careful precision. Her eyes flickered to Carina, offering a tentative smile. “Ready to get cleaned up? It’ll help you feel more comfortable for therapy.”

Carina nodded, her throat tight with emotion. “Yes,” she whispered, her accent thicker than usual, her voice betraying her nerves.

Maya stepped closer, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she were afraid of overwhelming Carina. She dipped the washcloth into the water again before starting at Carina’s shoulders, wiping the exposed skin gently. The warmth of the cloth against her body was soothing, but it was Maya’s closeness that made Carina’s heart race. As Maya continued to gently clean Carina’s upper body, her focus was entirely on making sure her wife was comfortable. Every few moments, Maya would pause, “Is this okay? Does it feel alright?”

Carina gave small nods each time, her voice soft and even. “It’s fine, Maya.”

But when Maya moved to clean further down, Carina chest rising with a deep breath as Maya’s hands hesitated at the edge of the hospital gown. The tension didn’t go unnoticed, and Maya immediately looked up, her eyes filled with concern.

“Are you okay?” Maya asked, her tone gentle but laced with worry. “I can stop if you’re uncomfortable.”

Carina’s cheeks flushed, a warmth spreading through her even though her legs and lower body remained void of sensation. She looked away for a moment, struggling to find the words. “No, it’s… it’s not that,” she murmured.

Maya tilted her head, watching Carina closely. “What is it, then? Talk to me, baby.”

Carina swallowed hard, finally meeting Maya’s gaze. There was a vulnerability there, one that she hadn’t been able to put into words yet. “I… I can’t feel anything down there, so it’s fine. You don’t have to worry about hurting me. But…” She trailed off, biting her lip.

“But what?” Maya prompted softly, her hand lightly brushing against Carina’s arm.

Carina sighed, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… it’s still me. And I know it shouldn’t, but it feels strange. Like I’m exposed and… I can’t even… I can’t even do anything about it.”

Maya’s heart ached at the quiet confession, and she placed the washcloth down for a moment, leaning closer to Carina. Her hand found Carina’s, intertwining their fingers as she held her gaze.

“Carina,” Maya said gently, her voice steady and full of love, “you’re allowed to feel that way. This is hard, and it’s okay to feel vulnerable. But I need you to know that none of this changes how I see you. You’re still you still beautiful, still strong, still the woman I love more than anything in this world.”

Carina’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she listened, her fingers gripping Maya’s hand tightly. “But I hate that you have to do this for me. I hate that I can’t

Maya cut her off with a soft shake of her head. “Don’t,” she said firmly but kindly. “Don’t hate yourself for needing help. That’s what I’m here for, Carina. I love you, and part of loving you means being here for you through everything, even this.”Maya gave her a reassuring smile before picking up the washcloth again. “I’m going to be quick, okay? And if at any point you want me to stop, just say so.”

Carina nodded again, her cheeks still flushed as she allowed Maya to gently lift the gown. Even though she couldn’t feel the cloth against her skin, she could feel the weight of her own emotions the shyness, the frustration, the longing to be the woman she once was for Maya.

Maya worked carefully, her touch always gentle, always considerate. She didn’t rush, but she didn’t linger either, sensing Carina’s discomfort and doing her best to make it as easy as possible for her wife.

“You’re doing great,” Maya murmured as she continued, her voice low and soothing. After washing her body, she moved to her hair per carina's request 

Maya leaned over, pouring a small cup of warm water over Carina’s hair, letting it flow evenly through the strands. Carina closed her eyes, the sensation soothing and familiar, as though for a moment, she could forget the weight of her paralysis and the hospital walls around her.

Maya worked slowly, massaging shampoo into Carina’s scalp with tender, practiced movements. Her fingertips moved in small circles, careful not to rush, letting Carina relax under her touch. “You have the softest hair,” Maya said, her voice light, trying to ease the tension she knew Carina carried.

“You always say that,” Carina replied with a soft laugh, her accent thick with affection.

“Because it’s true,” Maya said, leaning closer to press a kiss to Carina’s temple shr  rinsed the shampoo out with another cup of warm water, her mind wandered to how much she missed moments like this intimate, quiet moments of connection where she could focus on Carina without fear or urgency pressing on them. She let the water flow gently, carefully avoiding Carina’s face.

When she was done, Maya wrapped Carina’s freshly washed hair in a towel and leaned back, smiling softly. “All clean,” she said. “How do you feel?”

“Better,” Carina admitted, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. “Thank you, amore. I needed that.”

Once the area was cleared, Maya turned back to Carina, her expression shifting to one of careful focus. “I need to remove your catheter before therapy,” she said gently, her voice steady but cautious. “Are you okay with that? I’ll be quick, and I’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”

Carina’s cheeks flushed slightly, her eyes darting away as her vulnerability resurfaced. “Sì,” she said after a moment, her voice quieter than before. “Go ahead.”

Maya moved with precision and care, removing the catheter as gently as she could while constantly checking in with Carina. “Is this okay?” she asked softly, glancing up at her wife.

Carina nodded, but her lips pressed together tightly. When Maya was finished, she straightened up and placed a comforting hand on Carina’s arm. “All done. Are you comfortable?”

Carina hesitated, her face turning slightly red as she looked away. The question lingered in the air, and when she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. “Do you think I’m gross?”

The words hit Maya like a punch to the chest. She froze for a moment, her heart aching at the rawness of Carina’s question. “What?” Maya said softly, leaning closer. “No, baby, why would you even think that?

Carina’s gaze stayed fixed on the blanket covering her. “Because… because I can’t do anything for myself anymore,” she said, her voice breaking. “You have to help me with everything, even… things like this. I feel like a burden, like… like I’m not the woman I used to be.”

Maya’s eyes filled with tears, and she immediately reached for Carina’s hands, holding them tightly. “Carina, look at me,” she said, her voice firm but full of love.

Carina hesitated, but eventually, she lifted her tear-filled eyes to meet Maya’s.

“You are not gross,” Maya said fiercely. “You are not a burden. You are the strongest, most incredible woman I have ever known. And yes, things are different right now, but that doesn’t change how much I love you, or how much I want to be here for you.

Carina’s tears spilled over as she listened, her chest heaving with quiet sobs. “I just… I hate feeling like this,” she whispered.

“I know,” Maya said gently, leaning in to press a kiss to Carina’s forehead. “I know it’s hard, and I know it’s frustrating. But you are not alone in this. We’re in it together, okay? Every step of the way.”

Maya had just finished helping Carina get dressed when there was a gentle knock at the door. A doctor in a crisp lab coat stepped in, accompanied by a physical therapist who introduced themselves as part of Carina’s rehabilitation team. Their demeanor was professional but kind, and they smiled warmly at both women.

“Good afternoon, Dr. DeLuca,” the therapist said, glancing at Carina before addressing Maya. “And Captain Bishop. We’re here to take Carina to her first physical therapy session.”

Carina’s face paled slightly, a mix of anticipation and nerves flickering in her eyes. Maya immediately placed a reassuring hand on Carina’s arm, leaning in close. “You’ve got this,” Maya whispered softly, her voice steady but filled with love.

Carina nodded, though her hands trembled slightly as the team prepared to wheel her toward the therapy room. Maya walked beside her, her hand resting on the edge of the wheelchair, not ready to let go just yet.

When they arrived at the therapy room, the atmosphere was calm but clinical. Machines and equipment filled the space, along with mats and resistance bands, all designed to assist patients in their recovery. The doctor, a neurologist specializing in spinal injuries, introduced themselves fully before diving into an explanation of what Carina could expect.

Carina! Amelia  began, her tone even and informative, “today’s session will focus on assessing your baseline functionality and introducing gentle exercises to maintain circulation and muscle tone in your lower extremities. Given the extent of your spinal injury, we’ll primarily be working on passive range-of-motion exercises for now, which means your therapist will move your legs for you to prevent stiffness and contractures.”

Carina nodded slowly, her nerves visible in the tightness of her jaw.

The therapist stepped forward, adding, “We’ll also begin incorporating core stabilization exercises, which are crucial for maintaining balance and strength in your upper body. This will help prepare you for using assistive devices, like a wheelchair, more effectively in the future. Everything will be tailored to your comfort level.”

“Will it hurt?” Carina asked quietly, her voice hesitant.

The therapist shook their head gently. “You shouldn’t feel any pain during these exercises, but some movements might feel strange or uncomfortable as your body adjusts. Remember, your nerves and muscles are adapting to new demands. We’ll go slow and monitor everything closely.”

Amelia  continued, “The goal for today is simple: to get a better understanding of your body’s responses and to start preventing complications like muscle atrophy or blood clots. Every step, no matter how small it seems, is progress.”

Carina had started her first physical therapy session with cautious optimism, following the therapist’s guidance as best as she could. The gentle stretches and movements were manageable at first, even though her body felt foreign and uncooperative. She tried to stay focused on the instructions, counting the motions, listening to the calm encouragement from the therapist.

But as the session progressed, fatigue crept in. The exercises became harder to sustain, her arms growing heavy as she struggled to keep up with the therapist’s pace. Her frustration built when she couldn’t maintain balance during a core stability exercise, her body swaying uncontrollably despite the therapist’s attempt to steady her.

The final straw came when she tried to use a wheelchair ramp simulator an exercise meant to mimic real-life scenarios. Halfway up, her arms gave out, her hands slipping off the wheels as she fell forward against the safety straps. The therapist was quick to catch her and ensure she wasn’t hurt, but the fall shattered what little confidence she had mustered.

Tears welled in Carina’s eyes as she sat slumped in the chair, her body trembling with exhaustion and defeat. The therapist crouched beside her, speaking softly. “Carina, it’s okay. This is just the beginning. Falls happen they’re part of the process, not the end of it.”

But Carina couldn’t hear the reassurance. All she could feel was the failure, the heaviness of her body betraying her again. Her voice cracked as she whispered, “I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t.”

The therapist tried again, their tone calm and steady. “It’s normal to feel like this, Carina. Recovery is a marathon, not a sprint. You’ve already done so much today more than most people in your situation. Don’t give up on yourself.”

But Carina shook her head, her tears spilling freely now. “No,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered. “I’m done. Please… just take me back to my room.”

The therapist sighed but nodded, respecting her wishes for now. They helped Carina back into her wheelchair, adjusting her position to ensure she was comfortable before wheeling her out of the therapy room. Carina kept her gaze down the entire time, her cheeks flushed from a mix of exhaustion and tears.

By the time they reached her hospital room, Carina felt utterly defeated. Her body ached, her emotions were frayed, and all she wanted was to curl up and shut the world out.

Maya was already waiting, sitting in the chair by the bed. Her face lit up the moment she saw Carina, but her excitement quickly shifted to concern as she noticed the redness around Carina’s eyes and the droop in her posture.

“Carina,” Maya said gently, standing as the doctors and therapist helped her wife settle back into bed. “Hey, how was it? Are you okay?”

The therapist gave Maya a brief smile. “She did really well for her first session. It’s a lot to take in, so she’s understandably tired.”

Maya nodded, but her eyes never left Carina’s face. “Thank you,” she said politely as the team left the room, promising to check in later.

As soon as they were gone, Maya knelt beside the bed, taking Carina’s hand in hers. “Hey,” she said softly, her voice filled with concern. “What happened?

Carina didn’t meet her gaze. Instead, she turned her head toward the wall, her voice muffled and weak. “I’m just tired, Maya. I want to sleep.”

Maya frowned, her worry deepening. She could tell Carina was holding something back, but she didn’t want to push too hard. “Okay,” she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from Carina’s face. “You’ve had a long day. Get some rest, amore. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Carina closed her eyes, but even as sleep began to claim her, tears leaked out, trailing silently down her cheeks. Maya stayed by her side, her heart heavy with worry. She didn’t know exactly what had happened during therapy, but she could feel the weight of Carina’s defeat hanging in the air.

Maya spent most of the day sitting by Carina’s side, her worry growing with every passing hour. Since returning from physical therapy, Carina’s mood had shifted drastically. Gone was the tentative optimism she’d shown the past few days. Now, she was quiet and withdrawn, her gaze fixed on some invisible point in the room.

Maya had tried everything gentle words, jokes, stories about the kids but Carina barely responded. She hadn’t touched her breakfast, and when lunch came, she turned away from the tray without a word.

“Carina,” Maya said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed, “you need to eat something. It’s important for your strength.”

“I’m not hungry,” Carina replied flatly, her voice devoid of emotion.

Maya took a deep breath, trying to think of what she could do to pull Carina out of this spiral. Then it hit her the kids. Liam and Andrea had always been Carina’s source of light, her motivation to keep going, no matter how hard things got.

Maya pulled out her phone and quickly called her mother.

“Hey, Mom,” Maya said when Katherine answered. “I need a favor.”

“Of course, sweetheart. What’s wrong?” Katherine’s voice was filled with concern.

“It’s Carina,” Maya explained. “She’s having a rough day. She’s not eating, she’s not engaging… she just seems really down. I was hoping you could bring Liam and Andrea over. I think seeing them might cheer her up.”

“Of course,” Katherine said immediately. “I’ll get them ready and bring them over soon. Should I bring some food too? Something comforting?”

“Yes,” Maya said, relief flooding her voice. “Maybe something homemade. She’s not eating the hospital food, but maybe something familiar will help.”

“You got it,” Katherine said warmly. “We’ll be there soon.”

Maya hung up and turned back to Carina,

About an hour later, the sound of excited voices echoed down the hallway. Maya stood up just as Katherine appeared in the doorway, holding a tray covered in tinfoil, with Liam and Andrea trailing behind her.

Mamma!” Andrea cried, rushing toward the bed.

Carina’s eyes widened slightly as her daughter climbed onto the chair beside her, her small arms reaching out to hug her carefully. “Andrea,” Carina said softly, her voice trembling.

Liam was close behind, standing on the other side of the bed. “Hey, Mamma,” he said, his voice quieter but filled with warmth. “We missed you.”

Tears welled in Carina’s eyes as she looked at her children, her hands moving to hold theirs. “I missed you too,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

As the afternoon stretched on, the hospital room began to feel less sterile and more like home. The energy from Liam and Andrea filled the space, their voices bubbling with excitement as they competed to tell Carina everything that had happened since they’d last seen her.

Andrea, perched on the chair beside Carina, waved her hands animatedly as she began her story. “Mamma, today at school, we had this big art project, and guess what I painted? Guess!”

Carina’s lips curved into a faint smile, her voice soft but curious. “What did you paint, Bambina?

“A giraffe! But not just any giraffe it’s a rainbow giraffe! It has pink spots and blue stripes, and it’s eating purple leaves!” Andrea said, her voice rising with enthusiasm.

Carina chuckled softly, her heart warming at the vivid description. “A rainbow giraffe? That’s very creative, Andrea. I hope you bring it to show me next time.”

Andrea nodded eagerly. “I will! But Liam said my giraffe looked like a horse. It doesn’t!”

“I didn’t say that!” Liam protested from his spot on the chair where he was sitting cross-legged. “I said the face looked a little like a horse’s face. That’s all!”

Andrea gasped dramatically, turning to Carina. “Mamma, do you think a giraffe can look like a horse?”

Carina tried to suppress her laughter but failed, the sound escaping her lips like music to Maya’s ears. “I think giraffes are very special, and yours sounds like it’s one of a kind. Maybe Liam just needs to look closer next time.”

Andrea beamed triumphantly, sticking her tongue out at her brother, who rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself.

Liam, eager to shift the attention, cleared his throat. “Well, Mamma, I have something cool to tell you, too.”

“Let’s hear it,” Carina said, her tone light and encouraging.

“We had this science experiment in class today,” Liam began, his face lighting up with excitement. “We made a volcano out of baking soda and vinegar, and it exploded everywhere! But… I might have put in a little too much vinegar, and it got all over the table.”

Carina arched a brow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Oh no! Was it a disaster?”

Liam grinned sheepishly. “Kinda. But it was awesome! The teacher said it was the ‘most enthusiastic eruption’ she’s ever seen.”

Carina laughed, the sound bright and genuine, her shoulders shaking slightly as she imagined the scene. “I’m sure it was spectacular. I hope you didn’t ruin your shirt, though.”

Liam shrugged. “It’s fine. Nanna said it’s just vinegar, and it doesn’t stain. But Andrea’s been making fun of me for the rest of the day.”

Maya watched from her chair, her own eyes misty as she took in the scene. She had hoped that bringing the kids would lift Carina’s spirits, but seeing her laugh, seeing her smile again it was more than she could have hoped for. She then moved around the hospital room to prepare a trey of food for carina..

Maya carefully laid the tray of food Katherine had brought onto the bed table, positioning it in front of Carina with the precision of someone determined to coax her wife into eating. The scent of warm chicken soup and fresh bread filled the room, mingling with the lively chatter of Liam and Andrea as they played near the foot of the bed.

Carina, still leaning against the pillows, gave the tray a tentative glance but didn’t make a move to eat. Maya noticed the hesitation and quickly stepped in, her voice light and playful.

“Well, look at this,” Maya said, smiling at the kids. “You two showed up just in time Mamma was just about to eat, weren’t you, Carina? Carina’s lips parted in mild protest, but before she could say anything,

Carina blinked, looking from her kids to Maya, who gave her a knowing smile. It was a gentle nudge, one Carina couldn’t argue with not when her children were around.

Do you guys want to help her , we're going to save some time for catching up ..

“Yay!” Andrea squealed, grabbing the spoon from the tray.

“Wait, I want to feed her first!” Liam protested, reaching for the bowl of soup.

“No, I’m going first!” Andrea said, gripping the spoon tighter.

Carina let out a soft laugh, her shoulders relaxing slightly as the kids bickered over who got to feed her. Maya stood back, arms crossed, watching with a fond smile as her plan unfolded exactly as she’d hoped.

“Alright, alright,” Maya said, stepping in with mock authority. “One at a time. Andrea, you can start, but Liam gets the next bite. Deal?”

“Deal!” Andrea agreed enthusiastically, carefully scooping a spoonful of soup and holding it up to Carina’s lips. “Here, Mamma!”

Carina leaned forward slightly, accepting the spoonful of soup with a small smile. “Mmm, perfect,” she said, her voice soft but genuine.

“See? I’m a good helper!” Andrea said proudly, passing the spoon to Liam.

Liam rolled his eyes but smiled as he took his turn, carefully feeding Carina the next bite. “So, Mamma,” he said, his tone casual, “guess what? I got a 95 on my math test this week.”

“That’s amazing, Liam,” Carina said, her eyes lighting up despite her fatigue. “I’m so proud of you.”

Carina’s heart warmed as she listened to her kids’ stories, their cheerful voices filling the room with a sense of normalcy she hadn’t felt in days. They took turns feeding her, occasionally squabbling over who got to hold the spoon, but their antics brought a smile to her face a real, genuine smile that made Maya’s heart swell with relief.

By the time the soup bowl was empty, Carina looked a little brighter, her cheeks tinged with color, her shoulders less tense. Andrea and Liam beamed proudly, clearly pleased with their work.

“You guys did such a good job,” Maya said, ruffling Liam’s hair. “I think you might have to help Momma with every meal from now on.”

“Yes!” Andrea cheered, while Liam grinned. And that was enough for now.

Chapter Text

Maya sat in the quiet therapy office, her hands resting on her knees, fingers twitching slightly as she avoided meeting the therapist’s gaze. The room was calm too calm and the subtle hum of the air conditioner only made the silence between her and Dr. Caldwell feel louder. Maya hated how exposed she felt sitting there, hated how simply being in that chair made her feel like she was admitting she couldn’t handle everything on her own.

“You’ve been quiet for a while, Maya,” Dr. Caldwell said gently, her pen poised over her notepad. “What’s on your mind?”

Maya exhaled sharply, leaning back in her chair. “It’s just… a lot,” she said finally, her voice strained. “Everything about life has changed, and I’m just… trying to keep up. Every day feels like I’m juggling a million things, and I’m terrified I’m going to drop something. Or someone.”

Dr. Caldwell nodded, her expression understanding. “That’s a common feeling for caregivers, especially in the beginning. You’ve taken on so many roles since Carina’s accident wife, mother, caregiver, problem solver and it’s normal to feel overwhelmed. But you can’t do it all perfectly, Maya. No one can.”

Maya scoffed softly, shaking her head. “Carina used to call me a perfectionist. I always had to have a plan, had to be in control. And now… now I can’t control any of this. Her voice broke slightly, and she quickly cleared her throat, looking down at her hands. “I feel like I’m failing her. Failing everyone.”

“You’re not failing anyone,” Dr. Caldwell said firmly, leaning forward slightly. “You’re showing up, every single day, for Carina and your family. That’s not failure, Maya. That’s love.”

Maya swallowed hard, her throat tight as she nodded faintly. “But it’s not enough,” she said quietly. “Carina’s still so… distant some days. She doesn’t want to talk, she doesn’t want to eat and that’s fastrating.

Dr. Caldwell’s expression softened. “That’s not unusual for someone in Carina’s position. She’s grieving, Maya. She’s grieving the life she had before the accident, the independence she lost. And grief doesn’t follow a straight path it’s messy, unpredictable. Some days, she might seem like her old self, and other days, she might feel angry, withdrawn, or even resentful. It’s important to remember that it’s not about you it’s about her processing what she’s going through.”

Maya closed her eyes briefly, nodding again. “I know she’s hurting,” she whispered. “I see it in her eyes every day. But sometimes… sometimes it feels like she’s pushing me away. Like she doesn’t want me there.”

“She might feel that way,” Dr. Caldwell said gently. “Not because she doesn’t love you, but because she feels vulnerable. Needing help for things she used to do on her own bathing, moving, even eating can feel like a loss of dignity. And with you, her wife, she might feel like she’s lost the equal partnership you once had. It’s not true, of course, but it’s how many people in her situation feel.”

Maya’s chest tightened at the thought. “What do I do?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “How do I help her without making her feel worse?”

Dr. Caldwell offered a small smile. “Patience, Maya. And understanding. On the days she’s angry, let her feel that anger it’s part of her healing process. On the days she’s sad, be there for her, even if she doesn’t say much. And on the days she’s herself again, celebrate those moments. But most importantly, don’t take it personally. Carina loves you, and this isn’t about your relationship it’s about her coming to terms with her new reality.”

Maya pressed her lips together, nodding slowly as she absorbed the words. “I just… I want her to know that I’m here for her, no matter what. That I’m not going anywhere.”

“And you can tell her that,” Dr. Caldwell said softly. “Remind her that your love for her hasn’t changed, even if life looks different now. But also remember to take care of yourself, Maya. You can’t pour from an empty cup, and if you’re not caring for your own mental and emotional health, it’ll be harder to be there for Carina and your kids.” So next time let’s talk about how you’re feeling..

Thank you,” she said quietly, meeting  eyes with a small, tentative smile.

“You’re welcome, “And remember you’ve got this.”As Maya left the session and back to Carina room  she carried those words with her, a quiet reassurance that even on the hardest days, she wasn’t walking this road alone.

When Maya arrived at Carina’s hospital room, the door was slightly ajar. The murmur of voices drifted out into the hallway, a mix of polite tones and awkward pauses that immediately made Maya’s chest tighten. Something was off. She stepped inside quietly, her sharp eyes immediately scanning the scene.

Carina was sitting up in her bed, her posture stiff, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Across from her were two people Maya didn’t recognize well-dressed in suits that looked too formal for a hospital setting. One of them, a woman with perfectly styled hair and a clipboard in her lap, was mid-sentence when she noticed Maya.

“Oh, Captain Bishop,” the woman said, standing slightly as if to greet her. “You’re here just in time. We were just speaking with Dr. DeLuca.”

Maya barely acknowledged her, her focus entirely on Carina. To anyone else, Carina might have looked composed her face neutral, her expression calm but Maya wasn’t anyone else. She could see the subtle signs of discomfort as clearly as if they were written across her wife’s face.

The way Carina’s fingers gripped each other so tightly that her knuckles were white. The faint sheen of sweat along her temple. The way her eyes flickered toward Maya, not with relief but with a quiet plea for help.

Maya stepped further into the room, her tone sharp and to the point. “What’s going on here?”

The man, who had remained seated, offered a practiced smile. “We’re representatives from the hospital’s legal and administrative departments. We came to discuss the compensation package that Dr. DeLuca will be receiving, given the circumstances of her injury.”

Maya’s jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Compensation package?”

“Yes,” the woman said, her smile unwavering but clearly rehearsed. “Given that Dr. DeLuca was injured on hospital grounds while performing her duties, she is entitled to specific benefits, including financial support, accommodations, and 

Carina’s voice, quiet but firm, cut through the woman’s polished explanation. “I didn’t ask for this meeting.”

Maya’s head snapped toward Carina, her brow furrowing. “They just showed up? She felt her chest tighten further. She turned back to the representatives, her tone cold now. “Did you think to schedule this meeting? Or maybe ask if this was something Carina wanted to talk about today?”

The woman faltered slightly, her confidence wavering under Maya’s sharp tone. “We were under the impression that it was best to handle these matters promptly.

“Promptly,” Maya repeated, the word biting as it left her lips. “She’s recovering from a life-changing injury. Maybe consider that before barging in unannounced to talk about legalities and compensation.”

 We do know that and were here to help The man beside her chimed in, his voice measured. “To start, we’re proposing financial compensation to cover the medical expenses not covered by insurance, as well as a monthly payout to account for any loss of income resulting from her temporary inability to work. These payments would continue for as long as deemed necessary.”

Maya’s jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And what happens if she’s unable to return to work long-term?”

The woman nodded, her polished demeanor unwavering. “In that case, the hospital would extend those payments indefinitely, as part of her permanent disability coverage. Additionally, we’re offering support for modifications to your home, such as wheelchair accessibility, ramps, and other necessary accommodations.”

Carina shifted slightly in the bed, her hands still gripping the blanket. “And what about therapy?” she asked softly, her voice quiet but steady.

“Of course,” the woman said smoothly. “Physical therapy,  occupational therapy, and any necessary counseling services will be fully covered. We understand that this transition can be emotionally and physically challenging, and we want to ensure you have the support you need.”

Maya’s eyes flicked to Carina, watching her carefully as the representatives continued to talk. She could see the way Carina’s shoulders tensed with every word, the way her gaze drifted to the floor, as though she wanted to escape the weight of the conversation.

The man cleared his throat, drawing Maya’s attention back to him. “Additionally, we’d like to provide a one-time lump sum payment as part of the settlement agreement. This payment is intended to cover any unforeseen expenses and provide additional financial security during this adjustment period.”

Maya narrowed her eyes slightly. “And what’s the catch?”

The woman hesitated, her smile faltering for the first time. “There’s no catch, per se. However, we would require a signed agreement stating that the hospital is not liable for any future claims related to this incident.”

Maya’s fists clenched at her sides. “So you’re asking her to waive her right to take further action if something else comes up?”

“It’s standard procedure,” the man said quickly, as though he could sense Maya’s growing frustration. “We want to ensure everyone’s interests are protected.”

Carina, who had remained quiet for most of the conversation, finally spoke, her voice sharp. “And what about me?” she asked, her accent thicker with the edge of her frustration. “Are my interests being protected? Or are you just trying to cover the hospital’s liability?”

The woman’s eyes widened slightly, clearly caught off guard. “Dr. DeLuca, I assure you, we’re committed to providing you with the support you need during this time.”

Carina’s gaze was steady, unflinching. “Then why does it feel like this is more about protecting the hospital than helping me?”

Maya felt a surge of pride at the fire in Carina’s voice, but she could also see how much this conversation was taking out of her. “Enough,” Maya said firmly, stepping closer to the bed. “You’ve said your piece. Leave the paperwork, and we’ll review it when Carina is ready. But this conversation is over for today.”

The woman nodded quickly, standing and gathering her clipboard. “Of course. We’ll leave everything here. Please don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any questions.”

The man followed suit, offering a polite nod. “We’ll give you time to review the documents at your own pace.”

As they left the room, Maya let out a slow breath, her hands resting on her hips as she turned back to Carina. “You okay?” she asked softly, her tone gentle.

Carina exhaled shakily, her hands trembling slightly as she released the blanket. “I just… I didn’t expect this,” she admitted. “I wasn’t ready to talk about money or liability or… any of it.”

Maya moved to sit on the edge of the bed, taking Carina’s hands in hers. “You don’t have to deal with it right now,” she said firmly. 

Carina nodded slowly, her eyes welling with tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Maya leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Always,” she murmured.

The day had finally arrived. The day Carina had been both longing for and dreading. Maya was bustling around the hospital room, carefully packing up the last of Carina’s things into a small duffle bag, while Carina sat quietly in her wheelchair near the window. The sunlight poured in, warm and inviting, but it did little to ease the tension radiating through her body.

Carina’s doctors had gathered in the room not long ago, their faces warm but professional as they went over the next steps of her recovery. She had nodded along as they spoke, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, but the weight of their words still lingered heavily in the air.

“Dr. DeLuca,” one of the doctors had said earlier, his tone kind but firm, “now that you’re heading home, the real work begins. You’ll have physical therapy sessions three times a week, focused on building upper body strength and maintaining mobility in your lower extremities. Your progress will be slow, but that’s to be expected. Consistency is key.”

Another doctor had chimed in, her voice equally calm but clinical. “You’ll also have occupational therapy to help you adapt to daily tasks at home, like transferring to and from your wheelchair, navigating your living space, and regaining as much independence as possible.”

The words had hung in the air like weights, pressing down on Carina’s chest. Slow progress. Consistency. Adaptation. Independence. She had nodded mechanically, giving the impression that she was taking it all in, but inside, she felt like she was drowning.

Now, as the door clicked shut behind the doctors, leaving just her and Maya in the room, Carina finally exhaled, her shoulders slumping. Her hands trembled slightly as she rested them on the armrests of her wheelchair.

Maya noticed immediately. She set the duffle bag down on the chair and crossed the room, kneeling beside Carina so they were at eye level. “Hey,” she said softly, her voice calm and steady. Its gonna be alright trust me.

Carina let out a shaky breath, her eyes darting away from Maya’s and toward the floor. “I don’t know if I can do this, Maya,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “All of it the therapy, the changes, the expectations. What if I can’t keep up? What if I let everyone down?”

Maya’s chest tightened at the vulnerability in Carina’s voice. She reached out, gently placing her hands over Carina’s trembling ones. “Carina,” she said softly, her tone filled with love, “you are not going to let anyone down. Not me, not the kids, not yourself. You don’t have to be perfect at this, okay? You just have to try. That’s all anyone expects.”

They stayed like that for a moment, the weight of the day settling between them. Finally, Maya stood, her voice light as she said, “Okay, let’s get out of here. The kids are waiting for you, and I hear there might be cookies involved.”

Carina’s smile grew a little, and for the first time, she felt a glimmer of hope cutting through her fear. “Alright,” she said softly. “Let’s go home.”

Maya’s grin widened as she grabbed the duffle bag and wheeled Carina toward the door. “That’s my girl,” she said, her voice full of pride.

As they made their way out of the hospital, Carina’s nerves didn’t disappear, but with Maya by her side, she felt just a little bit braver. One step at a time, she reminded herself. One step at a time.The drive home was quiet, the kind of silence that felt heavy with unspoken thoughts. Maya glanced at Carina in the passenger seat every so often, her wife’s gaze fixed on the passing houses, her hands resting limply in her lap. Carina hadn’t said much since they’d left the hospital, and Maya could feel the tension radiating from her, like she was bracing herself for something.

When they pulled into the driveway, Maya spotted them immediately: Katherine stood on the porch with Andrea by her side, the little girl bouncing on the balls of her feet, her excitement barely contained. Liam was nowhere in sight, but Andrea quickly cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Liam! Mamma’s here!”

The front door swung open, and Liam came running out, his face lighting up as he spotted the car. Maya parked and turned off the engine, exhaling slowly before looking over at Carina. “Ready?” she asked gently.

Carina hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line before she gave a small nod. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she murmured, though her voice lacked conviction.

Maya stepped out of the car, moving quickly to retrieve the wheelchair from the trunk before opening Carina’s door. She leaned in, her hands gentle but firm as she helped Carina transfer into the chair. Carina moved stiffly, her face carefully blank, but Maya could see the way her shoulders tensed as she settled into place.

The moment Carina was in the chair, Andrea darted down the steps, her stuffed giraffe clutched tightly in one hand. She stopped a few feet away, her eyes wide with excitement and uncertainty. “Mamma!” she called, her voice bright and full of love, but her feet didn’t move any closer.

Carina looked at her daughter, a faint, strained smile tugging at her lips. “Hi, Bambina she said softly, her voice wavering just enough for Maya to notice.

Liam reached them next, skidding to a stop beside the wheelchair and grinning widely. “Mamma!” he said, leaning down to wrap his arms gently around Carina’s shoulders. “You’re finally home!”

Carina hugged him back, her arms trembling slightly as she whispered, “I missed you, Liam. So much.”

Maya stood back, watching the scene unfold with a tightness in her chest. Liam’s joy was palpable, but Andrea lingered a few steps away, her small face scrunched up with hesitation. She looked at her mother, then at the wheelchair, then back at Maya, as though she was trying to figure out what to do.It’s okay, Andrea,” Maya said gently, crouching down to her daughter’s level. “You can say hi to Mamma baby go on ..

Andrea’s bottom lip trembled, and instead of moving toward Carina, she stepped closer to Maya, wrapping her small arms around her waist.

Carina’s shoulders stiffened  her hands gripping the armrests of the wheelchair tightly. Maya saw the flicker of pain in her wife’s eyes before Carina looked away again, her body withdrawing further into itself. She  placed a steadying hand on Carina’s shoulder. “Why don’t we get inside?” she suggested gently. “It’s been a long day, and I think we could all use some time to settle in.”

Carina nodded faintly, her face still carefully composed, but Maya could see the cracks forming beneath the surface.

As Maya wheeled Carina toward the house, Andrea stayed close by her side, her small hand gripping the hem of Maya’s shirt tightly. Liam followed on the other side, his steps slower now, his excitement tempered by concern.

When they reached the porch, Katherine stepped forward, her smile warm but understanding as she kissed Carina lightly on the cheek. “Welcome home, Carina,” she said softly.Thank you,” Carina murmured, though her voice was distant.

Maya helped her over the threshold, guiding her carefully into the living room. The familiar space was filled with warmth the kids’ drawings on the fridge, the cozy couch with its worn blankets, the faint smell of cookies still lingering in the air but to Carina, it felt foreign, like she was stepping into someone else’s life.

As Maya settled her into place, Carina’s hands tightened on the armrests again, her gaze fixed on the floor. The room felt too big, too loud, too much.

Maya crouched down beside her, her voice soft but steady. “You’re home,” she said gently, her hand brushing over Carina’s. 

Carina didn’t respond right away. When she finally looked up, her eyes were filled with tears she didn’t let fall. “I know,” she whispered.

Maya gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, glancing back at the kids. “Why don’t we let Mamma rest for a little while, okay?”

Andrea nodded quickly, still clinging to Maya’s side, while Liam gave a small smile. “Okay,” he said softly, though his gaze lingered on Carina, worry etched into his young face.

As they moved away, Maya stayed close to Carina, her presence steady and unwavering. She could feel the weight of Carina’s withdrawal, but she wasn’t going to let her face it alone. Not now. Not ever.

Maya pushed open the door to their new downstairs bedroom, stepping aside to let Carina in first. The room was cozy, with soft lighting and familiar touches photos from their wedding, Carina’s favorite blankets, and even a small vase of fresh flowers Maya had picked up that morning. She had done everything she could to make the space feel warm and welcoming, even if it wasn’t where they had originally planned to build their life together.

“This is it,” Maya said softly, her voice breaking the silence as she wheeled Carina into the room. “I know it’s not the upstairs bedroom, but it’s temporary. Just until things get easier.”

Carina’s gaze swept over the room, her expression unreadable. she gave a faint nod. “It’s fine,” she said quietly, her voice flat.

Maya’s chest tightened at the lack of emotion in Carina’s response. She crouched down in front of her, trying to catch her wife’s gaze, but Carina kept her eyes fixed on the blanket draped over her lap.

“Carina,” Maya said gently, her hand brushing lightly over Carina’s knee. “Talk to me. Please. I know this is hard, but I want to know how you’re feeling.”

Carina’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she shook her head slightly. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she murmured.

Maya exhaled slowly, leaning back on her heels as she tried to keep her frustration in check. She wanted to reach her, to break through the wall Carina had been putting up since they left the hospital, but it felt like every attempt only pushed her further away.

“Okay,” Maya said softly, standing up. But I’m here when you’re ready. Always.”Carina didn’t respond, her gaze still fixed on her lap. The silence in the room was suffocating, and Maya felt the ache in her chest grow heavier with each passing second.

Before she could say anything else, there was a soft knock at the door. Both women looked up, and a moment later, the door creaked open to reveal Liam standing hesitantly in the doorway.

“Mamma?” he asked softly, his voice tentative as he peeked inside.

Maya felt her heart clench at the sight of him. Liam had always been closer to Carina her shadow, her little helper, her confidant in all things. He had been counting down the days until Carina came home, and Maya could see the worry in his eyes as he looked at her now.

“Come in, buddy,” Maya said gently, stepping back to let him enter.

Liam padded into the room, his movements cautious as though he was afraid of disturbing something. His eyes stayed fixed on Carina, his small face scrunched with concern. “Are you okay, Mamma?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Carina looked up at him then, her eyes softening just slightly. “I’m okay, Bambino” she said quietly, though her voice wavered.

Liam frowned, clearly unconvinced. He moved closer, standing beside her wheelchair and placing a small hand on her arm. “You don’t look okay,” he said honestly, his tone filled with the kind of blunt sincerity only a child could manage.

Carina’s lips trembled slightly, and she reached out to cover Liam’s hand with her own. Am just tired tesero that’s it.

Liam nodded, his eyes shining with understanding. 

Maya stood back, watching the interaction with a mix of emotions. Liam had always had a way of reaching Carina in ways no one else could, and as much as it stung to feel like an outsider in that moment, she understood. Carina was his person, his safe place, and Maya couldn’t fault him for that not when he was exactly what she needed right now. “Mamma,” he said softly, his voice careful as though testing the waters, “if you’re not too tired… maybe I could help you set up your new phone?”

Carina blinked, her brow furrowing slightly as she looked at him. “My new phone?” she asked, her voice faint and uncertain.

Liam nodded eagerly, the corners of his mouth curling into a small smile. “Yeah! Mom said you needed a new one because your old one got lost at the hospital, and we picked it up yesterday. I figured… I could help you set it up. You know, show you all the stuff it can do.”

Carina hesitated, her gaze flickering toward the nightstand where the unopened box containing her new phone sat. She had noticed it earlier but hadn’t given it much thought, too overwhelmed by everything else. Now, though, the idea of sitting down and doing something as simple as setting up a phone felt both comforting and daunting.

“I don’t know, Liam,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with hesitation. “I’m pretty tired…”

Liam’s face fell slightly, but he quickly recovered, his tone gentle and encouraging. “It won’t take long, I promise. And I’ll do most of the work you just have to tell me what you want on it.”

Carina’s lips twitched into the faintest of smiles as she looked at him. His excitement was infectious, and for a moment, it managed to cut through the heaviness weighing on her. “You really want to help me with it, tesoro?”

Yah .. Liam said brightly, his grin widening. “It’ll be fun! And then you’ll have it all ready to go. We can even pick a cool picture to put on the screen ..

Carina let out a soft laugh, the sound shaky but genuine. “Alright,” she said finally, nodding slightly. “But only if you promise to keep it simple. I don’t have the energy for anything too complicated.”

Liam’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, and he clapped his hands together. “Deal! I’ll go grab it!” he said, darting over to the nightstand and carefully picking up the box.

As he carried it back to her, Carina glanced toward the door, half-expecting Maya to walk in and take over the moment. But the door remained closed, and she realized Maya must have given them space intentionally.

Liam plopped down on the edge of the bed beside her, already peeling back the box’s packaging with careful precision. “Okay, Mamma,” he said, his voice full of excitement. “Let’s do this.”

When Maya stepped out of the room, the weight of the tension with Carina still lingered in her chest. She paused for a moment, exhaling slowly, before the sound of Andrea’s laughter drew her attention. Across the living room, Andrea was standing by Katherine, holding up a piece of paper and explaining something with her usual enthusiasm.

Maya couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She crossed the room and knelt down, scooping Andrea into her arms as her daughter squealed with delight. “Hey, sweetheart,” Maya said softly, pressing a kiss to Andrea’s cheek. 

Andrea giggled, clutching the paper tightly as she looked at Maya with sparkling eyes. “It’s my drawing! I made it for Mamma, but I didn’t know if I should give it to her yet. 

Maya’s heart twisted at the words, but she hid her sadness behind a gentle smile,  Mamma will love whatever you made for her. You just let me know when you’re ready to show her, okay?”

Andrea nodded, her arms looping around Maya’s neck in a tight hug. “Okay, Mommy 

Maya kissed her again, savoring the moment before turning to Katherine. “Thanks for holding down the fort, Mom,” she said quietly, her voice laced with gratitude. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Katherine gave her a knowing smile, placing a comforting hand on Maya’s shoulder. “You’re doing great, sweetheart. Carina just needs time, and so do you. You’ve got this both of you.”

Maya nodded, her throat tight as she whispered, “Thanks, Mom.” She sat down on the couch, still holding Andrea in her lap, and turned her full attention to her daughter. “Okay, baby girl,” she said softly, her tone gentle. “How are you feeling about everything? I know it’s been a lot.”

Andrea shifted slightly, resting her head against Maya’s shoulder as she played with the edge of her drawing. “I missed you and Mamma.  she admitted quietly. “Like before Mamma went to the hospital we’d bake cookies or dance in the kitchen, She doesn’t smile as much anymore. Does it mean we won’t do that anymore ? 

Maya’s chest tightened, but she kept her voice steady. “I know, Andrea. It’s hard for Mamma right now, but she still loves you just as much as she always has. She just needs some time to feel like herself again, and you bake all the cookies with i promise.

“Will she get better?” Andrea asked, her voice small and hesitant.

Maya kissed the top of her head, holding her a little tighter. “She’s already getting better, sweetheart. It’s just going to take some time. 

Andrea nodded, her little fingers tracing the lines of her drawing. “I hope she likes my picture,” she said softly. “I drew all of us together, with Mamma smiling.”

Maya felt her throat tighten again, but she smiled through it, her voice warm and full of love. “She’s going to love it, Andrea. Because you made it, and it shows how much you love her. That’s all that matters.”

Andrea smiled then, her face lighting up as she snuggled closer to Maya,  Liam appeared in the doorway of the living room. He hesitated for a moment, his face serious, before walking over to where Maya and Andrea were sitting.

“Mamma’s getting sleepy,” Liam said softly, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.

Maya gave him a small, understanding smile. “Thanks for letting me know, buddy,” she said gently, setting Andrea down on the couch. She ruffled his hair affectionately as she stood. “You’re such a good helper.”

Liam shrugged, looking a little bashful but pleased. You’re doing great,” Maya assured him, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head. “Why don’t you stay out here with Nonna and Andrea for a little while? I’ll go check on her.”

Liam nodded, and Maya made her way down the hallway to the makeshift bedroom. When she stepped inside, she found Carina still in her wheelchair by the nightstand, her head tilted slightly to the side. Her eyes were half-closed, and her body slumped with the kind of weariness that went beyond just being tired.

“Hey, babe,” Maya said softly, her voice warm and soothing as she approached.

Carina stirred slightly, blinking up at her. “Hi,” she murmured, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

Maya crouched down beside her, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Liam said you were getting sleepy. Want me to help you into bed?”

Carina hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line before she gave a small nod. “Sì,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Maya smiled gently, standing and moving to the side of the wheelchair. “Alright, let’s get you comfy,” she said, her tone light and encouraging.

She worked with practiced care, her movements smooth and deliberate as she helped Carina transfer from the wheelchair to the bed. Carina leaned heavily on her, her body stiff and unsteady, but Maya held her firmly, guiding her every step of the way.

Once Carina was settled, Maya adjusted the pillows behind her back and pulled the blanket up to her chest. She sat on the edge of the bed, brushing a tender hand over Carina’s cheek.

“There we go,” Maya said softly, her voice filled with love. “All cozy now. Do you need anything else? Water? Another blanket?”

Carina shook her head faintly, her eyes already closing as she whispered, “No… just stay for a little while?”

Maya’s chest tightened at the vulnerability in her voice. She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Carina’s forehead. “Of course,” she murmured.

She stayed beside her, holding her hand as Carina drifted off to sleep. Even as the room grew quiet, Maya’s mind remained focused, already planning for the next day. But for now, she let herself be present in the moment, her heart full of quiet determination and love.

Chapter Text

Carina lay face down on the bed, her body supported by the careful arrangement of pillows under her chest and hips, designed to keep her spine aligned and alleviate pressure on her legs. Her arms were stretched out beside her, and her head was turned slightly to the side, resting against the pillow in a way that allowed her to breathe easily.

This position, once unfamiliar and uncomfortable, had become her new normal. A position that was now second nature to her body but foreign to her soul. And this morning, as her eyes blinked open to greet the quiet stillness of the room, Carina felt the weight of it all come crashing down.

She stared at the soft, crumpled fabric of the pillowcase beneath her cheek, her vision blurring as her thoughts swirled in chaotic waves. This was her life now. No longer the fearless, confident doctor who moved through the hospital halls with purpose, no longer the wife who would spin Maya around the kitchen in a spontaneous moment of joy, no longer the mother who could crouch down to hug her children without a second thought.

She felt trapped trapped in her own body, in this bed, in a life that had once felt limitless but now seemed impossibly confined. The smallest movements required effort and assistance, and even the most basic tasks were a reminder of what she had lost.

Her throat tightened, and the tears came unbidden, sliding silently down her cheeks and pooling against the pillow. She tried to suppress the sob that bubbled up from her chest, but it broke free, raw and unrelenting.

It wasn’t just grief it was anger, frustration, helplessness. It was the unrelenting ache of mourning the person she used to be, the person she might never be again. And as the sobs wracked her body, she felt the vulnerability of it all, the fragile, jagged edges of her existence laid bare in the quiet of the morning.

“Carina?”

The voice was soft, tentative, and familiar.
Carina’s breath hitched as she turned her head slightly, blinking through the haze of tears to see Maya stirring beside her. Her wife’s face was groggy with sleep, but her eyes immediately sharpened with concern as she took in the sight of Carina’s tear-streaked face.

Babe !! Maya murmured, sitting up quickly and leaning over to brush a hand gently against Carina’s cheek. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Carina closed her eyes tightly, trying to stem the flow of tears, but the effort was futile. Another sob escaped her lips, and she turned her face away, ashamed of her own vulnerability. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Don’t apologize,” Maya said firmly, her voice steady but filled with emotion. She shifted closer, her hand never leaving Carina’s face as she leaned down to press a soft kiss to her temple. “Talk to me, Carina. Please.”

Carina hesitated, the words caught in her throat. But as Maya’s fingers traced gentle, soothing circles along her skin, the dam finally broke.

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” she choked out, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. “Everything feels so… different, I can’t even sleep like a normal person.”

Her words tumbled out in a rush, each one laced with despair. “I feel like I’m stuck in this body that isn’t mine. And every day, I wake up and it’s the same, this position, this reality. I don’t know how to do this, Maya. I don’t know how to be me anymore.”

Maya’s heart shattered at the rawness in Carina’s voice. She shifted onto her side, lying down next to Carina so their faces were level, her hand cupping her wife’s cheek as she looked into her tear-filled eyes.

“You’re still you,” Maya said softly, her voice steady despite the tears welling in her own eyes. “You’re still the same brilliant, strong, beautiful Carina I fell in love with. This doesn’t change that. Not to me. Not to the kids. Not to anyone who loves you.”

Carina shook her head, her tears spilling over once more. “It’s not the same,” she whispered. “I feel so… broken.”

“You’re not broken,” Maya said firmly, her voice trembling with emotion. “You’re hurt, Carina. And you’re healing. But you’re not broken. You are so much more than your body. And I know it feels impossible right now, but I promise you’re still whole. You’re still you.”

Carina let out a shaky breath, her gaze searching Maya’s as though looking for something to hold onto. “I don’t feel like it,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Maya pressed her forehead gently against Carina’s, her voice soft but full of conviction. “Then let me remind you,” she said. “Every day, every moment, I will remind you of who you are. You’re Carina DeLuca-Bishop. You’re my wife, the kids’ mamma, the most incredible woman I’ve ever known. And I’m going to be here, right beside you, until you feel like yourself again. However long it takes.”

Carina’s sobs finally began to subside, the raw edges of her grief dulling into a heavy ache that settled deep in her chest. Her tears slowed, leaving her cheeks damp and her breaths uneven. She stared blankly at the pillow beneath her, her body still pressed face down into the arrangement of supports that had become her new normal.

Maya stayed close, her hand never leaving Carina’s back, her touch light but grounding. She didn’t speak right away, knowing Carina needed the silence, the space to gather herself. Slowly, Maya felt the tension in Carina’s body ease, though the weight of her emotions still lingered in the air.

“Carina,” Maya said softly, her voice gentle and coaxing, like the first rays of sunlight breaking through a storm. “How about we get up? Start the morning routine. A little movement might help.”

Carina didn’t respond at first, her eyes still fixed on the same spot on the pillow. For a moment, Maya worried she’d pushed too soon, but then Carina let out a shaky breath and nodded faintly. Okay,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying.

Maya smiled gently, brushing a strand of hair from Carina’s face. “One step at a time,” she murmured.

Carefully, Maya moved to help her wife, her hands practiced but tender as she adjusted the pillows and supported Carina’s torso. “Let’s roll you onto your side first,” Maya said softly, her voice a soothing guide as Carina slowly shifted with her help.

Carina let out a quiet sigh as she turned onto her side, her gaze flickering to Maya briefly before looking away again. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her words barely audible.

Maya frowned, crouching down to meet her eyes. “You don’t ever have to apologize,” she said firmly, her voice filled with quiet conviction. “Not to me. Not for feeling what you’re feeling.”

Carina’s lips trembled, but she nodded, the faintest glimmer of gratitude in her expression.

Maya continued, helping Carina into a seated position at the edge of the bed. “Okay, now let’s get you into the chair,” she said, her tone light but encouraging. “Therapy’s in a couple of hours, so we’ve got time to get ready without rushing.”

Carina nodded again. The transfer into the wheelchair was smooth, a practiced dance of support and trust, and when Carina was finally settled, Maya knelt down to adjust the footrests and check the straps.

“Comfortable?” Maya asked, her voice warm. Carina nodded faintly, though her eyes were distant.

“Good,” Maya said with a small smile. “Let’s head to the bathroom and start fresh. Carina exhaled deeply, her lips pressing into a thin line before she said quietly, “Okay.”

Maya moved behind the wheelchair, her hands steady as she guided Carina toward the bathroom. As they reached the bathroom, Maya crouched down in front of Carina again, her hand brushing lightly against her wife’s knee. “We’ll take it one step at a time,” she said softly. “And if it gets to be too much, you tell me, okay?”

Carina looked at her then, her soft brown eyes filled with a mix of exhaustion and trust. “Okay,” she murmured, her voice steadier now.

Maya smiled, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to Carina’s forehead. “We’ve got this,” she whispered, more a promise than a statement. And as the morning routine began, the quiet rhythm of their movements brought a tentative sense of calm. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy, but it was theirs an unspoken agreement to face the day together, one step at a time.

With the morning routine finally completed. Maya had worked carefully and efficiently, helping her through every step from cleaning and dressing to emptying the catheter and adjusting the straps on the wheelchair. Every movement had been gentle but purposeful, filled with a quiet love that Carina could feel but couldn’t quite meet with her own.

As Maya knelt in front of her one last time to adjust the footrests, she looked up, her blue eyes warm and steady. “There,” she said softly, brushing her hand lightly against Carina’s knee. “You’re all set. Comfortable?”

Carina nodded, her fingers gripping the armrests of the chair. “Sì,” she murmured, though her voice was distant.

Maya gave her a small, reassuring smile, her touch lingering for a moment before she stood. “Okay,” she said, stretching slightly as she straightened. “I’m going to take a quick shower, and then I’ll get us some breakfast.”

Carina nodded again, her gaze following Maya as she moved toward the door. “Take your time,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Maya hesitated, glancing back at her wife. “You sure you’re okay?” she asked gently. Carina forced a faint smile, the corners of her lips barely lifting. “I’m fine,” she said, though the words felt hollow.

Maya studied her for a moment longer, then nodded. “Alright. I’ll be quick the soft sound of her footsteps fading as she made her way to the bathroom.

Left alone in the quiet room, Carina exhaled deeply, her hands still gripping the armrests. She let her eyes drift toward the door where Maya had just exited, her gaze lingering on the empty space.

She hadn’t meant to watch her like that. But as Maya moved, her body graceful and purposeful, Carina couldn’t stop the pang of guilt that settled in her chest. Maya had been doing so much too much and yet she never complained, never hesitated, never let Carina feel like a burden. And that only made it worse.

Carina turned her gaze downward, staring at her hands as they rested in her lap. Her fingers trembled slightly, a physical echo of the emotions she was trying to suppress. She felt useless, tethered to this chair, to routines that required Maya’s constant assistance. She hated it hated the weight of dependence, hated the way it made her feel small, diminished.

But most of all, she hated the way Maya’s kindness, her unwavering love, made her feel even guiltier for not being able to meet it with the same strength.

“I should be the one helping you,” Carina whispered to the empty room, her voice breaking.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung to her like shadows. The image of Maya steady, patient, always putting Carina first filled her mind. And with it came the ache of knowing that Maya was carrying so much more than she ever should have had to.

When Carina opened her eyes again, they flicked back toward the door, half expecting Maya to return. She wanted to call out, to say something anything but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she let her gaze linger, following the ghost of Maya’s presence, even as the guilt twisted deeper into her chest.

She felt stuck, not just in her body, but in her own mind a battle between wanting to be strong for Maya and feeling like she’d already failed. She hadn’t even realized how still she’d become, her breaths shallow, her fingers idly twisting the edge of her sweater sleeve. She was lost in the quiet, relentless spiral of what-ifs and why-not’s, of everything she used to be and everything she feared she couldn’t be anymore.

The sound of the bathroom door opening startled her, but she didn’t move, her gaze still fixed on the window. Maya’s footsteps were soft against the carpet as she walked back into the room, a towel slung over her shoulders, her hair damp from the shower.

“Carina?” Maya’s voice was light, but there was a hint of concern threaded through it. Carina didn’t respond. She heard Maya moving closer, the sound of the closet door opening as she pulled out clothes to change into. Still, she stayed silent, her mind too heavy with the weight of her own thoughts to find the energy to speak.

Maya turned, glancing at her wife, and immediately noticed the faraway look in Carina’s eyes, the way her hands were motionless now, resting limply in her lap. She set the clothes down on the bed, her brow furrowing as she crossed the room to kneel in front of Carina.

“Carina,” Maya said softly, her voice firmer this time. Carina blinked, but her gaze didn’t shift, her eyes unfocused as if she was staring straight through Maya.

A flicker of worry passed through Maya, and she reached out, gently placing a hand on Carina’s knee. “babe,” she said, her voice gentle but insistent. “Come back to me.”

The touch jolted Carina slightly, her body stiffening as her eyes darted to Maya’s face. For a moment, there was fear in her expression, as if she didn’t fully recognize where she was or who was in front of her.

“Hey, hey,” Maya said quickly, her thumb brushing lightly over Carina’s knee. “It’s just me. You’re okay.”

Carina’s chest heaved as she let out a shaky breath, her fingers gripping the edge of the wheelchair armrests. “I….I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice trembling. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to zone out.”

Maya’s heart ached at the vulnerability in her wife’s voice. She leaned closer, her hands moving to gently cover Carina’s. her eyes searching Carina’s for some hint of what was going on. “What happened? Where’d you go?”

Carina closed her eyes, leaning into Maya’s touch as more tears escaped. “I hate feeling like this,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “Like I’m stuck in my own head and I can’t get out.”

“I know,” Maya said softly. “I’ve been there too. But you don’t have to stay there. We’ll get through this together, one moment at a time.”

Maya’s chest tightened, but she gave Carina a small, reassuring smile. “I know,” she said. “But you’re stronger than you think. And on the days you don’t feel strong, I’ll be strong for you. That’s what we do we hold each other up.”

Carina nodded faintly, her breathing slowly evening out as Maya’s words began to anchor her.

Maya leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Carina’s forehead. “Let me get dressed,” she said gently. “And then we’ll figure out the rest of the day, together.”

Carina watched as Maya stood and moved back toward the bed to finish getting ready, her heart still heavy but her mind a little clearer. She followed Maya’s movements with her eyes, the familiar sight of her wife grounding her in the present.

When maya was finished her dressing up she wheeled Carina out of the bedroom and into the soft hum of morning activity. The smell of fresh coffee and toast drifted through the air, mingling with the sound of the kids’ laughter coming from the dining area. Maya glanced over her shoulder at Carina, who sat quietly in the wheelchair, her gaze distant, her hands resting limply in her lap.

“Almost there,” Maya said softly, her voice gentle as she guided Carina toward the table.

The moment they rounded the corner, Andrea spotted them first, her wide eyes lighting up as she jumped down from her chair. “Mamma!” she squealed, as she darted toward them.

Liam wasn’t far behind, his half-eaten slice of toast still in his hand as he scrambled out of his seat. “Mamma! You’re here!”

Carina blinked, her head tilting slightly as their excited voices pulled her from the haze of her thoughts. Before she could say anything, Andrea reached her first, throwing her arms around Carina’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to her side.

“I missed you, Mamma!” Andrea said, her voice full of the earnest, unfiltered joy only an 8-year-old could manage. I wanted to come see you, but Nonna said to let you rest.”

Liam stepped in next, leaning over the wheelchair to plant a quick kiss on Carina’s cheek. “Good morning, Mamma,” he said, his tone calmer than Andrea’s but no less affectionate. “Nonna made pancakes. Can you sit with us while we eat?”

Carina’s lips trembled as she looked between her children, their bright, eager faces filled with love and innocence. She forced a small smile, her voice soft as she said, “Good morning, miei tesori. I… I’m here now.”

Andrea leaned back slightly, clutching her giraffe as she tilted her head to look up at Carina. “Mamma, are you sad?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern. “You look sad.”

Maya, who had been standing behind the chair, stepped forward quickly, crouching down beside them. “Mamma’s just waking up, Andrea,” she said gently, her hand resting lightly on her daughter’s shoulder. “Sometimes mornings take a little time, right, Carina?”

Carina nodded faintly, her throat tightening as she reached out to brush her fingers lightly through Andrea’s hair. “Sì, amore,” she murmured. “But I’m happy to see you both. I’ve missed you.”

Andrea smiled brightly, seemingly reassured, and hugged Carina’s waist again. “We missed you too, Mamma,” she said. “Can you sit with us now? I saved you a spot.”

Liam nodded eagerly, tugging at the edge of Carina’s sweater. “Yeah, come sit with us. Nonna says we can’t eat all the syrup until everyone’s at the table.”

Carina let out a soft laugh, the sound shaky but genuine, and Maya felt a wave of relief wash over her at the faint spark of warmth in her wife’s expression.

“Of course,” Carina said softly, her voice steadier now. “Let’s eat together.”

Maya smiled, brushing her hand lightly over Carina’s shoulder before moving to wheel her closer to the table. Katherine, who had been quietly watching from the kitchen, stepped forward with a plate in hand, her own smile warm and encouraging.

“Good morning, Carina,” she said softly, setting the plate down in front of her. “The kids insisted I make pancakes this morning. They even helped stir the batter.”

Carina looked up at her mother-in-law, her smile growing slightly. “Thank you, Katherine,” she said, her voice sincere despite the lingering tiredness in her tone.

As the kids climbed back into their seats, chattering excitedly about syrup and sprinkles, Maya leaned down to kiss Carina’s temple. “Take your time,” she whispered. “You’re doing great.”

After breakfast, Maya moved efficiently, guiding the morning along as she loaded everyone into the car. Andrea, as usual, was full of energy, bouncing ahead of everyone while Liam trailed behind with his backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. Carina sat quietly in her wheelchair by the door, watching as Maya helped the kids climb into the car.

Maya turned back to Carina and gave her a soft smile. “Ready?

Carina nodded silently, letting Maya help her into the passenger seat. Once she was buckled in and comfortable, Maya returned to stow the wheelchair in the trunk, the familiar routine calming her even as she felt the undercurrent of Carina’s continued distraction.

By the time Maya climbed into the driver’s seat, Andrea had already started talking fast and full of excitement. She wasn’t seated properly yet, leaning forward between the front seats to show Liam something on her hands.

“Look, Liam! I made a bracelet for Mr. Snuffles! Isn’t it so pretty?” Andrea chirped, holding up her arm, where a bright string of mismatched beads dangled.

Liam groaned, leaning away from her. “Andrea, sit down! You’re going to get in trouble.”

Andrea protested, still leaning forward. “I just wanted to show you.

Andy Maya said firmly, her voice cutting through the chaos as she glanced in the rearview mirror. “Sit down and put on your seatbelt. Now.”

“But Mommy”

“No buts,” Maya interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Seatbelt. Now.”

Andrea huffed dramatically but flopped back into her seat, crossing her arms as she clicked her seatbelt into place. “Fine,” she muttered, her tone full of exaggerated indignation.

“Thank you,” Maya said, her voice calm but firm as she shifted the car into gear and began to pull out of the driveway.

In the passenger seat, Carina remained quiet, her gaze fixed on the window as the houses and trees blurred past. Maya glanced at her briefly, noting the faraway look in her eyes, the way her hands rested limply in her lap.

“As soon as the car pulled up to the school drop-off zone, Liam was out of his seatbelt and bolting out of the car. But instead of heading straight toward the building, he ran to Maya’s window, his face alight with excitement.

“Mom! Mom!” he exclaimed, motioning for her to roll the window down.

Maya chuckled softly, pressing the button to lower the glass. “What’s up, buddy? You’re supposed to be going to class.”

Liam leaned against the door, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I forgot to tell you! My soccer game got moved to Friday! It’s at 4:00, not Saturday morning anymore. Can you still come?”

Maya smiled at his enthusiasm, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “Of course, I’ll be there. Don’t worry.”

“Okay, good!” Liam grinned, his relief palpable. “Don’t forget!”

“I won’t,” Maya promised, her tone warm. “Now go, or you’ll be late.”

Liam nodded eagerly, but before he turned to run toward the school, he jogged around the front of the car to the passenger side. He stopped by Carina’s window, which Maya had rolled down just in time.

“Mamma,” Liam said softly, leaning in close. “Bye! I’ll see you after school.

Carina turned to him, her lips curving into a soft smile that was tinged with sadness. “Have a good day, tesoro,” she said gently, leaning toward him as he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

“Love you, Mamma!” Liam said brightly before darting toward the school building, his backpack bouncing as he ran.

Carina watched him go, her gaze lingering on his small figure as he disappeared into the crowd of students. A faint sigh escaped her lips, her hand brushing against the edge of her wheelchair as she leaned back.

Meanwhile, Andrea, still stewing in her earlier frustration, climbed out of the car without a word. she walked briskly toward the school without looking back.

Maya called after her, her tone a mix of concern and firmness. “Andrea, don’t forget to say goodbye!”

Andrea hesitated for a moment but didn’t turn around. Instead, she mumbled something under her breath and kept walking, her little shoulders hunched as she disappeared into the building.

Maya sighed, her fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “Well, that went well,” she muttered, more to herself than to Carina.

Carina turned to her, her gaze soft but thoughtful. “She’s upset,” she said quietly. “She’ll come around.”

“I know,” Maya said, exhaling deeply as she rolled up the windows and shifted the car into gear. “She just hates not getting her way sometimes.”

Carina gave a faint nod, her eyes drifting back to the window. “She’s like you,” she murmured, her voice so soft that Maya almost missed it.

Maya glanced at her, a small, wry smile tugging at her lips, She’ll be okay,” Maya said softly. “And so will we.”

The drive to Grey Sloan was quiet, the only sound coming from the soft hum of the engine as Maya navigated the familiar streets. Carina sat silently in the passenger seat, her gaze fixed on the blur of trees and buildings outside the window. Maya glanced at her occasionally, her concern growing with each passing moment of silence, but she didn’t push. Carina’s energy seemed drained, her usual spark dimmed, and Maya knew better than to force a conversation.

When they pulled into the hospital parking lot, Maya parked the car in their usual spot and turned to Carina with a gentle smile. “We’re here,” she said softly.

Carina blinked as if snapping out of a daze, her head turning slowly to face Maya. She nodded faintly but didn’t move right away, her fingers tightening slightly on the edge of her sweater.

Maya stepped out of the car, quickly moving to the passenger side to help. She opened the door, crouching down to meet Carina’s eyes. “Take your time,” she said, her voice calm and steady.

Carina nodded again, her movements slow and deliberate as she allowed Maya to help her transfer into the wheelchair. Once she was settled, Maya adjusted the footrests and brushed a stray strand of hair from Carina’s face.

“You’re meeting Dr. Harris today, right?” Maya asked, referring to Carina’s therapist.

“Sì,” Carina murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Maya crouched in front of her, her hands resting lightly on Carina’s knees. “I’ll be right here when you’re done,” she said, her tone filled with quiet reassurance. “If you need me, just ask them to come get me, okay?”

Carina hesitated, her eyes flickering to Maya’s before darting away. “You’re not coming in?” she asked softly.

Maya shook her head gently, her smile reassuring. “No, This time is for you. I’ll wait in the car so you have some privacy to talk about whatever you need to.”

Carina’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded, her gaze dropping to her lap. “Okay,” she whispered.

Maya reached out, squeezing her hands gently. “You’re going to do great,” she said, her voice full of quiet conviction.

Carina’s throat tightened, but she managed a small nod, her fingers brushing lightly against Maya’s as she exhaled shakily.

Maya stood, wheeling Carina toward the therapy entrance. The automatic doors slid open with a soft hiss, and the receptionist greeted them warmly, already recognizing Carina from previous visits.

“Dr. Harris is expecting you,” the receptionist said with a kind smile, gesturing toward the therapy wing.

Maya leaned down, pressing a kiss to Carina’s temple. “I’ll be waiting in the car,” she said softly. “Take your time.”

Carina nodded, her eyes glistening as she gave Maya a faint, fleeting smile. “Grazie,” she whispered.

Maya watched as the receptionist wheeled Carina toward the therapy room, her heart heavy but hopeful. As the doors closed behind them, Maya turned and made her way back to the car, settling into the driver’s seat with a deep exhale.

She rested her head against the steering wheel for a moment, her mind racing with thoughts of Carina. She hoped, more than anything, that this session would help, that Carina would find a glimmer of peace in the midst of everything.

Carina was wheeled into the softly lit office, her eyes drifting over the calming decor. Pale blue walls, a plush rug, and shelves lined with books gave the space a welcoming feel. It wasn’t clinical, but she could still feel the weight of where she waswhat it symbolized. Therapy. A place where she was supposed to open up and talk about the things she didn’t even want to admit to herself.

Dr. Harris stood as Carina entered, a warm smile on her face. She was a petite woman with kind eyes and an air of calm that immediately filled the room. “Good morning, Dr. DeLuca,” she said, extending a hand.

“Carina,” she corrected softly, shaking Harris’s hand.

“Carina,” Harris repeated with a nod. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Harris, and I work primarily with patients who’ve experienced trauma.”

At that, Carina stiffened slightly, her hands gripping the armrests of her wheelchair. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she looked away, her jaw tightening.

“I’m not traumatized,” she said quickly, her accent thickening slightly as she bit out the words.

Dr. Harris raised a brow, her expression gentle but probing. She gestured for Carina to wheel herself forward or to allow Harris to assist. Carina hesitated but moved forward on her own, stopping just before the comfortable armchair across from Harris’s desk.

“Not traumatized,” Harris echoed, her tone calm and measured. She sat down in the chair across from Carina, folding her hands in her lap. “Alright. what would you call it?”

Carina glanced at her sharply, her eyes narrowing as if Harris had struck a nerve. She looked away, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. “I don’t know,” she muttered under her breath, though the frustration in her voice was unmistakable. “I’m just… not myself. That’s all.”

Harris tilted her head slightly, watching Carina carefully. “Not yourself,” she repeated. “That’s interesting. Who do you think you are now, if not yourself?”

Carina’s throat tightened, and she let out a harsh breath, her gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. “I don’t know,” she said again, her voice sharper this time, almost defensive. “But it’s not… it’s not trauma. It’s just…” She trailed off, her jaw clenching as her eyes darted toward the window, avoiding Harris’s gaze.

Harris leaned forward slightly, her voice softening. “It’s okay if you don’t have the words yet,” she said gently. “Sometimes, it takes time to figure out exactly what we’re feeling.”

Carina let out a bitter laugh, though it lacked any real humor. “I know what I’m feeling,” she said, her voice tight. “I’m angry. I’m frustrated. I’m…” Her voice broke, and she swallowed hard, her eyes glistening as she tried to steady herself. “I’m stuck.”

“Stuck,” Harris repeated, her tone thoughtful. “That’s a heavy word. Can you tell me more about what that feels like for you?”

Carina’s hands clenched into fists in her lap, her knuckles white. She shook her head, her voice trembling as she said, “It feels like I’m trapped in a body that doesn’t work. Like every part of my life has changed, and I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t get to say no. And now… now, I don’t even recognize myself anymore.”

Her voice broke on the last word, and tears slipped down her cheeks before she could stop them. She turned her head sharply, wiping at her face with the back of her hand as if embarrassed by her own vulnerability.

Harris didn’t push. She let the silence settle for a moment before speaking again, her voice calm and even. “That sounds incredibly difficult, Carina,” she said gently. “And I want you to know that it’s okay to feel everything you’re feeling. The anger, the frustration, the loss it’s all valid.”

Carina sniffled, her shoulders trembling as she tried to pull herself together. “I hate this,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I hate needing help. I hate feeling so… weak.”

Carina let out a shaky breath, her tears still falling as she met Harris’s gaze. “It doesn’t feel that way,” she said softly.

“I know,” Harris said, her voice filled with understanding. “But strength isn’t about feeling okay all the time. It’s about showing up, even when it’s hard. And that’s exactly what you’re doing right now.”

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap, heavy and sharp, cutting through the gentle calm of the office. Carina’s voice had cracked when she said it, trembling with a mix of frustration and raw, unfiltered pain. Her chest heaved as she stared at the floor, her hands clenched tightly around the armrests of her wheelchair, her knuckles white.

“I just… I just don’t want to do this anymore!” she cried, her Italian accent thickening with emotion. “I can’t. I don’t even want to be here. I want Her voice broke, and she bit her lip hard, the tears streaming down her face betraying her attempt to hold it together. “I don’t want to live anymore.

Dr. Harris sat back slightly, her calm exterior unshaken, though her eyes softened with deep concern. She didn’t react immediately—didn’t rush to speak, didn’t interrupt. She let the words settle, gave them space, because she knew how fragile this moment was.

Dr. Harris leaned forward, her voice calm but firm as she broke the silence. “Carina, this insist the end of the world, its going to be okay.

Carina lifted her tear-streaked face, her eyes wide and filled with anguish. “How can it be okay?” she demanded, her voice sharp and strained. “I’m saying I want to die, and you’re telling me it’s okay?“I don’t want to be here anymore,” she said suddenly, her voice sharp and trembling as she avoided Dr. Harris’s gaze.

Harris’s calm expression didn’t waver. “Carina,” she said gently, her tone careful, “we can stop for today if this feels like too much. But….

“No,” Carina interrupted, her voice louder now, more frantic. “I mean here. In this room. I want to leave. Open the door.”

Her eyes flicked to the door, her chest heaving as her frustration built. She didn’t care about the session, about the process, about the promises of help or healing. All she wanted was to get out, to escape the suffocating weight of everything she’d just admitted.

Dr. Harris stayed where she was, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she watched Carina with a steady gaze. “You can leave whenever you’d like,” she said calmly. “You’re not trapped here but just breath for a second.

“I don’t want to take a breath!” Carina snapped, her voice rising as her hands gripped the wheels of her chair. “I want to leave. Open the door!”

Her Italian accent thickened with her frustration, her voice cracking as she tried to wrest back some semblance of control. She glared at Harris, expecting her to move, to comply, to do something.

But Harris didn’t move. She simply sat there, her expression unreadable, her calmness unshaken in the face of Carina’s growing anger.

That only made Carina feel more out of control. “Why are you just sitting there?” she demanded, her voice breaking. “I said I want to leave! Do you want me to beg?”

Harris shook her head gently, her voice even. “No, Carina. I don’t want you to beg. I want you to feel in control of your choices. If you’re ready to leave, the door is right there.”

Carina froze for a moment, her lips parting as the words registered. She felt a fresh wave of anger rise in her chest at Harris’s calmness, at her refusal to react, at the situation that had brought her here in the first place. Without another word, Carina gripped the wheels of her chair tightly and turned herself toward the door.

Her movements were jerky, uncoordinated, as she wheeled herself forward. The door seemed impossibly far, but she reached it, her frustration driving her. She reached up, fumbling with the handle for a moment before finally managing to twist it open.

The door creaked as it swung outward, and Carina didn’t look back. She pushed herself out into the hallway, the sound of her chair’s wheels echoing in the quiet space.

Harris stayed seated, her expression still calm but with a flicker of concern in her eyes. She didn’t call after Carina, didn’t try to stop her. Instead, she let her go, knowing that sometimes, leaving was part of the process too.

Chapter Text

The hallway felt quieter than it should have, the soft hum of fluorescent lights overhead doing little to calm Carina as she wheeled herself toward the exit. The session had been heavy heavier than she had expected. Her emotions felt raw and exposed, like a nerve that had been poked and prodded, leaving her with an ache she couldn’t quite name. She hated that feeling.

Carina pushed through it, literally, her hands gripping the wheels of her chair as she maneuvered through the wide hospital corridors. The receptionist at the therapy desk called after her gently, asking if she needed assistance, but Carina waved her off with a strained smile, muttering a quick “I’m fine” in response. She wasn’t, not really, but saying it aloud felt like an impossible task.

The parking lot stretched out before her, bright and buzzing with the afternoon sun, though Carina barely noticed. Her eyes scanned the rows of cars until she spotted the familiar silhouette of their SUV, tucked neatly into a corner spot.

It wasn’t just Maya who carried this sense of fragility this constant fear of saying the wrong things, of pushing too hard or not enough, of undoing the progress they’d made. Carina felt it too. Every word, every interaction, felt precarious, like she was walking a tightrope between the person she used to be and the person she was now. She wheeled herself closer, her hands shaking slightly as she reached the car. Lifting her hand, she knocked gently on the window, the sound startling Maya awake.

Maya’s eyes snapped open, her body jerking upright as she looked around in confusion. When her gaze landed on Carina, her brow furrowed with panic. She quickly rolled down the window, her voice laced with worry. “Carina? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Nothing,” Carina said softly, her voice steady but distant.

Maya blinked, clearly not convinced. She glanced at the dashboard clock, her frown deepening. “It’s not even time yet. Did you leave your session early? Did something happen with Dr. Harris?”

“No,” Carina said quickly, shaking her head. “Nothing happened.”

Maya studied her for a long moment, her eyes searching Carina’s face for some clue, some crack in her carefully constructed armor. “Then why are you here?” she asked gently. “You wheeled yourself all the way out here. Something must be wrong or..

Carina’s hands tightened on the armrests of her chair, her knuckles white as she looked away. “I just… I needed air,” she said, her voice quiet, almost apologetic. “That’s all.”

Maya’s lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she seemed unsure whether to push or let it go. She exhaled slowly, leaning forward to rest her forearms on the steering wheel. “Okay,” she said softly, her tone laced with quiet understanding. “But you can tell me if something’s wrong, Carina. You know that, right?”

Carina’s throat tightened, and she nodded faintly, her eyes still fixed on the horizon. “I know,” she murmured, though the words felt heavier than they should.

Maya reached out then, her hand brushing lightly against Carina’s. “Do you want to get in the car?” she asked. “We can sit together for a bit, or I can drive us home now if you want.”

Carina hesitated, her fingers curling into her palm. “I’ll get in,”

she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Maya nodded, quickly stepping out of the car to help Carina transfer into the passenger seat. She moved with practiced ease, Once Carina was settled, Maya closed the door and walked back around to the driver’s seat. As she slid in, she glanced at her wife, who was staring straight ahead, her expression unreadable . Her wife sat rigid in the passenger seat, staring out the window as if the world outside might somehow offer her an escape.

The silence was unbearable.

Maya’s chest tightened, and before she could stop herself, she pulled the car over to the side of the road with a sharp turn, the tires crunching against the gravel. The sudden stop jolted Carina, and her head snapped toward Maya, her expression a mix of confusion and frustration.

“Maya, what are you doing?” Carina asked, her voice tense.

Maya put the car in park and turned to face her, her eyes blazing with emotion. “I can’t do this,” she said, her voice trembling with both anger and desperation. “I can’t sit here and pretend everything’s fine when it’s clearly not. Just tell me what’s wrong, Carina. Please.”

Carina’s jaw tightened, and she crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze flickering back to the window. “I told you, nothing’s wrong,” she said coldly.

Maya let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Nothing’s wrong? You wheeled yourself out of that therapy session early, you haven’t said more than two words to me since, and now you’re acting like I’m some stranger trying to pry into your life. Don’t tell me nothing’s wrong.”

Carina’s hands gripped the edge of her seat, her knuckles white. “Why do you always do this?” she snapped, her voice rising. “Why do you push and push like you can fix everything if I just say the right words?”

“Because I love you!” Maya shot back, her voice cracking. “Because I can’t stand seeing you like this, shutting me out like I’m not the one person who’s supposed to be there for you!”

Carina turned to her then, her eyes blazing with anger and hurt. “Do you know how exhausting it is to have to explain everything I’m feeling? To have to relive it, put it into words, just to make you feel better? I’m barely holding it together, Maya, and you want me to spell it out for you? I can’t!”

Maya flinched as if the words had physically struck her. She stared at Carina, But the anger and pain bubbling inside her wouldn’t let her stay quiet.

“Do you think it’s easy for me?” Maya demanded, her voice shaking. “Do you think I enjoy sitting here, feeling helpless, watching you fall apart and not knowing how to reach you? I’m trying, Carina. I’m trying so hard to be what you need, but you won’t even let me in.”

Carina let out a sharp, bitter laugh, her hands trembling as they gripped her lap. “Let you in?” she repeated, her voice full of scorn. Try being me then Maya.

The rawness in Carina’s voice hit Maya like a punch to the gut. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white, her jaw clenching as she fought back the sting of tears.

“Fine,” Maya said finally, her voice cold and tight as she turned back to the road. “If you don’t want to talk, then don’t.

She shifted the car into gear, the engine rumbling as they pulled back onto the road. The silence between them was deafening now, the earlier tension replaced by a suffocating heaviness.

Carina turned back to the window, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths as she fought to keep her emotions in check. She didn’t look at Maya, didn’t say another word.

Over the days that followed, Carina’s quietness deepened. She wasn’t silent she answered when spoken to, acknowledged the children’s stories, and thanked Maya when she brought her meals or helped her transfer to the wheelchair. But it wasn’t the same. Her words felt hollow, her tone distant, as if each syllable carried the weight of reluctance.

At the same time, Maya’s attempts to reach her gentle questions, lingering glances, moments of quiet reassurance only seemed to widen the gap. It wasn’t Maya’s fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, really. But Carina couldn’t shake the feeling that she was failing, that her inability to meet Maya halfway was just one more thing she was losing control over.

She spent more time staring out the window than engaging with the world around her. The sunlight would stream in, golden and warm, but Carina didn’t feel it. She’d sit there in her wheelchair, her hands resting lightly on the armrests, her gaze distant as if the trees swaying outside could somehow answer the questions she was too afraid to ask aloud.

The kids noticed it too, though they didn’t fully understand. Liam had tried to tell Carina about his soccer practice one evening, his voice brimming with excitement as he recounted every play and strategy. Carina had smiled faintly, nodding in the right places, but she hadn’t asked any questions, hadn’t engaged the way she normally would.

Andrea had hugged her tightly that same night, her small arms wrapping around Carina’s waist as she whispered, “Mamma, are you okay?”

Carina had nodded, her voice soft and distant as she said, “I’m fine, tesoro. Don’t worry.”

Maya, for her part, tried to give Carina space, even though it killed her inside. She’d watch her wife from a distance, her heart aching at the way Carina seemed to fold in on herself, shrinking away from the life they’d built together. Every day, Maya wondered if she should say something, do something, find a way to reach Carina that didn’t feel like another weight added to her already fragile shoulders.

But the truth was, Maya didn’t know how to fix this. She didn’t know how to bridge the growing gap between them, and the fear of making things worse held her back.

And so, the days stretched on, the silence between them growing louder with every passing moment. It wasn’t an angry silence, or even a resentful one it was an aching, fragile thing, born out of love and grief and fear.

Carina’s withdrawal wasn’t a rejection of Maya’s care. If anything, it was the opposite. She was terrified of being too much, of breaking the delicate balance they were trying to maintain. And yet, in her effort to protect Maya from her own pain, she couldn’t see how deeply it was cutting them both.

It was a slow unraveling, the kind that didn’t make noise or demand attention, but left its mark all the same. And as the quiet days turned into quiet nights, both Carina and Maya were left wondering how long they could keep walking this tightrope without falling.

Maya sat across from Andy in their favorite coffee shop, She hadn’t meant to call Andy it had been an impulsive decision, driven by a desperate need to say out loud what had been swirling in her mind for days.

Andy watched her carefully, her brow furrowed with concern. “You’ve barely said anything since I got here,” she said softly, leaning forward slightly. “What’s going on.

Maya exhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around the cup. “It’s Carina,” she said finally, her voice low but strained. “I don’t know how she’s going to handle things when I go back to work.”

Andy nodded slowly, her gaze steady. “You’re going back in a few days, right?”

“Yeah,” Maya said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m terrified. She’s… she’s so quiet, Andy. So withdrawn. It’s like she’s here, but not really. And I don’t know how she’s going to manage when I’m not around.”

Andy frowned, her expression thoughtful as she took a sip of her coffee. “Have you talked to her about it?”

Maya let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Talked? You mean tried to talk and gotten nowhere?” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Every time I bring up anything remotely close to how she’s feeling, she shuts down. Or she gives me these clipped answers that don’t really mean anything. I can’t even get her to tell me what she wants for lunch, let alone how she feels about me going back to work.”

Andy leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed loosely as she studied Maya. sounds like she’s still trying to process everything. And honestly, Maya, can you blame her? What she’s going through it’s huge. Life-altering.”

“I know that,” Maya said quickly, her voice defensive. “I do. But that doesn’t make it any easier to watch her fade like this. She’s just… not herself, Andy. And I don’t know how to help her.”

Andy nodded slowly, her expression softening. “I get it,” she said gently. “But Maya, you can’t do everything for her. She has to want to help herself too. Maybe it’s not about you helping her maybe it’s about giving her the space to figure out how to help herself.”

“That’s easy to say now,” Maya shot back, her voice rising slightly. “But what happens when I’m not there? What if she needs something and I’m not home? What if she falls? Or she gets overwhelmed? I’m not just worried about her I’m scared something could happen to her.”

Andy reached across the table, resting a hand on Maya’s arm. “It’s okay to be scared,” she said softly. “But you’re not abandoning her, Maya. You’re going back to work. That’s part of your life too. And you’ve got support you’ve got your mom, the kids, even her therapists. You’re not doing this alone.”

Maya’s shoulders slumped, her gaze dropping to the table. “It feels like I am,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “Every time I look at her, it’s like she’s slipping further away, and I don’t know how to reach her. How am I supposed to leave her like this, Andy? How do I just walk out that door and trust that she’ll be okay?”

Andy sighed, her grip on Maya’s arm tightening slightly. “You trust her,” she said firmly. “And you trust the people around you to step in when you can’t. Maya, you can’t be everything for her not all the time. It’s okay to let go of some of that. It’s okay to ask for help.”

Maya shook her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s not about me,” she said quietly. “It’s about her. She’s not ready for me to leave.”

“Maybe she’s not,” Andy said gently. “But she’ll adjust. And so will you. It’s going to take time, Maya. For both of you. But you’ve got to give her the chance to figure things out on her own too.”

Maya swallowed hard, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I just don’t want her to feel like I’m giving up on her,” she whispered.

“You’re not giving up on her,” Andy said firmly. “You’re doing what you need to do to take care of your family and that includes you. She knows how much you love her, Maya. You’ve shown her every day since the accident. But now, it’s her turn to start finding her way. And she will. I believe that.”

Maya nodded slowly, though the knot in her chest didn’t loosen.

She pulled the car into the driveway, the engine humming softly as she shifted it into park, and as she turned off the ignition, she spotted Andrea darting out of the house toward her.

The car door had barely opened before Andrea was already speaking. “Mommy did you get my art book?” she asked quickly, her voice full of urgency as she bounced on her toes.

Maya swung her legs out of the car and smiled faintly, reaching into the back seat to grab the bag she’d brought home. “Yes, I got it,” she said, handing Andrea the book she had specifically asked for two days ago. “But you’ve got to stop waiting until the last minute to remind me about these things, kiddo.”

Andrea took the book eagerly, clutching it to her chest as if it were a treasure. “Thanks, Mommy she said, spinning around on the driveway before pausing.

Maya paused, looking up toward the house. Is grandma back ?

“She’s not back yet …Andrea replied casually, already flipping open her art book to look inside.

“And Liam?” Maya asked, scanning the front windows of the house. “Where’s your brother? And Mamma?”

Andrea glanced up, her brow furrowing slightly. “Liam’s watching cartoons,” she said, pointing toward the living room window. “And Mamma’s in her room. She’s been in there all afternoon.”

Maya nodded slowly, her concern tempered by the reassurance that everyone was accounted for. “Alright,” she said, standing up and slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Let’s get inside, she stepped into the house, setting her bag down by the door. From the living room, the faint sound of cartoons drifted through the air, accompanied by Liam’s laughter. Andrea had already disappeared into her room, likely to start working on something in her art book. Maya stepped into the living room, the sound of the TV filling the space with animated voices and laughter. Liam was sprawled out on the couch, his legs tucked beneath him as he focused intently on the screen. He glanced up briefly when Maya entered, a smile spreading across his face.

“Hi, Mom,” he said casually, his attention quickly returning to the show.

“Hey, buddy,” Maya replied, leaning against the back of the couch for a moment, enjoying yourself?

“Yeah,” Liam said with a small nod, his eyes glued to the screen. Mamma said I could watch.

Maya smiled faintly, ruffling his hair. “Alright, well, don’t forget to take a break soon, okay?”

Liam gave her a quick thumbs-up, and Maya stepped away, heading down the hallway toward her room. Her heart tightened slightly as she approached the closed door.

The room was dim, the curtains drawn, and the faint scent of lavender lingered in the air from the diffuser on Carina’s nightstand.

Carina was by the bed, her body slumped slightly as she tried to maneuver herself from her wheelchair onto the mattress. Her movements were slow and unsteady, her exhaustion written in the lines of her face and the heaviness of her breathing.

“Carina,” Maya said gently, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

Carina didn’t respond, her focus entirely on the task at hand. Her hands gripped the edge of the bed, her knuckles white as she pushed herself up just enough to shift her weight. But her arms trembled, and Maya could see the effort it was taking her to even attempt the transfer.

Maya moved closer, crouching beside her wife with careful precision. Babe she said softly, her voice full of concern. “Let me help you.”

Carina still didn’t answer, her head bowing slightly as she paused, her breathing labored. Maya could see the sheer exhaustion etched into every line of her body the droop of her shoulders, the way her head hung, the quiet struggle in her silence.

Maya reached out, placing a gentle hand on Carina’s arm. “Hey,” she said, her voice quieter now. “It’s okay. You’re tired. Let me take over.”

Carina’s head turned slightly, her eyes flickering toward Maya for the briefest moment before she let out a shaky breath. She didn’t argue, didn’t say anything, but the faint nod of her head was all Maya needed.

She moved quickly but carefully, positioning herself beside Carina and guiding her through the transfer. Her hands were steady, her movements practiced, and within moments, Carina was settled on the bed, her body sinking into the mattress with a quiet sigh.

Maya adjusted the pillows behind her, brushing a strand of hair from Carina’s face as she whispered, “There. Better?”

Carina’s eyes fluttered closed, her head nodding faintly in response. Maya could see the weariness in her face, the way sleep was already tugging at her.

Maya sat there for a moment longer, watching her wife as she drifted into a peaceful sleep. The weight in her chest hadn’t lifted entirely, but for now, she found solace in the simple act of being there of making sure Carina knew she wasn’t alone.

She had slipped into the bathroom to wash her hands and grab a glass of water, thinking Carina would sleep peacefully for at least a little while. The sound of running water filled the small space, but even as she let the tap run over her hands, Maya couldn’t shake the unease that seemed to follow her everywhere lately.

As Maya moved around the room, picking up stray clothes and straightening the bedside table, something caught her attention. She froze mid-step, her gaze landing on the nightstand. The clutter that was usually contained Carina’s water bottle, her charger, and a few personal items was now mixed with something that didn’t belong: several medicine bottles, scattered across the surface.

Maya’s mind raced as she moved closer, her fingers trembling as she reached for the bottles. These were Carina’s medications the ones she’d carefully packed away earlier, ensuring everything was in order before she left the house for errands. But now… most of the bottles were on the open and dome spilled onto the table,

Her chest tightened with panic as her eyes darted back to Carina, who was still lying on the bed, her breathing soft but too steady. Maya’s hands flew to the bottles, quickly checking each label, her breath growing shallow as she tried to figure out how many pills were missing. She couldn’t tell it was too much to process all at once.

“No,” Maya whispered under her breath, her voice trembling as the worst thought imaginable clawed its way into her mind.

Her head snapped toward Carina, and in an instant, she was at her wife’s side, shaking her gently. “Carina,” she said urgently, her voice rising. “Carina, wake up. Please, wake up.”

Carina didn’t stir.

Maya’s panic escalated, her hands moving to Carina’s face, brushing against her cheeks as she leaned in closer. “Carina,” she cried, her voice breaking. wake up! Can you hear me?”

Nothing.

Her hands trembled as she pressed two fingers to Carina’s neck, searching for a pulse. Relief surged through her when she found it steady but faint. Carina was breathing, but she wasn’t responding.

“No, no, no,” she muttered, her voice cracking as she grabbed her phone from the nightstand. Her fingers fumbled over the screen as she dialed 911, her heart pounding so loudly she could barely hear the operator when they answered.

“My wife,” Maya said, her voice shaking violently. “She might have taken too much of her medication. She’s not responding, but she’s breathing. Please, send someone. Please.”

The operator’s voice was calm, asking for their address and additional details, but Maya could barely focus. She relayed the information as quickly as she could, her gaze locked on Carina’s still form, her free hand brushing over her wife’s forehead as if the touch alone could bring her back to her.

“They’re on their way,” the operator assured her. “Stay with her and keep her comfortable. Can you tell me how many pills you think she took?”

“I….I don’t know,” Maya stammered, her eyes darting back to the nightstand. “There are bottles open, but I don’t know how many. I don’t know what’s missing.”

“Okay, that’s alright,” the operator said gently. “Just stay with her and keep monitoring her breathing. Help is on the way.”

Maya dropped the phone onto the bed, her hands moving to cradle Carina’s face. “Come on, amore,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Stay with me. Please, stay with me.”

The sound of the sirens grew louder as the ambulance pulled into the driveway, the flashing lights casting streaks of red and blue across the walls of the living room. Liam and Andrea stood near the kitchen doorway, their faces pale with worry as they looked to Maya for answers.

“What’s going on?” Liam asked, his voice shaky. “Why are the paramedics here? Is Mamma okay?”

Maya crouched down briefly, her voice calm but firm despite the panic bubbling in her chest. “It’s just a check-up for Mamma But I need you both to stay in.

When the paramedics entered the bedroom, they moved quickly but efficiently, their expressions calm and professional as they approached the bed. One, a tall woman with dark hair pulled into a tight bun, immediately assessed the scene, her sharp eyes taking in the open medicine bottles on the nightstand and Carina’s motionless form on the bed.

“What do we have?” the woman asked, pulling on gloves as she stepped closer.

“She’s my wife,” Maya said quickly, her voice trembling. “She’s paralyzed from the waist down T12 incomplete spinal injury and she’s been exhausted lately. I think she may have taken too much of her medication.

The second paramedic, a younger man with short blond hair, nodded as he knelt by Carina’s side, his fingers immediately going to her neck to check her pulse. “Pulse is steady, but faint,” he said, glancing up at his partner. “Respirations are slow, about 8 per minute.”

“Alright,” the woman said, her tone calm but commanding. “Let’s get a baseline and prepare to administer oxygen. Ma’am, do you know what medications she’s on?”

“Yes,” Maya said, her hands shaking as she grabbed the bottles from the nightstand. “This one’s a muscle relaxant, this one’s for nerve pain, and these are for anxiety and sleep. I don’t know which ones she took or how many.”

The female paramedic nodded, quickly examining the bottles and setting them aside. “Okay, thank you. We’ll need to take these with us for the doctors at the hospital. Right now, we’re going to focus on stabilizing her.”

The younger paramedic had already retrieved a bag-valve mask from their kit, fitting it carefully over Carina’s face. “Oxygen at 15 liters per minute,” he said, squeezing the bag rhythmically to assist her breathing.

“Let’s check her pupils,” the lead paramedic said, pulling a small penlight from her pocket. She leaned over Carina, gently opening one eyelid and shining the light in. “Pupils are sluggish but reactive. No signs of hypoxia yet.

Maya stood to the side, her hands clenched into fists as she watched the paramedics work. “Is she going to be okay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“We’re doing everything we can,” the lead paramedic said firmly. “Right now, our priority is stabilizing her breathing and getting her to the hospital so they can monitor her and determine how much medication is in her system.”

As they worked, they prepared Carina for transport. The younger paramedic gently rolled her onto her side to check for any pressure sores or complications from her paralysis that might affect treatment. “No skin breakdown noted,” he said, carefully placing her back.

The lead paramedic attached a portable monitor to Carina’s finger, reading her oxygen saturation levels. “SpO2 is holding at 91% with oxygen.

They quickly transferred Carina from the bed to a stretcher, using a sheet to lift her gently. Maya hovered nearby, her heart racing as she watched them secure Carina with straps, ensuring her body was supported properly to prevent any strain on her spine.

As they wheeled Carina out of the bedroom, the lead paramedic turned to Maya. “You’re welcome to ride with us to the hospital,” she said. “But if there’s anyone else here family or children make sure someone can stay with them.”

Maya nodded quickly. “I’ll come with you. My mom will be back any minute to stay with the kids.”

The paramedic gave her a reassuring nod before turning her attention back to Carina. “Alright, let’s move.”

Maya followed closely as they wheeled Carina out to the ambulance, her chest tight with fear but her steps steady. She climbed into the back, taking a seat beside the stretcher as the paramedics continued their work, their voices calm but focused.

As the ambulance pulled away, Maya reached out, taking Carina’s limp hand in her own. “I’m here,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m right here.”

She turned quickly, rushing into the living room where Liam and Andrea were sitting on the couch.

Maya crouched down in front of them, her hands resting on Liam’s shoulders as she tried to keep her voice steady. “Mamma’s not feeling well, and the paramedics are taking her to the hospital to make sure she’s okay,” she said, her tone calm but firm.

Andrea’s eyes filled with tears, and she clutched her stuffed giraffe tightly. “Is she going to be okay?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Maya swallowed hard, forcing herself to smile. “She’s going to be fine,” she said, though her own voice wavered slightly. “I need you both to stay here, okay? Grandma is on her way, and she’ll be here really soon.”

Liam’s brow furrowed. “What about you? Are you going to the hospital?”

“Yes,” Maya said, nodding firmly. “I need to be with Mamma. But you two need to stay here and wait for Grandma. Don’t open the door for anyone else, okay? Just Grandma. Can you do that for me?”

Liam nodded quickly, his jaw set in determination. Andrea wiped at her eyes and nodded as well, though her small body trembled with fear.

Maya hugged them both tightly, kissing the tops of their heads. “I love you,” she whispered. “You’re both so brave. I’ll call as soon as i can

Maya turned away, her heart breaking as she followed the paramedics out the door, her focus now entirely on Carina. The ambulance ride was a blur for Maya. She sat beside Carina’s stretcher, gripping her wife’s limp hand as if her sheer will could bring her back to consciousness. The paramedics worked efficiently, monitoring Carina’s vitals, administering fluids, and relaying information over the radio to the hospital. Maya barely registered their words. Her mind was too busy racing with questions and fears she couldn’t answer.

When the ambulance screeched to a halt in front of Grey Sloan Memorial, the doors flew open, and the paramedics swiftly wheeled Carina inside. Maya followed closely, her heart pounding as she tried to keep up.

As they pushed through the ER doors, Maya spotted a familiar figure waiting for them: Owen Hunt, his expression calm but focused. He moved toward them quickly, his years of experience evident in the way he took charge of the situation.

“What’s going on?” Hunt asked, his sharp blue eyes flicking to Maya briefly before focusing on the paramedics.

“Suspected overdose,” one of the paramedics replied, pushing the gurney toward an open bay.

Hunt nodded, already snapping on a pair of gloves as he walked beside the gurney. “Vitals?”

“BP 88 over 50, heart rate 110, respirations shallow,” the paramedic answered quickly. “We administered IV fluids en route.”

Maya stopped just outside the trauma bay as they wheeled Carina in, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She felt like she was watching everything through a haze, the fluorescent lights of the hospital casting a harsh glare over the scene.

Hunt turned back to her, his tone firm but compassionate. “Maya, what happened? Do you know what she might have taken?”

Maya swallowed hard, her throat dry as she forced herself to speak. “I….I don’t know,” she stammered. “She was fine this morning. She was tired, but I didn’t think…” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, her hands trembling. but I didn’t even know she…

“It’s okay,” Hunt said, cutting her off gently. “We’ll take it from here. Right now, we’re going to stabilize her and figure out what’s in her system.

The chaos in the trauma bay heightened in an instant. Maya watched through the glass as Carina’s monitors let out a shrill alarm. The sharp, unrelenting sound pierced the air, and Maya’s heart plummeted.

“She’s coding!” one of the nurses called, her voice urgent.

Maya’s knees nearly buckled at the words. She pressed a trembling hand against the window for support, her breath caught in her throat as she watched Owen and his team spring into action.

“Start compressions!” Owen ordered, his voice sharp and commanding as he moved to the head of the bed. A nurse immediately climbed onto a stool beside Carina and began CPR, her hands pressing rhythmically against Carina’s chest.

Maya’s hands flew to her mouth, tears spilling freely down her face as she watched Carina’s body jerk with each compression. The sight was unbearable the love of her life lying so still, her pale face almost unrecognizable.

“Charge the paddles!” Owen barked, his tone clipped as he glanced at the monitors. “V-fib. Let’s get her back.”

A nurse quickly prepared the defibrillator, placing the gel pads on Carina’s chest. Owen took the paddles, his hands steady as he positioned them. “Clear!”

Carina’s body arched violently as the electrical charge surged through her, then fell limp again. The monitors continued their shrill warning, and Maya’s legs gave out, forcing her to lean heavily against the glass.

“Still no pulse,” a nurse said, her voice strained.

“Charge again. 200 joules,” Owen said, his expression unreadable as he focused entirely on the task at hand.

Maya pressed her forehead against the cool glass, her tears smudging the surface as she whispered, “Please, Carina. Please come back. I need you.”

“Clear!” Owen called again, and Carina’s body convulsed once more as the shock coursed through her. Maya held her breath, her heart hammering in her chest as the room seemed to still for a fraction of a second.

And then, the sound she’d been praying for the steady, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor.

“She’s back,” Owen said firmly, his voice loud enough to cut through the tension. He leaned over to check Carina’s pupils, his movements precise. “Pulse is weak, but it’s there. Let’s stabilize her.”

Maya exhaled sharply, her knees threatening to give out completely as relief washed over her in waves. She clutched the edge of the window, her body trembling as she watched the team work to stabilize Carina.

Owen stepped back briefly, pulling off his gloves as he turned to the nurse beside him. “Get her intubated and start her on a high-flow oxygen. We’ll need labs and tox screens now.”

He glanced toward the window then, his eyes meeting Maya’s. For a brief moment, she saw the exhaustion in his expression, the weight of what had just happened. But there was also reassurance there, a silent message that Carina was still here that she was still fighting.

Maya nodded, her lips trembling as she mouthed a quiet “thank you.”

Owen nodded back before turning to his team, his voice steady as he continued giving orders. And as Maya watched from the hallway, her tears continued to fall not from despair, but from the overwhelming relief that, for now, Carina was still with her.

The waiting room outside the ER felt impossibly cold despite the hum of activity around Maya. She sat stiffly in the chair, her fingers gripping the edge of her phone as if it might somehow anchor her. The paramedics had stabilized Carina on the way to the hospital, but the uncertainty of what she had taken left a heavy weight in Maya’s chest.

When the door finally opened, Amelia Shepherd stepped through, her face a careful mixture of professionalism and concern. She approached slowly, her eyes meeting Maya’s as she pulled a chair closer.

“Amelia,” Maya said quickly, her voice trembling. “What’s going on? Is Carina okay?”

Amelia nodded, holding up a hand to steady her. “She’s stable, Maya,” she said gently. “Her vitals are good for now, but we need to talk about what we found in her system.”

Maya’s heart sank, her stomach churning. “What did she take?”

Amelia exhaled, pulling a tablet from her pocket to show Maya the results of the toxicology screen. “The scan showed a combination of medications,” she began carefully, pointing to the list on the screen. “Primarily a mixture of her prescribed pain medication, a sedative, and an anti-anxiety drug. All of these are things Carina has been prescribed at different points, but when taken together and likely in higher doses it’s dangerous.”

Maya’s chest tightened, her hands clenching into fists. “She’s been so careful with her medications,” she said, her voice breaking. “I don’t understand why would she take so much?”

Amelia’s expression softened, and she leaned forward slightly. “Maya, this kind of situation often isn’t about carelessness. It’s about pain emotional pain, not just physical. Carina may not have intended to harm herself, but taking this combination of medications suggests she was trying to numb what she was feeling.”

Maya’s breath hitched, her eyes welling with tears as she shook her head. “She’s been so quiet, so withdrawn… I should’ve seen this coming. I should’ve done something.”

“This isn’t your fault, Maya, and sometimes, that pain builds up in ways even we don’t recognize.”

Maya wiped at her face, her breathing uneven. “What happens now?”

“We’ll monitor her for a while longer to ensure there are no lingering effects,” Amelia explained. “Once she’s awake, we’ll talk to her about what happened and why. But we’ll also need to involve psych. She’s going to need more support moving forward counseling, therapy, possibly adjustments to her medications. This is a wake-up call, Maya, but it’s not the end. It’s a chance for her to start healing.”

Maya nodded slowly, though the guilt still gnawed at her. “Can I see her?”

Amelia gave her a small, reassuring smile. but you can sit with her. Sometimes just having you there makes all the difference.”

Maya stood, her legs feeling shaky but determined as she followed Amelia toward Carina’s room.

Maya stepped into the hospital room, her heart pounding in her chest as her eyes landed on Carina. The sight of her wife lying so still in the hospital bed, her dark hair spread across the pillow and an IV taped to the back of her hand, nearly broke her. The steady beep of the monitors was the only reassurance that Carina was still here, still alive.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Maya pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down, her hands trembling as she reached out to take Carina’s limp hand in her own. She brushed her thumb gently across Carina’s knuckles, her voice coming out in a soft, broken whisper.

“Carina,” she said, her voice shaking. “Amore… I’m so sorry.”

Her tears fell freely now, streaking her face as she leaned closer, her forehead nearly resting against their intertwined hands. “I should’ve seen it. I should’ve known you were suffering this much. I knew you were quiet, withdrawn, but I thought…” She stopped, shaking her head as her voice cracked. “I thought I was giving you the space you needed. I thought I was helping, but I wasn’t. I didn’t see how much pain you were in, and I’m so sorry for that.”

Her voice broke completely then, and she let out a shaky sob, her body trembling with the weight of her guilt. “I love you so much, Carina,” she whispered. “And I promise, I’m going to do better. I’m going to make sure you never feel this alone again. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Always. “She leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Carina’s forehead, her lips lingering there as she whispered, “Please come back to me, amore. Please.”

The room was silent except for the steady rhythm of the monitors, but Maya stayed there, holding Carina’s hand as if her love alone could pull her back.

Chapter Text

Maya stumbled out of the hospital room, her legs feeling like they might give out beneath her. The sharp scent of antiseptic and the muffled hum of hospital activity faded into the background as she stepped into the quiet hallway. Her chest felt tight, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as she tried to process what had just happened.

She leaned against the wall, her hand shaking as she pulled out her phone. Her thumb hovered over the screen for a moment before she pressed the contact labeled Mom.

The phone rang twice before Katherine’s calm, familiar voice came through. “Maya? Sweetheart, how things over there?

Maya pressed her free hand to her forehead, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Mom… I…” She stopped, swallowing hard, trying to keep her composure. “Carina… tried to…

Katherine gasped softly on the other end of the line. “Oh, Maya. Is she—

“She’s stable now,” Maya cut in quickly, her voice tight. “The doctors are watching her, but I couldn’t stay in there, … I just needed to step out. “she closed her eyes, letting her mother’s words wash over her for a moment before taking a deep, shaky breath. “Are you home now?” she asked.

“Yes,” Katherine replied. “I got back not long after you left for the hospital. The kids are here with me.”

Maya’s heart eased slightly at the thought of Liam and Andrea being safe at home. “Can I… can I talk to them?” she asked softly, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Of course,” Katherine said. “Hold on a second.”

Maya could hear muffled voices in the background, followed by the sound of small, hurried footsteps. Then Liam’s voice came through, bright and eager.

“Mom?” he asked, his tone curious.

“Hey, buddy,” Maya said, her voice softening as she leaned back against the wall. “I’m sorry, buddy,” Maya said softly, her voice heavy with guilt. “I’m sorry I left you and Andrea alone with I know things have been… a lot lately.” She paused, her throat tightening. “But I promise, as soon as Mamma is better, it won’happen again, okay?”

There was a small silence before Liam’s voice came through, hesitant but full of concern. “Are you okay, Mom?” he asked, his words gentle but direct.

Maya closed her eyes, her chest tightening at the question. “I’m okay,” she said quickly, though her voice cracked slightly. “Don’t worry about me. I’m just…” She trailed off, her composure threatening to slip. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

On the other end of the line, Katherine’s voice suddenly came through, firm but comforting. “Maya, sweetheart,” she said gently, clearly sensing the strain in her daughter’s voice. “Why don’t you take a moment for yourself? You’ve been through so much today, and you can’t pour from an empty cup.

Maya’s shoulders sagged, and she let out a shaky breath, tears stinging her eyes. “I don’t know how,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Start by sitting back and closing your eyes,” Katherine said soothingly. “Even just for a few minutes. Trust me, Maya. You’re doing everything you can, and that’s enough.”

Maya nodded, though her mother couldn’t see it. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Okay.”

“We love you,” Katherine said softly. “And we’ll see you soon. Take care of yourself, sweetheart.”

“Love you too,” Maya managed before ending the call.

She set her phone down in her lap, her hands trembling as she stared at the floor. Katherine’s words echoed in her mind, but then she heard Amelia’s voice. She looked up to see the neurosurgeon standing a few feet away, her expression both kind and serious.

“Maya,” Amelia said softly, motioning toward the hallway. “Come take a walk with me.”

Maya hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the doors leading to Carina’s room before nodding and pushing herself up from the chair. Her legs felt heavy as she followed Amelia down the quiet corridor, the sterile hospital air pressing down on her like a weight.

Amelia glanced at her as they walked, her tone calm but deliberate. “How are you holding up?

Maya shrugged, her shoulders sagging. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t know how to hold up anymore.”

Amelia stopped walking and turned to face her, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” she said. “Because this is going to be a long road, Maya. Longer than you probably realize.”

Maya’s heart sank, her stomach twisting at the look in Amelia’s eyes. “How long are we talking?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Amelia exhaled deeply, her expression somber but honest. “Carina is likely going to be in and out of the hospital for the next two years,” she said gently. “Her body has been through so much physically and emotionally and it’s not the same anymore. Even after she’s discharged this time, there are going to be complications. A lot of them.”

Maya’s brow furrowed, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “What kind of complications?

Amelia nodded slowly, her tone measured as she continued. “Her paralysis puts her at higher risk for things like urinary tract infections, fevers, pressure sores, and other secondary conditions. Not to mention the physical toll of therapy and the mental health challenges she’s already facing. It’s not going to get better overnight, Maya. It’s going to take time years, even and there’s no guarantee it’ll ever feel like it did before.”

Maya’s chest tightened, and she looked away, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to spill. “So, what are you saying?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m saying that you need to prepare yourself,” Amelia said gently but firmly. “For the ups and the downs. For the days when she’s angry, or scared, or withdrawn. For the nights when you’re both so tired you don’t know how to keep going. It’s going to be hard, Maya harder than anything you’ve faced before. “Depending on how Carina is when she wakes up and how she responds to everything, we may need to make some big decisions for her mental health.”

Maya’s face crumpled, and she let out a shaky breath. “What kind of decisions?”

Amelia hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Maya, Carina isn’t safe right now. She’s emotionally vulnerable, and her actions prove that she’s not in a state to make decisions for herself. I strongly suggest we consider keeping her here, at least for a little while, until we can be sure she’s safe to go home.”

Maya’s body tensed, and she shook her head slightly. “You mean admit her? To a psych unit?”

Amelia placed a hand on Maya’s arm, her grip firm but kind. “Not necessarily a psych unit. There are specialized inpatient programs where she can get the care and attention she needs therapy, monitoring, and a safe space to process everything. Right now, she’s too fragile.

Maya’s voice cracked as she spoke, her emotions bubbling to the surface. What if Carina thinks I’m giving up on her?“She’s going to hate me,” she whispered.

“No, she won’t,” Amelia said firmly. “She might be angry at first, confused, even resistant. But deep down, she’ll know you’re doing this because you love her. Because you refuse to lose her.”

Maya let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly. “Okay,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Okay. If that’s what she needs, I’ll do it. I’ll keep her here.”

Amelia gave her a small, encouraging smile.

Maya wiped her face, straightening up as much as she could manage. “Thank you, Amelia,” she murmured. “For everything.”

The first thing Carina noticed was the nausea. It crept up slowly, clawing its way through her gut like a rising tide. Her head throbbed, each pulse sending sharp stabs of pain behind her eyes. The room swayed around her, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure if she was awake or trapped in some terrible dream.

Her stomach twisted violently, the sensation rolling through her like a storm. She opened her eyes, but the brightness of the room only worsened the dizziness, making her squeeze them shut again. Her throat burned, raw and dry, as though she had swallowed fire.

“Carina?” Maya’s voice was there, soft but frantic, like she was afraid to speak too loudly.

Carina groaned, her lips parting to speak, but no words came only a sudden, overwhelming urge to vomit. The nausea surged, and her body convulsed involuntarily, her diaphragm spasming painfully despite her paralysis. She felt utterly helpless, Panic set in as she choked, her head rolling weakly to the side.

“Carina! Hold on,” Maya said quickly, her chair scraping back as she leapt to her feet. A basin appeared, held firmly under Carina’s chin as Maya supported her neck with one hand. The other hand rested gently on Carina’s shoulder, grounding her.

The retching was violent and unrelenting, her body heaving with a force it could no longer control. Tears streamed down her face as bile burned its way up her throat, leaving her gasping and trembling.

“It’s okay,” Maya murmured, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. “You’re okay, Carina. I’ve got you.”

“Maya,” she croaked, her voice raw. Her throat burned with every word, but the emotions brewing inside her outweighed the pain. “You shouldn’t have... you shouldn’t have brought me here.”

Maya froze, her hand that had been gently stroking Carina’s damp forehead stilling. Her eyes, rimmed red with exhaustion, widened slightly. “Carina, what are you talking about?”

Carina’s lips trembled, but her anger came sharper now, cutting through her nausea and confusion. “You should’ve just let me go,” she snapped, though her voice was weak. Her gaze locked onto Maya, her blue eyes filled with tears of frustration. “Why did you do this? I didn’t ask to be saved!”

Maya’s face crumpled, but she didn’t back down. “Because I couldn’t let you go!” she cried, her voice breaking. “I couldn’t stand there and lose you, Carina. I love you, and I won’t apologize for saving your life.”

Carina let out a bitter laugh, though it turned into a dry cough that wracked her body. “You don’t get it! You can’t fix this! I don’t want to be here!”

The sharpness in her tone stabbed at Maya, who sat rigid, her jaw clenched tightly. “Carina, you don’t mean that.

“I do!” Carina yelled, her voice cracking as her emotions spilled over. Tears streamed down her face as she thrashed weakly against the bed, her arms jerking uselessly, and the paralysis below her waist amplifying her feeling of helplessness. “I don’t want this life! I don’t want this!”

Her shouting grew louder, frantic, as the raw, unfiltered emotions overtook her. Maya stood abruptly, her hands shaking as she pressed the call button above the bed. “You’re not thinking clearly,” she said, her voice tight with panic and fear.

“I need you to leave me alone!” Carina screamed, her voice hoarse as she continued to struggle.

The monitor beside Carina’s bed beeped erratically, mirroring the rapid, uneven rhythm of her heart. Maya’s eyes darted to the screen, then back to Carina, whose face was flushed with anger and tears. Her breathing was shallow and fast, each ragged inhale threatening to pull her further into panic.

“Carina, stop,” Maya pleaded, her voice firm yet trembling with emotion. “You need to calm down. Please, your heart rate is spiking.”

Carina thrashed weakly her breaths hitching as her body betrayed her again. The nausea roared back, sharp and unrelenting, and before she could stop it, she gagged violently. Maya lunged forward, grabbing the basin just as Carina retched again, bile spilling out as tears streaked her flushed cheeks.

Maya held the basin steady, her free hand gently brushing Carina’s damp hair back from her face. “It’s okay,”

When Carina finally stopped, her body sagged against the bed, exhausted and defeated. Maya set the basin aside, grabbed a damp cloth from the bedside table, and gently wiped Carina’s mouth and chin. Carina turned her face away, tears slipping down her temples.

“Just stop,” Carina croaked, her voice hoarse and broken. “I don’t want this. I don’t want to be here.”

Maya swallowed hard, her own tears threatening to spill again. She sat down in the chair beside the bed, leaning in close so Carina couldn’t avoid her. “Do you remember when I said that to you?”

Carina blinked, her glassy eyes slowly shifting to meet Maya’s. Her brows furrowed in confusion, her breath still shaky.

“There was a time when I didn’t want to be here either,” Maya continued softly, her voice steady but heavy with emotion. “When everything felt too big, too impossible. I thought I was drowning, and I didn’t know how to ask for help.”

“You were the one who saved me, Carina,” Maya said, her voice breaking as she reached out to take Carina’s trembling hand in her own. “Do you remember? You saw me spiraling. You didn’t give up on me, even when I tried to push you away, and got me admitted.

Carina’s chest hitched, a fresh wave of tears spilling over as she shook her head weakly. “That was different,” she whispered. “You weren’t... like this.”

Maya’s grip on Carina’s hand tightened, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It wasn’t different. Pain is pain, Carina.

Carina turned her head away, her jaw trembling as silent sobs wracked her body. “I don’t know how to fix this,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.

Maya looked at Carina, her face pale and tear-streaked, exhaustion etched into every line of her features. Without a word, Maya turned toward the corner of the room where a clean basin and a pitcher of water sat on a small cart.

“I’ll be right back,” she murmured softly, her voice barely carrying through the heavy air.

Carina didn’t respond. Her head was turned to the side, her eyes unfocused as if she were staring at something far beyond the hospital walls.

Maya filled the basin with lukewarm water, her movements deliberate but trembling. She grabbed a washcloth, then asked a passing nurse for a toothbrush and some toothpaste. The nurse handed her the items without question, giving Maya a brief nod before disappearing down the hallway.

When Maya returned to Carina’s side, she set the basin on the table beside the bed and pulled her chair closer. “Carina,” she said gently, brushing a strand of hair from her wife’s clammy forehead. “I’m going to help you clean up a little, okay? Just to make you feel a bit better.”

Carina blinked slowly, her gaze finally shifting to Maya’s. Her lips parted as if she wanted to protest, but the words never came. She just watched, her expression weary and resigned.

Maya dipped the washcloth into the water, wringing it out before gently wiping the corners of Carina’s mouth, then down along her chin and neck. “There we go,” she whispered, her voice filled with tenderness as she worked.

After a moment, Maya set the cloth aside and picked up the toothbrush, squeezing a small dollop of toothpaste onto the bristles. She held it up for Carina to see. “Can you open your mouth for me?”

Carina hesitated, her jaw tightening slightly, but then she gave a faint nod, parting her lips.

“That’s it,” Maya encouraged, her tone soothing. She carefully guided the toothbrush into Carina’s mouth, brushing gently as if afraid to hurt her. “You’re doing so good, babe.

Tears welled in Maya’s eyes as she focused on the simple task, her hands steady despite the ache in her chest. She rinsed the toothbrush in the basin, repeating the process until Carina’s teeth were clean.

When she was done, Maya held a cup of water to Carina’s lips, tipping it just enough for her to rinse and spit. She wiped Carina’s mouth again, setting the basin aside before taking both of her wife’s hands in her own.

“I love you,” Maya said softly, her voice trembling. “I love you more than anything, Carina. And I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but I’m going to say it anyway.”

Carina’s brows furrowed slightly, her gaze locking onto Maya’s.

“I’m going to do something that might break you,” Maya continued, her voice thick with emotion. “It’s going to hurt, and you’re probably going to hate me for it. But I promise you, it’s not because I don’t love you. It’s because I love you too much to let you keep hurting yourself like this.”

Carina’s lips quivered, and she shook her head weakly. “Maya… don’t.”

Maya leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Carina’s forehead. “I have to,” she whispered against her skin. “Because I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

Carina’s tears spilled over again, but this time she didn’t turn away. She simply let them fall, her body too weak to fight anymore.

Chapter Text

Maya stood in the bay of Station 19, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as the hum of activity carried on around her. The smell of smoke and engine oil lingered in the air, a familiar scent that once steadied her nerves but now did nothing to shake the heaviness pressing against her chest.

Her crew moved efficiently, preparing equipment and running drills, but Maya’s mind was elsewhere back in that sterile hospital room, with Carina pale and fragile, tethered to monitors and IV lines.

“You alright, Captain?” Andy’s voice broke through the fog.

Maya flinched slightly, turning to find her chief standing just a few feet away. Andy’s expression was unreadable, her usual friendly demeanor replaced by the firm, authoritative stance of someone who outranked her.

“Yeah,” Maya lied, forcing a tight smile. “I’m fine.”

Andy tilted her head, clearly unconvinced. “Walk with me,” she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Maya followed without a word, her boots thudding against the concrete floor as they made their way to Andy’s office. Once inside, Andy closed the door behind them and gestured for Maya to sit.

“You don’t look fine,” Andy said bluntly, leaning against the edge of her desk. “In fact, you look like someone who hasn’t slept in a week and is about two seconds away from snapping.”

Maya opened her mouth to protest, but Andy held up a hand to stop her.

“Look, I get it,” Andy continued. “You’ve got a lot going on. Carina’s been through hell, and so have you. But you’re not doing anyone any favors by being here when your head’s clearly somewhere else.”

“I can handle it,” Maya insisted, though even she didn’t believe the words as they left her mouth.

Andy arched a brow. “Can you? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re just barely holding it together. And that’s not the Maya Bishop I know.”

Maya clenched her fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I’m fine,” she repeated stubbornly.

Andy sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Maya, I’m saying this as your chief and your friend you need to go home. Take a day, two if you need it. Hell, take the week. Get your head right. Because if you don’t, you’re going to make a mistake, and out there? Mistakes cost lives.”

Maya swallowed hard, the weight of Andy’s words sinking in. She wanted to argue, to push back and prove she was still capable of leading her team. But the truth was, she was tired bone-deep, soul-weary tired and she knew Andy was right.

“I don’t want to let the team down,” Maya admitted quietly.

“You won’t,” Andy assured her. “They’ll be fine without you for a few days. What matters is that you’re okay when you come back. So go home, Maya. Be with Carina, with your family. They need you, and you need them.”

Maya nodded slowly, the fight draining out of her. “Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll go.”

Andy offered her a small, supportive smile. “Good. And Maya? If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, Andy,” Maya said, her voice thick with gratitude.

As she stood and made her way toward the door, Maya felt the weight on her shoulders lift just slightly.

The house was quieteerily so. Maya stood in the living room, staring at the empty space where laughter and chaos usually filled the air when the kids were home. But today, they were at school, and the silence pressed against her chest like a weight she couldn’t shake.

Her mother had moved back to her own place, leaving Maya alone to face the emptiness that seemed to echo louder every day since Carina was admitted to the rehab clinic at Grey Sloan.

Carina’s silence was unbearable. Not a single word, not even a glance when Maya had last visited. It was killing her this void where their connection used to be so strong, so undeniable. Maya had faced countless fires in her life, but this was a different kind of burning, one that scorched her heart and left ash in its wake.

With a heavy sigh, Maya sat at the dining table and opened her laptop. Her hand hovered over the keyboard for a moment before she forced herself to click into the virtual meeting link for caregivers. The screen loaded, and familiar faces appeared some weary, others hopeful, but all united by a shared struggle.

A facilitator with kind eyes and a calm voice greeted the group. “Welcome back, everyone. Let’s take a moment to check in. Maya, would you like to start?”

Maya blinked, caught off guard. Her instinct was to say nothing, to brush off her pain with a curt “I’m fine.” But that wasn’t why she was here.

She cleared her throat, her voice hoarse from disuse. “Uh… yeah. Hi, I’m Maya.” She paused, the words sticking in her throat. “My wife, Carina, was recently admitted because she didn’t uh …….she recovering from an accident that uh left her you know And, um… she hasn’t spoken to me since. It’s… hard.”

The facilitator nodded gently. “That sounds incredibly painful. What’s been the hardest part for you?”

Maya swallowed the lump in her throat. “The silence,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “We’ve always been able to get through things together, even when it was hard. But now… it’s like I don’t exist to her. And I keep wondering if I did the right thing by sending her there.”

“You did what you thought was best for her health and well-being,” the facilitator said softly. “It’s not uncommon for loved ones to feel anger or withdrawal during this process. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.”

Maya nodded numbly, though the words did little to ease the ache in her chest.

Another participant spoke up, sharing their own story of strained relationships and eventual healing. Maya listened, drawing a sliver of comfort from their journey.

As the meeting continued, Maya realized she wasn’t as alone as she’d thought. There were others who understood this pain, this guilt, this longing for connection, but as it went on Maya fell asleep woke up disoriented and groggy.

“You forgot us!” Liam’s voice cut through the haze, filled with a mix of frustration and disbelief.

Andrea, his face scrunched into a pout, chimed in, “We waited forever.

Maya blinked rapidly, trying to piece together what had happened. She glanced at the clock and realized with horror how late it was. Her mind raced as guilt gnawed at her.

“I’m so sorry, guys,” Maya said, sitting up on the couch, her voice thick with exhaustion. “I..

“You fell asleep, didn’t you?” Liam accused, crossing his arms.

Before Maya could respond, her mother Katherine stepped into view, her expression both stern and understanding.

“The school called me,” Katherine said evenly. “You didn’t answer your phone, so I picked them up.”

Maya ran a hand through her disheveled hair, shame washing over her. “I didn’t mean to, she looked at her children, their little faces still filled with hurt. “I’m so sorry,” she said again, her voice breaking. “I won’t let it happen again. I promise.”

Andrea crawled onto the couch, his pout fading just slightly. “You really forgot?”

Maya nodded solemnly. “I messed up. But I love you both so much, okay?”

Liam sighed dramatically but gave her a reluctant nod. “Okay. But next time, you get out ice cream if you forget.

Katherine placed a reassuring hand on Maya’s shoulder. “You need rest, sweetheart. Real rest.”

Maya exhaled shakily, grateful but still overwhelmed by guilt. “Thanks, Mom.”

As Katherine took the kids into the kitchen for a snack, Maya sat back against the couch, the weight of the day pressing heavily on her chest. She knew she had to pull herself together for Carina, for the kids, and for herself, and in that moment she decided she needed to talk to Carina no matter what.

her arms folded as she quietly observed Carina work the following day, waiting to talk to her.

When the session ended, Carina wiped her face with a towel, breathing heavily as she sat back in her chair. Her gaze flicked to Maya briefly before looking away, offering no warmth or acknowledgment.

Maya swallowed her hesitation and walked over. “Hey,” she said softly. “You did great.”

Carina gave a noncommittal shrug, her expression unreadable.

“I could help you with your shoes,” Maya offered gently, crouching down. “And your sweatshirt too.”

Carina’s voice was cool and firm. “I can do it myself.”

Maya hesitated, her hands hovering awkwardly in the air. “Okay,” she said quietly, stepping back but staying nearby.

She watched as Carina painstakingly bent down to tug on her shoes, her fingers fumbling slightly with the laces. Maya’s instinct was to step in, to ease the struggle, but she knew better. Carina’s independence was something she fiercely protected, especially now.

The silence between them was thick, weighted with everything unsaid. Maya wanted to tell Carina how much she missed her, how proud she was, how desperately she wished things were different. But Carina’s walls were up, and Maya knew pushing would only make them stronger.

As Carina struggled to pull the sweatshirt over her head, Maya couldn’t keep the words inside any longer. “I miss you,” she said softly, her voice cracking slightly.

Carina paused for a fraction of a second, her fingers tightening on the fabric before she continued tugging the sweatshirt down, her face unreadable.

“Just… one minute,” Maya pleaded, stepping closer but still giving Carina space. “That’s all I’m asking for. One minute of Carina time.

Carina’s jaw clenched, her lips pressing into a thin line. Her silence was heavy, like a barrier Maya couldn’t break through.

Maya exhaled shakily, fighting the sting of rejection. “I know you’re angry, and I get it. But I’m not going anywhere. I love you, and I’ll wait as long as you need.”

Carina finally met Maya’s eyes, and for a brief moment, something flickered there pain, longing, or maybe just exhaustion. Whatever it was, it was gone just as quickly as it appeared.

Maya stepped forward, her grip tightening on the back of Carina’s wheelchair as tension buzzed in the air between them. “Let it out,” Maya said, her voice low but steady. “If you’re angry, if you’re hurting take it out on me.”

Carina’s shoulders tensed, her fingers clenched in her lap. “What are you talking about?” she muttered, her tone brittle and dismissive.

“I mean it.” Maya moved to face her, eyes filled with desperate resolve. “Hit me. Yell at me. Blame me. Whatever it takes just don’t keep it all inside.” Her voice wavered. “I can take it. Give me the pain if that’s what you need.”

Carina’s jaw clenched, her face twisting with something raw and unresolved. “That’s ridiculous,” she snapped, turning her head away.

“No, it’s not,” Maya insisted, stepping closer. “You’re carrying all this weight like you have to do it alone, but you don’t I’m here. I’ll always be here. So if you’re going to fall apart, fall apart on me.”

Carina’s breath hitched, and for a fleeting moment, Maya saw cracks in the carefully constructed walls Carina had built. But Carina shook her head fiercely, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. “I don’t need your pity, Maya.”

“This isn’t pity,” Maya said fiercely. “This is love. You saved me when I was at my worst. You carried my pain when I couldn’t. Let me do that for you now.”

Carina’s lips parted, as if to argue, but no words came out. Her chest rose and fell with labored breaths, her eyes glistening despite the defiant set of her jaw.

Maya knelt in front of her, unwavering. “Hit me. Shout. Cry. I don’t care. Just don’t push me away.”

Carina blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Maya…”

But Maya, ever stubborn, didn’t flinch. Instead, she grasped the handles of Carina’s wheelchair and started pushing her toward a nearby bench under the shade of a tree. "Nope," Maya said firmly, her voice steady but gentle. "We’re not doing this. Not today."

Carina groaned in frustration, her fists clenching in her lap. "Maya, I’m warning you.

"Warn me all you want," Maya cut in as they reached the bench. She parked the wheelchair, moved around to face Carina, and crouched slightly. "Just let it out already. Scream, yell, cry whatever it is you’re holding onto. You don’t have to pretend with me.

Carina’s chest heaved, and for a moment, Maya thought she might actually listen. But then Carina’s frustration boiled over into something sharp and raw. "You think this is helping?" Carina snapped, her voice trembling with rage. "You think pushing me around and telling me to feel something is going to fix this?"

"Maybe not," Maya admitted softly, "but keeping it all locked up isn’t fixing it either."

"You're insufferable," Carina hissed, her body tensing. In a sudden burst of desperation, she swung her arm toward Maya, trying to hit her. But her body, weakened by exhaustion and therapy, betrayed her effort. The movement faltered midair, landing weakly against Maya’s shoulder.

Carina froze, her breath ragged as tears pooled in her eyes. The weight of everything anger, grief, helplessness finally broke free. A choked sob escaped her throat, followed by another, and soon she was trembling with the force of her own heartbreak.

Maya didn’t hesitate. She dropped to her knees in front of Carina, wrapping her arms around her without a word. "It’s okay," she whispered against Carina’s shoulder. "I’ve got you. Just let it out, baby. I’ve got you."

Carina sobbed harder, years of pride and control unraveling in Maya’s steady embrace. "I’m so tired," Carina gasped between cries. "I can’t do this

"You can," Maya whispered fiercely, holding her tighter. "And you don’t have to do it alone. I’m right here."

Maya let out a small, tired laugh as she dropped onto the bench beside Carina. "Wait a minute she said, tilting her head with a playful smirk, "I’m still shorter than you, even with you in a wheelchair."

Carina blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Maya…"

"And it’s so unfair," Maya continued dramatically, placing a hand over her chest. "Even when I sit, I have to look up at you like you're some goddess or something."

Carina rolled her eyes, though a flicker of amusement danced across her lips. "You're ridiculous."

Maya leaned just a little closer, her eyes softening. "Maybe. But you love me for it."

Before Carina could respond, Maya shifted forward, rising just enough to gently press her lips against Carina’s. The kiss was tender, slow, a deliberate reminder of everything they still were despite the chaos.

"Maya," Carina murmured, pulling back slightly, her cheeks flushing pink. "It's embarrassing. Stop."

"Nope," Maya grinned mischievously, brushing another soft kiss against Carina’s lips. "I’m committed now."

Carina groaned, though there was no real fight in it. "People could see."

Maya tightened her arms around Carina, her voice thick with emotion as she whispered, “I’m still here, Carina. No matter how hard this gets, I’m not going anywhere. I love you every broken, beautiful piece of you , When I was falling apart and pushing you away, You saved me. And now it’s my turn, okay? I’ll carry you, fight for you, love you through this, even when you don’t want me to.”

Carina’s breath hitched, her voice cracking. “I’m… I’m not strong anymore.”

“Yes, you are,” Maya whispered fiercely. “Even when you don’t feel it. Even when you’re tired and angry and hurting. You’re still the strongest person I know.”

Carina buried her face against Maya’s shoulder, tears soaking through her shirt. Maya kissed the top of her head, her heart breaking at how small and defeated Carina felt in her arms.

“If you ever decide to leave this world,” Maya murmured softly but firmly, “then you have to take me with you.”

Carina stiffened slightly, and Maya gently cupped her tear-streaked face, forcing her to look into her eyes. “Because I can’t do this life without you,” Maya continued. “I won’t. You’re my heart, Carina. Wherever you go, I go. Always.”

Carina’s lips trembled, her voice fragile. “You’re crazy.”

“Completely,” Maya smiled faintly, brushing a tear from Carina’s cheek. “But I love you more than anything, and I’m never giving up on us. Not ever.”

Carina let out a shaky breath, her defenses crumbling even further under Maya’s relentless love.

“And you’re stuck with me,” Maya whispered, pressing her forehead gently against Carina’s. “Forever, remember?”

A fragile silence settled between them, not yet healed but filled with the tentative spark of hope. And for the first time in what felt like ages, Carina let herself lean into Maya’s love and Maya held on, never letting go.

Chapter Text

Carina’s eyes fluttered open For a few moments, she just lay there, staring at nothing, her body still caught in the haze of sleep. Then the weight of reality settled over her like a cold, suffocating blanket.

She didn’t need to move to know the truth. Her legs silent, useless, foreign remained still beneath the covers. The same as yesterday. The same as the day before that.

A knock on the door broke the silence, and Nurse Danielle stepped in with a bright but measured smile. "Morning, Carina. Time to get up."

Carina swallowed, staring at the ceiling for a moment longer before finally shifting her arms. Her stomach twisted not from fear, not even from frustration, but from sheer exhaustion.

Still, she forced herself to move. One arm pushed against the mattress, the other reaching for the railing. It took more effort than she wanted to admit, her muscles straining against the simple act of sitting up.

Danielle didn’t rush her, just watched with quiet patience as Carina maneuvered herself, shifting her weight to the side and preparing for the transfer. Her breathing turned heavy as she gripped the transfer board and slid herself inch by inch onto the wheelchair. It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t easy. But she did it.A shaky exhale left her lips as she finally settled into the chair.
Danielle smiled. That was good, it was progress," crossing her arms. "And now, you’re going to keep going. Bathroom."

Carina clenched her jaw but nodded, gripping the wheels and propelling herself forward. The sound of rubber against tile filled the space as she navigated toward the bathroom, her arms already aching.
By the time she reached the sink, her breath was uneven, her body tense from the exertion. She caught her reflection in the mirror and barely recognized the woman staring back at her. Her face was pale, eyes shadowed with exhaustion, lips pressed into a tight line.

She hated this. Hated it.

Danielle, still standing by the doorway, spoke gently. "You’re doing it, Carina. Even when it’s hard. Even when you don’t want to. That means something."

As Carina positioned herself for the transfer to the bathroom chair, her arms trembled under the strain. She had done this before practiced it over and over but today, exhaustion clung to her muscles like lead.She gritted her teeth, gripping the transfer board as she pushed herself forward. But the moment she shifted her weight, something went wrong. The angle was off, her balance wavered, and suddenly, gravity yanked her downward.

Her stomach lurched panic surged through her veins she was falling.Before she could hit the cold, unforgiving floor, strong hands caught her.

“I got you!” Danielle’s voice was firm but calm as she held Carina steady, her grip unshakable. The sudden stop left Carina breathless, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. For a moment, she just sat there, half on the chair, half in Danielle’s arms, fists clenched. Embarrassment burned through her, hotter than frustration, hotter than fear. Her body her own body had betrayed her again.Carina squeezed her eyes shut. Merda she whispered hoarsely.

Danielle didn’t let go right away, making sure Carina was stable before adjusting her hold. “You’re okay,” she assured, her voice steady. “I’ve got you. Take a breath.”

Carina did. A slow, shaky inhale.

And then, with what little strength she had left, she helped Danielle guide her fully onto the bathroom chair. The moment she was secure, Carina dropped her head against the wall behind her, exhaling sharply.

Danielle crouched beside her, searching her face. “That was close, but you didn’t fall. That’s what matters.”

Carina didn’t answer. She just stared at the tile floor, jaw tight, hands curled into fists.

Danielle gave her a moment before standing up. “Take a minute. Then we’ll keep going. “Carina swallowed hard, her chest tightening.

She wasn’t sure what was worse the near fall, or the fact that she needed someone to catch her.By the time Carina had finished her morning routine, exhaustion weighed on her like a heavy blanket. The effort of moving, of simply existing in a body that no longer obeyed her, left her drained in a way she hated to admit.

As she wheeled herself back into the room, she found a tray waiting for her on the bedside table. The smell of eggs and toast filled the air, turning her stomach slightly. She wasn’t sure if it was nausea or just the dull, persistent ache of frustration in her chest.

Danielle smiled as she straightened up. “There we go right on time. Eat what you can, okay?”

Carina gave a small nod, barely glancing at the tray.

Danielle lingered for a second, watching her. “You did good this morning,” she said finally. “I know it didn’t feel like it, but you did.”

Carina didn’t answer.

With a knowing look, Danielle picked up her clipboard and gave a small wave. “I’ll see you later, Carina.”

And then she was gone, leaving Carina alone with the quiet hum of the hospital room and a plate of food she wasn’t sure she could stomach.

A soft knock at the door barely pulled her attention away before a woman stepped inside. “Good morning, Carina.” The voice was warm but professional.

Carina glanced up briefly. It was Emily her therapist. She had met her twice already, both sessions feeling like a slow, exhausting climb up a steep hill.

Emily’s eyes flickered to the untouched food. “I can wait if you want to finish eating.”

Carina let out a short breath. “I’m not hungry anyway.”

Emily tilted her head slightly, as if assessing whether to push the subject, but then nodded. “Alright. Let’s start then.”

She pulled up a chair, positioning herself at eye level with Carina. “How are you feeling today?”

Carina exhaled sharply, tilting her head back against the wheelchair. “Tired. Frustrated.” She hesitated before adding in a quieter voice, “Useless.”

Emily studied her for a moment before speaking. “You had a tough morning.”

Carina gave a small, stiff nod.

“And yet, you still got up. You still went through your routine. Even when it felt impossible.”

Carina clenched her jaw. “What choice do I have?”

Emily met her gaze. “You always have a choice, Carina. And today, you chose to keep going.”

Carina clenched her jaw. “I just… I just want to go home,” she admitted, the words slipping out before she could stop them. “I can’t stay here anymore. I can’t wake up in this place every day, going through the same motions, pretending it’s helping.” Her voice cracked, her throat tightening around the weight of her frustration. “I just want to go home.”

Emily studied her carefully. “Last time we spoke, you didn’t even want to exist. You didn’t want to fight. And now, you’re asking for something different.”

Carina swallowed, her grip tightening on the wheels of her chair. “Because I I want my life back,” she admitted, her voice raw with desperation. “Or whatever’s left of it. I don’t want to be stuck here, with nurses watching me like I might break again. I want to be home with Maya. With my kids.” Her breath shuddered out of her, uneven and strained. “I want to at least try.”

Emily leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “That’s a big change, Carina.”

Carina laughed again, but this time it wasn’t sharp it was bitter. “Don’t make it sound like some breakthrough. I just I can’t breathe here.” She met Emily’s gaze, her own eyes burning. “I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay again. But if I’m going to try, I need to do it somewhere that still feels like it belongs to me.”

Emily nodded slowly, considering her words. “That’s something we can talk about.”

Carina felt a lump rise in her throat. She knew what that meant. Not yet. Not now. They would assess, they would decide, and her voice her wants would get lost in the shuffle of policies and progress reports.Her hands curled into fists in her lap. “You think I’m not ready.”

Emily tilted her head. “I think you’re finding your will again, and that’s important. But I also think we need to make sure going home doesn’t mean going back to the place where you were at your lowest.”

Carina’s breath came out shaky. “You don’t understand,” she whispered. “I won’t survive if I stay here.”

Emily’s eyes softened, and for the first time, her professional detachment wavered. “Then let’s find a way to make sure you do.”

Later that afternoon,a nurse came in, announcing that she had a visitor. Her heart jumped to her throat when she heard Maya’s name.

When the door opened and Maya stepped in, Carina suddenly felt self-conscious. It was ridiculous this was her wife. But there was something different now. A shyness she wasn’t used to.

Maya gave her a small smile, hesitant, as if unsure of her place. “Hey.”

Carina cleared her throat, shifting in her wheelchair. “Hi.”

Maya stepped closer, hands buried in the pockets of her jacket. “I wanted to see you. If that’s okay.”

Carina nodded quickly, then looked away. She hated this distance between them, hated the uncertainty. But right now, she didn’t know how to bridge it.

Maya sat on the chair beside her, watching her carefully. “How are you feeling?”

Carina sighed, forcing a small smile. I miss home.

Maya exhaled sharply, nodding as if she understood. “Yeah, I get that.”She walked over, pulling out an envelope from her jacket. “I brought something for you.”

Carina took it with careful fingers, eyes flickering up to Maya’s before opening it. Inside were notes small, messy handwriting from Liam and Andrea, their words filled with love and updates about school, drawings of their family, and endless ‘I miss you’s. Carina’s fingers trembled as she traced over the ink, her throat tightening.

“And,” Maya added, reaching into her bag, “a present.”

She pulled out a soft, lavender-colored scarf, one Carina used to love wearing at home, wrapping it around herself whenever she read in bed or sat outside with tea. Carina’s lips parted slightly, eyes glistening as she ran her hands over the familiar fabric.

“I thought you might like something from home,” Maya said gently.

Carina swallowed hard and nodded, looking down at the scarf in her lap. A deep breath, then another, before she finally lifted her gaze. “Maya,” she said softly, her voice wavering slightly. “I have something to tell you.”

Maya’s brows knitted together. “I’m all ears.”

Carina exhaled, gripping the scarf as if it could anchor her. “I want to take the hospital’s offer.”

Maya stilled. The room seemed to shrink around her, the air suddenly thick and unsteady. She felt her stomach tighten, but she forced herself to keep her face neutral. “What?”

Carina nodded, gaze flickering away, unable to meet Maya’s. “The financial compensation they offered after the surgery. I want to take it.”

Maya felt her pulse quicken, but she swallowed back the immediate protest rising in her throat. “Why?” she asked, her voice quieter than she expected.

Carina sighed, closing her eyes for a moment before speaking. “I know all of my medical bills won’t be covered by insurance, Maya. The rehab, the equipment I’ll need, the modifications we’ll have to make at home it’s expensive. And I don’t want to put that burden on us.”

Maya clenched her jaw, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. “Carina, we’re not doing this for the money. We’re doing this because it’s what’s right for you. Because you deserve the best care, no matter the cost.”

Carina’s eyes snapped to hers then, something sharp beneath the vulnerability. “And what if we can’t afford it? What if you have to work more, take on extra shifts, and I just sit at home feeling useless? I can’t do that to you, to the kids.”

Maya took a slow breath, grounding herself. “You’re not useless, Carina,” she said firmly. “And this isn’t just about money. It’s about what that compensation means. It’s about what you went through.”

Carina shook her head, frustration bleeding into her features. “I know what I went through, Maya. I live with it every single day. And I just I need to do this. For me. For us.”

Maya ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply as she looked at Carina. “So that’s it? You’ve already decided?”

Carina’s shoulders slumped slightly. “I wanted to tell you first,” she admitted. “Because I know you won’t like it.”

Maya sat on the chair beside Carina’s bed, arms crossed, her expression firm but calm. “Let me handle the compensation with the lawyer,” she said. “I don’t like the offer they’re giving you. It’s not enough.”

Carina, who had barely touched her breakfast, let out a slow breath. “Maya.

“No, Carina,” Maya interrupted, her voice softer this time. “You don’t need to deal with this right now. Just focus on getting better.”

Carina clenched her jaw, gripping the blanket over her lap. Then when can I come home?”

Maya met her gaze, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. She hesitated. “We’re not there yet.”

Carina exhaled sharply, looking away. “I hate it here,” she murmured.

Maya reached for her hand, threading their fingers together. “I know,” she whispered. “But I need you to get stronger first.”

Carina’s grip tightened. “I just want to be home.”

Maya swallowed hard, leaning in slightly. “And I want you home. But not like this not when you’re still fighting so hard to get through the day.” Maya squeezed her hand, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m right here. Always, and if you feel like that money will get you home before you’re ready no babe ,let’s do this the right way.

Maya held Carina’s hand a moment longer before shifting closer, her gaze softening. Without another word, she leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Carina’s lips warm, lingering, filled with everything she couldn’t put into words.

When she pulled back, she rested her forehead against Carina’s for just a second, breathing her in. “I love you,” she whispered.

Carina closed her eyes, swallowing hard, but before she could respond, Maya was already straightening. She gave Carina’s hand one last squeeze before stepping back.

“I’ll see you soon,” Maya said, her voice steady, but there was something heavy in her eyes, something unspoken.

And then she turned and walked out, leaving Carina alone with the lingering warmth of her touch and the quiet ache of wanting more.

As Maya pulled away from the school parking lot, she turned left instead of the usual right. Liam, sitting in the passenger seat, furrowed his brows. Andrea, in the back with her stuffed giraffe clutched in her lap, kicked her feet against the seat. buckled her seatbelt, she glanced at Liam and Andrea in the backseat through the rearview mirror. The kids were already eyeing her suspiciously, sensing there was something she hadn’t told them yet.

“Where exactly are we going?” Liam asked, arms crossed. “You didn’t say.”

Andrea leaned forward, her seatbelt straining slightly. “Are we getting ice cream? Or going to the toy store?” she guessed hopefully.

Maya smirked as she pulled out of the driveway. “Nope. We’re going house hunting.”

Both kids froze for a second before speaking at the same time.

“Wait, what?” Liam blurted.

“What’s house hunting? Are we catching houses?” Andrea asked, clearly confused.

Maya chuckled. “No, Andrea, we’re not catching houses. We’re looking at houses. To buy. Or maybe move into.”

Andrea gasped. “We’re moving?!”

“Hold on, hold on,” Maya said quickly, raising a hand. “Nothing is decided yet. But we’re thinking about it. The house we have now isn’t the best for Mamma anymore she needs more space, maybe fewer stairs, and a place that works better for all of us.”

Liam frowned. “But… I like our house.”

“I know, buddy,” Maya said gently, glancing at him. “And this won’t happen overnight. But we need to start looking, see what’s out there. Just come with me, check out a few places, and we’ll talk about it after, okay?”

Andrea hummed thoughtfully. “So… if we don’t like any of them, we stay in our house?”

Maya exhaled, giving her a knowing look. “I wouldn’t say you have the final say, but… we all need to like it. Including Mamma.”

Andrea grinned. “So I get a little bit of a say. “Liam shook his head. “That’s dangerous. “Maya just laughed and kept driving.

The first house was sleek and modern, with big windows and a wide-open floor plan. Maya liked it right away it had ramps, wide hallways, and everything seemed accessible for Carina.

Andrea twirled in the living room. “It’s so big! I could roller skate in here!”

Liam, however, wasn’t as impressed. “It feels… empty.”

“It’s supposed to be empty,” Maya pointed out. “That’s what happens before you move in.”

Liam shrugged. “Still doesn’t feel like home.”Maya took another look around. He wasn’t wrong it was beautiful, but it lacked warmth.

The second house was smaller, with warm wooden floors and a backyard that Andrea immediately ran into, arms stretched like she was claiming the space as hers.

By the time they reached the third house, Maya was exhausted. But as soon as they stepped inside, something felt different. The house had a warm feel, like a place where memories could be made. The living room was open, the kitchen was big, and best of all, the downstairs had a bedroom with a full bathroom perfect for Carina.

Liam walked into what would be his room and nodded. “Okay, I like this one.”

Andrea was already checking out the backyard. “Mom! There’s trees! Can we get a treehouse?”

Maya smiled. “We’ll see.”As she walked through the house, picturing Carina there, picturing their life fitting into this space, she felt a flicker of something she hadn’t in a long time hope.

Maybe this could be the start of something new. Maybe, just maybe, they were finding their way forward.

Maya stood in the kitchen of the third house, running her fingers over the smooth countertops. The house felt right in a way the others hadn’t. She could see their life unfolding here Carina cooking while the kids did homework at the table, Andrea running in from the backyard covered in dirt, Liam rolling his eyes at his sister but secretly loving it. And most importantly, she could see Carina navigating the space without struggle, without obstacles that made everyday life harder than it already was.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to the real estate agent, a well-dressed woman with a professional but warm demeanor. “Alright,” Maya said, crossing her arms. “What’s the price?”

The agent smiled and pulled out her tablet. “This home is listed at $800,000. It’s been on the market for a few months, so there may be room for negotiation, but that’s the starting point.”

Maya’s stomach clenched. She had expected it to be expensive, but that expensive? Even with both her and Carina’s incomes, the medical bills, therapy costs, and adjustments they’d have to make to the home it was overwhelming.

Liam and Andrea were still running around excitedly, oblivious to the weight of the conversation happening just a few feet away.

Maya forced a smile. “Okay,” she said, nodding. “And what kind of financing options are available?”

The agent nodded, already pulling up information. “We can definitely discuss loan programs, down payment assistance, and even accessibility grants since you mentioned your wife’s needs. There are options, but it depends on your financial situation.”

Maya exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “Alright. Let me talk to my wife, and we’ll figure out our next step.”

The agent smiled warmly. “Of course. Take your time. It’s a big decision, but this house would be a great fit for your family.”

Maya glanced around again, trying to push aside the panic creeping into her chest. The house was perfect. But could they afford it?

She looked over at Liam and Andrea, who were already imagining their lives here. And then she thought of Carina, of how much this space would mean for her.

Maya drove home in silence, her mind spinning with numbers, calculations, and endless what-ifs. The kids, still buzzing with excitement from the house tours, chattered in the backseat about their favorite parts of each place. Andrea was already planning where her stuffed animals would go, while Liam was debating which room had the best space for his gaming setup.

But Maya barely heard them.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the hospital’s offer the financial compensation, the monthly payout, the price of Carina’s accident. The words from the proposal kept replaying in her mind:

It sounded good. On paper, it seemed like the hospital was taking responsibility, ensuring Carina wouldn’t struggle financially. But then there was that clause the one that forced them to absolve the hospital of any blame.

The one that made it clear this wasn’t about fairness. It was about silence.

By the time she pulled into the driveway, her jaw was tight, and her hands ached from gripping the steering wheel too hard.

As soon as they stepped inside, the kids bolted straight to Katherine, who was standing in the kitchen, sipping tea.

“Nonna!” Andrea called out. “We’re moving!”

Katherine blinked in surprise, lowering her mug. “Wait, what?”

Liam rolled his eyes at his sister’s enthusiasm. “We might be moving,” he corrected, shooting Maya a look. “Mom took us house hunting today.”

Katherine raised an eyebrow as she turned to Maya. “House hunting?” she repeated, setting her mug down. “And here I was thinking today was a normal day.”

Maya sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah. I wanted to see what’s out there, find something that works better for Carina. But…” She exhaled, shaking her head. “Houses are expensive. The ones that actually work for us? Even more expensive.”

Katherine studied her daughter for a moment, noticing the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers curled into her palms like she was holding onto something she wasn’t saying.

Maya,” she said softly, tilting her head. “What’s really got you so wound up?”

Maya hesitated, but the weight of it all was too much to hold inside. She pulled out her phone, scrolling until she found the hospital’s offer. “This,” she said, handing the phone to Katherine.

Katherine took the device and read silently, her lips pressing together as she took in the details. When she finally looked up, her expression was unreadable.

Katherine reached out, squeezing her daughter’s hand. “Whatever you two decide, we’ll figure it out together,” she assured her

The next day when Maya sat in her office at the station, her fingers tapping restlessly against the desk as she stared at the open case files in front of her. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t focus. Her mind was elsewhere on Carina, on the house, on the deal the hospital had offered.

A knock at the door snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Stephanie Whitaker, her lawyer, standing in the doorway, a folder tucked neatly under her arm.

“Hey,” Maya said, sitting up straighter. “Come in.”

Stephanie stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She placed the folder on Maya’s desk and took a seat across from her, her sharp gaze scanning Maya’s face. “I take it you’ve talked to Carina about the hospital’s offer?”

Maya let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in her chair. “Yeah,” she said, rubbing a hand over her face. “She wants to take it.”

Stephanie’s expression didn’t shift. “And what do you want?”

Maya hesitated. “It doesn’t feel right,” she admitted, her voice quiet but firm. “I mean, the money would help. It would really help. But this clause about waiving liability? It’s like they’re trying to erase what happened like they just want to pay us off and move on.”

Stephanie nodded slowly, her fingers lacing together. “That’s exactly what they’re doing,” she said. “Hospitals don’t like lawsuits, especially ones that could expose negligence. By offering you a settlement with a no-liability clause, they’re covering themselves. The question is can you live with that?”

Maya’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Carina just wants stability. She wants to move forward, and she doesn’t have the energy for a long legal battle. And I get that. But I hate the idea of letting them walk away without any consequences.”

Stephanie studied her for a moment before speaking. “You can negotiate,” she pointed out. “If Carina is set on taking the deal, we can try to modify the terms. Push for a stronger admission of responsibility from the hospital. Maybe even remove the language that completely clears them of blame.”

Maya sat up at that, her mind racing. “You think they’d go for that?”

“It depends,” Stephanie said. “They want this to go away quietly. If we push too hard, they might pull the offer entirely. But if we approach it strategically, there’s a chance they’ll budge at least a little.”

Maya exhaled, shaking her head. “I just don’t want to regret this,” she murmured. “I don’t want Carina to regret it, either.”

Stephanie’s voice was steady. “Then we make sure you don’t. We counter their offer, see how much they’re willing to compromise. If they refuse to adjust, then you and Carina decide if the financial security is worth it.”

Maya nodded, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on her. “Okay,” she said finally. “Send them a counteroffer. Let’s see what they do.”

Stephanie gave a small nod, gathering her folder. “I’ll get on it.

As Stephanie left, Maya leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. The deal wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t fair. But maybe, just maybe, there was a way to make it less wrong.

And she had to try.

The familiar sound of little footsteps echoed through the hallway of Station 19, followed by Andrea’s excited chatter and Liam’s more measured voice. Maya looked up from her desk just as the door to her office swung open, revealing both kids standing there with their backpacks slung over their shoulders.

“Mom, we’re here!” Andrea announced, grinning as she bounced on her heels.

Maya smiled, standing up and pulling them both into a hug. “Hey, guys. How was school?”

“Boring,” Liam replied immediately, flopping onto the couch in the corner of the office.

Maya glanced at the clock and then knelt in front of them, her expression softening. “So, I know this is new for you guys,” she said gently, “but I booked you both a session with a therapist today. Just to talk about things about how you’re feeling with everything going on.”

Liam’s face twisted in discomfort. “Do we have to?”

Andrea looked between Maya and her brother, clearly unsure. “Is it like when Mamma sees her doctor?”

Maya hesitated, trying to find the right words. “Not exactly. It’s just a space for you to talk about anything on your mind. No pressure, no tests just someone who’s there to listen and help if you need it.”

Liam shifted in his seat, crossing his arms. “I don’t need it.”

Maya gave him a knowing look. “Maybe not. But it doesn’t hurt to try.”

Before Liam could protest again, there was a knock on the door. Maya turned to see Dr. Rachel Hayes, a friendly-looking woman with soft brown curls and kind eyes, standing in the doorway.

“Hey, Dr. Hayes,” Maya greeted, standing up.

“Hi, Maya.” The therapist smiled, then turned her attention to the kids. “And you must be Liam and Andrea.”

Liam still looked unsure, but Dr. Hayes wasn’t fazed. “I know this might feel weird,” she said, her voice gentle, “but we’re just going to talk for a little bit. Nothing scary, I promise.”

Maya knelt in front of them again, squeezing Liam’s knee and brushing Andrea’s hair back. “I’ll be right here if you need me,” she assured them. “But this is your time, okay?

Andrea nodded slowly, and after a long moment, Liam let out a sigh. “Fine,” he muttered.

Maya stood, stepping toward the door. “Alright, I’ll give you guys space,” she said, shooting Dr. Hayes a grateful look before stepping outside.

As she leaned against the hallway wall, exhaling slowly, she couldn’t help but wonder what the kids would say. She hoped more than anything that this would help them process everything in a way she wasn’t sure she could on her own.

Dr. Hayes settled into the chair across from Liam and Andrea, her posture relaxed and open. She let the silence sit for a moment before speaking.

“So,” she said gently, her gaze moving between the two kids. “Your mom, Carina she’s in a wheelchair now. That’s a big change, isn’t it?”

Andrea nodded immediately, swinging her legs beneath her chair. “Uh-huh,” she said. “She used to pick me up and spin me around, but now she can’t.”

Liam, sitting next to her, was quieter. He shifted in his seat, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Yeah,” he muttered, looking at the floor.

Dr. Hayes gave them both a moment before she continued How does that make you feel?

Andrea’s face scrunched up in thought. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Sometimes it’s okay But sometimes I get mad.”

Dr. Hayes nodded, her expression warm and understanding. “That makes a lot of sense. What makes you mad?”

Andrea fidgeted with the hem of her dress. “Because… because she’s always at the hospital, I still don’t like it.”

“That’s a really big feeling,” Dr. Hayes said gently. “And it’s okay to feel that way. It’s hard when someone we love changes, even when we know it’s not their fault.”

Andrea looked down at her lap, her voice small. “I don’t want Mamma to think I don’t love her anymore.”

Andrea nodded slowly but didn’t say anything else.

Dr. Hayes turned her attention to Liam. “What about you?” she asked. “How do you feel about your mom being in a wheelchair?”

Liam’s jaw tightened. He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter,” he said flatly.

Dr. Hayes tilted her head. “It kind of sounds like it does matter.”

Liam kept his eyes on the floor, his fingers tapping lightly against his arm. “I just don’t want her to think I feel bad for her,” he mumbled.

“Why not?”

He frowned. “Because she doesn’t want us to feel bad for her. She wants us to act normal.”

Dr. Hayes studied him for a moment. “Acting normal,” she repeated. “What does that look like?”

Liam sighed, finally looking up. “Like nothing’s different. Like she’s still the same.”

Dr. Hayes smiled at both kids before turning to Andrea. “Andrea, would you mind giving me a little time with Liam? Just for a few minutes.”

Andrea glanced between her brother and the therapist, then at Maya’s office door. “Can I go see Mom?”

Dr. Hayes nodded. “Of course. We’ll only be a little while.”

Andrea hopped off her chair, giving Liam a small pat on the arm before skipping toward the door. When she was gone, the room fell into a quiet stillness.

Dr. Hayes turned back to Liam, her expression kind but serious. “I wanted to check in with you one-on-one,” she said. “You’ve been holding a lot in, haven’t you?”

Liam shifted in his seat, his hands gripping the hem of his hoodie. “I guess,” he muttered.

Dr. Hayes leaned forward slightly. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Liam stayed quiet for a moment, then sighed, still looking at the floor. “I just… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” he admitted. “Andrea still talks about it all the time about how she misses Mamma picking her up and playing with her. But I feel like I can’t say that.

Dr. Hayes nodded, not interrupting.

Liam swallowed. “I don’t want Mom to think I feel bad for her. I don’t want her to think I see her as… different. But she is different. And it sucks.” His voice cracked slightly on the last words, and he clenched his jaw.

“Mamma is my favorite person in the world.”

Dr. Hayes smiled gently. “That’s really special, Liam,” she said, her voice warm but careful, the way people talk to kids when they know something big is about to follow. “Can you tell me why?”

Liam hesitated, then shrugged, but his voice was softer when he spoke again. “Because she just… gets me. She knows when I don’t want to talk, and she knows when I do even before I know it. She never makes me feel bad for being quiet or for getting upset. And she’s always there. She just knows.

Dr. Hayes nodded, still letting him take his time. “That sounds like a really strong bond.”

Liam swallowed. “But now… she’s different.”

Dr. Hayes leaned in slightly. “Different how?”

Liam’s hands curled into fists. “I don’t want her to pretend around me,” he admitted, his voice almost a whisper. “I just want her to tell me the truth. Even if it sucks.”

Dr. Hayes nodded. “That makes a lot of sense. When you love someone, you don’t want them to hide from you, even if they think they’re protecting you.”

Liam nodded, his throat tightening again. He looked away for a second before speaking again, this time even quieter.

“And Mom cries a lot.”

Dr. Hayes didn’t react with surprise, just nodded gently, waiting.

“She thinks I don’t see it,” Liam continued, his voice small. “She always does it in the bathroom or when she thinks we’re asleep. But I hear her.”

Dr. Hayes stayed quiet for a beat before responding in the softest voice possible. “That sounds really hard, Liam.”

He swallowed hard, his voice breaking slightly. “She doesn’t say she’s sad, but I know she is. And I don’t know how to help. I don’t know if I can help.”

Dr. Hayes let his words settle for a moment before she spoke. “Liam, can I tell you something important?”

He gave a tiny nod, not looking up.

“You don’t have to fix everything,” she said gently. “You’re a kid. A really strong, really caring kid, but still a kid. And it’s not your job to carry all of this on your own.”

Liam clenched his jaw. “But if I don’t, who will?”

Dr. Hayes gave him a knowing look. “Your moms. Your family. The adults around you. We see what’s happening, and we’re going to take care of them, just like they take care of you.”

Liam didn’t say anything, but his shoulders sagged just a little.

Dr. Hayes leaned forward slightly. “But here’s what you can do, Liam. You can keep loving them. Keep being yourself. Keep letting them know you’re there. And when you need to talk, when you feel like it’s too much, you let someone help you, too.”

Liam exhaled shakily. “I don’t know how to do that.”

Dr. Hayes smiled, kind and understanding. “That’s what we’re here for. And we’ll figure it out together.”

Liam shifted in his seat, rubbing his hands over his knees, his usual energy drained. He had said more than he expected, more than he wanted to, and now everything felt… heavy. He glanced at the door, then back at Dr. Hayes.

“Can I go now?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

Dr. Hayes gave him a reassuring nod. “Of course, Liam. You did really well today.”

Liam stood up, pushing his hands into his hoodie pockets. “Thanks,” he muttered, though he wasn’t sure what for. Without waiting, he turned and left the room, his footsteps quick but not hurried.

Dr. Hayes watched him go, exhaling softly. She had expected resistance, but Liam had let more slip through the cracks than she anticipated. And that told her one thing he needed more time.

She gathered her things and made her way toward the barn, where she knew Maya had taken Andrea.

When she stepped inside, the scent of hay and wood filled the air, and she spotted Maya crouching near Andrea.

Maya looked up as Dr. Hayes approached, wiping her hands on her jeans. “Hey,” she greeted, glancing toward the barn door. “Liam done?”

Dr. Hayes nodded. “Yeah. He left a little drained, but he opened up more than I think he expected to.”

Maya sighed, standing up. “That’s… good, right?”

Dr. Hayes gave a small nod but didn’t smile. “It is. But he needs more time, Maya. Especially with me.”

Maya frowned, crossing her arms. “Why? Did something happen?”

Dr. Hayes hesitated for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “Liam is carrying a lot more than he should.

Maya exhaled, her hands rubbing over her face. “I didn’t realize… “Okay,” she murmured. “More sessions. Whatever he needs.”

Dr. Hayes gave her a small, reassuring smile.

Maya nodded again, glancing toward the house where Liam had disappeared. The guilt sat heavy in her chest, but she pushed it down. This wasn’t about feeling guilty it was about fixing it.

One step at a time.

Chapter Text

The day Carina was discharged felt like a victory, Maya wheeled Carina toward the hospital exit, the weight of the last few weeks pressing down on her shoulders. Carina sat quietly in the chair, hands folded in her lap, her face unreadable as the automatic doors loomed ahead.

As they stepped into the fresh air, Maya barely had a moment to exhale before a familiar voice called her name.

“Maya!”

She turned to see Stephanie Whitaker, their lawyer, striding toward them, a folder tucked under her arm. The look on her face was a mixture of determination and caution, like she was bracing for impact.

Maya stopped, instinctively tightening her grip on the wheelchair handles. Carina stiffened slightly but didn’t turn around.

Stephanie came to a halt in front of them, glancing briefly at Carina before shifting her attention back to Maya. “I just got word from the hospital’s legal team. They’ve agreed to an adjustment in the settlement.”

Maya’s stomach clenched. “What kind of adjustment?”

Stephanie exhaled, flipping open the folder. “Carina is allowed to talk about what happened. She can share her experience publicly if she wants to. They’re not forcing her into silence anymore.”

Maya’s breath hitched, and she immediately looked down at Carina, whose hands had gripped the armrests of the wheelchair so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

“But…” Carina’s voice was soft, but the sharpness in her accent cut through the air. “I can’t sue them.”

Stephanie nodded, closing the folder. “No. That was their condition. You can speak your truth, but you can’t take legal action.”

Silence.

Maya’s pulse pounded in her ears as she waited for Carina to say something, anything. But she didn’t. She just sat there, staring straight ahead, her expression carved from stone.

The hospital has agreed to cover everything all of Carina’s medical expenses, including long-term care, therapy, equipment, and any future complications related to her condition. They’ll also provide a monthly payout to cover her lost income.”

Maya’s heart pounded. It was everything they had wanted at least, everything that made life easier. But the deal still tasted bitter.

“And in exchange,” Maya said, her voice tight, “we can’t sue.”

Stephanie nodded. “That’s the condition. You can talk about what happened, Carina can share her experience, but you won’t be able to take legal action against the hospital.” It’s a better deal here remember The hospital agreed to full compensation medical expenses, long-term care support, and a private specialist for Carina’s rehabilitation. It’s better than we hoped for.”

Maya turned to Carina, searching her face. Babe, what do you think?”

Carina exhaled, her eyes flickering between Maya and the documents in the lawyer hands . “It’s… practical,” she said finally, her voice quiet but steady. “I don’t have the energy to fight a legal battle for years. And if they are willing to take care of everything…”

Maya’s stomach twisted. She hated this. She hated that the hospital was getting away with what they had done. But she also knew Carina was right. A lawsuit could take years. Years they didn’t have the strength for.

Maya let out a slow breath, her jaw clenching before she finally nodded. “Okay,” she said. “If this is what you want.”

Carina reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s what we need,” she corrected. “We need to move forward.

Stephanie slid the papers closer to them. “Then all that’s left is for you to sign.”

Maya swallowed the lump in her throat and picked up the pen. Her grip was tight, reluctant. But when she looked at Carina at the tired but determined expression on her face she knew there was no other choice.

With a deep breath, she signed.

Carina took the pen next, pausing for only a moment before pressing her name onto the paper.

And just like that, it was done.

Stephanie gathered the documents, offering a reassuring nod. “You made the right choice for your family,” she ssaid

Maya wasn’t sure if it felt right. But when she looked at Carina, at the flicker of relief in her wife’s eyes, she knew it was enough. For now.

Maya held the car door open, glancing at Carina as she adjusted the wheelchair beside the passenger seat. “Do you need help getting in?” she asked, her voice gentle but careful not wanting to make Carina feel incapable, but also not wanting to ignore that she might need support.

Carina hesitated only for a second before nodding. “Yes,” she admitted, exhaling. “I think I do.”

Maya gave her a small smile, one that wasn’t full of pity but something softer understanding. “Okay,” she said simply, moving closer.

She positioned herself at Carina’s side, offering her arms for balance. Carina grasped Maya’s forearms as Maya carefully helped her shift her weight, guiding her as she lifted herself from the chair. There was still an awkwardness in the movement, a slowness that neither of them was used to, but there was no frustration in Carina’s eyes this time. Just quiet acceptance.

Once Carina was settled in the passenger seat, Maya buckled her in and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “There,” she said softly. “That wasn’t so bad, right?”

Carina smirked, tilting her head slightly. “You’re getting better at helping,” she teased.

Maya chuckled, closing the car door before putting the chair in the trunk circling around to the driver’s side. When she slid into her seat and started the engine, she glanced at Carina again, really looking at her.

“You look happier,” Maya said, tilting her head. “Lighter, maybe?” its nice to see you crack jokes.

Carina nodded, her fingers tracing the hem of her sweater as she looked out the window. “I feel better,” she admitted. “Not fixed, not like everything is suddenly easy, but… like I can finally breathe.”

Maya’s chest loosened at those words, something in her heart settling for the first time in weeks. “Good,” she murmured, reaching over to squeeze Carina’s hand before pulling out of the parking lot.

When Maya pulled into the driveway, the house was unusually quiet. No sound of the kids running through the halls, no cartoons playing in the background, no Andrea bursting through the door with a million things to say at once.

Maya turned off the engine and exhaled, glancing at Carina. “Looks like we beat them home,” she said softly. “We have some time to get you settled before the chaos returns.”

Carina gave a small smile, nodding. “That sounds good.”

Maya got out first, moving quickly to Carina’s side and opening the door. She unlatched the wheelchair from the back of the car and positioned it beside her wife. “Ready?”

Carina gave her a look. “If I say no, are you leaving me in the car?”

Maya smirked. “I might consider it.”Carina chuckled, shaking her head. “Help me out.

Maya carefully helped Carina transfer into the wheelchair, her movements steady and patient. It wasn’t as difficult as before they were finding their rhythm, learning each other’s cues. Carina didn’t resist as much, and Maya no longer hesitated, afraid of making her feel weak.

Once Carina was settled, Maya pushed her up the ramp and into the house, the familiar warmth of their home wrapping around them.Maya wheeled Carina into the living room and helped her transfer to the couch. “There,” she said, fluffing a pillow behind Carina’s back. “Comfy?”

Carina sighed as she leaned into the cushions. “Yes. Grazie..Maya sat beside her, resting a hand on her thigh. “Are you okay?”

Carina nodded slowly, looking around the room. “It feels strange,” she admitted. “I’ve been away so long… I forgot what home felt like.”

Maya swallowed past the lump in her throat and squeezed her hand. “You’re home now,” she said firmly. Carina turned her head to Maya, her expression softening. “I know.”

Maya smiled and kissed the back of Carina’s hand, letting the silence between them settle into something peaceful. They still had so much ahead of them, but for now, in this quiet moment, they were home. And that was enough.

Just as Maya and Carina were settling into the quiet, the front door burst open with the energy of two very excited children.

“Mamma!” Andrea’s voice rang through the house as she sprinted inside, her backpack swinging wildly behind her. Liam followed closely, a little more composed but no less eager, his eyes lighting up the moment he saw Carina on the couch.

Katherine walked in behind them, shaking her head with a small smile. “They’ve been talking about this the whole drive home,” she said warmly.

Andrea didn’t hesitate she climbed right onto the couch, wrapping her small arms around Carina’s waist, pressing her face against her side. “You’re home,” she mumbled, her voice muffled but full of relief.

Carina’s breath hitched, her arms coming up to hold Andrea close. Si, Bambina , she whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her daughter’s head. “I’m home.”

Liam, standing beside the couch, hesitated for only a second before reaching for Carina’s hand. “I missed you,” he admitted, squeezing her fingers gently.

Carina turned to him, her eyes filled with emotion. “I missed you too, Bambino” She squeezed back, her grip firm, steady. “So much.”Andrea pulled back slightly, her big brown eyes searching Carina’s face. “Are you gonna stay home forever now?” she asked, hopeful.

Carina smiled softly, brushing a curl from Andrea’s face. “I’m not going back to the hospital,” she promised. “But I still have therapy and check-ups. It’ll take time, but I’ll be here as much as I can.”

Andrea nodded, satisfied with that answer, and then turned toward Maya. “Mom said we’re moving! Did she tell you ?

Maya let out a small laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. but yes… we’re moving Andy your mamma knows that.

Liam, ever the practical one, folded his arms. “Wait, you said when Mamma gets here ,I haven’t said bye to my friends.

Maya looked at Carina, who was still holding Liam’s hand. “Soon,” she said. “But not tomorrow. We’ll have time to get ready.”

Liam nodded slowly, his lips pressing together in thought. But when he looked back at Carina, something in his expression softened.

The house felt fuller than it had in weeks.Liam and Andrea barely left Carina’s side. The living room buzzed with their excited voices, both of them tripping over their words as they tried to tell her everything she had missed.

“And then, at school, we got to do this huge art project, Mamma Andrea waved her hands dramatically. “It was so big that we had to use the floor instead of the table!”

“And I scored two goals last week,” Liam added proudly. “Coach said I was fast. Like, reall fast, maybe he can make me captain next season.

Carina smiled, nodding along, her fingers brushing Andrea’s curls while she listened. It was the most at ease she had looked all day. But Maya could see the way her shoulders drooped, the exhaustion creeping in despite how much she tried to keep up with the kids’ energy.

After a while, Carina sighed and leaned her head back against the chair. “Bambini, I think I need a little nap.”

Andrea, instead of moving away, climbed onto Carina’s lap. “Then I’ll nap with you,” she declared, wrapping her small arms around Carina’s waist.

Liam grinned. “I got it.” He grabbed the wheelchair handles and, with careful determination, began pushing Carina toward the bedroom.

Maya stood in the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel as she watched them go.

Carina said something to Liam probably telling him to be careful but she didn’t push him away. She let him take care of her. Let them both take care of her.

Maya exhaled, her grip on the towel tightening for just a second.

The next morning Maya was up early getting the kids ready and making breakfast she moved around, pouring cereal into bowls and checking the time every few minutes. The kids were already halfway through getting ready, their backpacks dumped by the door, shoes scattered around as if they’d exploded off their feet the night before.

She was rinsing out a cup when she heard the familiar sound of wheels rolling across the floor.

Turning around, she found Carina in the doorway, looking a little tired but determined. Her hands rested on the wheels of her chair, her dark hair still slightly messy from sleep.

Maya blinked. “Hey. Morning.

Carina gave her a small, hesitant smile. “I smelled coffee.”

Maya chuckled and grabbed a mug. “I got you.” She poured Carina a cup, adding just the right amount of sugar before placing it in front of her.

Before Carina could take a sip, the sound of running footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Mamma!” Andrea’s voice was full of excitement as she skidded into the kitchen. “Are you coming with us today?”

Liam followed close behind, shoving a piece of toast into his mouth. “Yeah, you should come!

Carina’s fingers curled around her mug. She looked between the two of them, her expression soft but uncertain. “Oh, bambini, I don’t know…”

Andrea pouted. “But you always used to take us.”

Maya, who had been watching quietly, leaned against the counter and spoke up. “No pressure, babe. You just got home.

Carina hesitated, glancing down at her coffee. She wasn’t sure she was ready for the outside world yet, for the stares and the questions. But then she looked up at her kids, their eager faces waiting for her answer, glancing at the kids’ hopeful faces before nodding. “Okay… I’ll come.”

Andrea let out a delighted squeal and clapped her hands, while Liam grinned and gave an approving nod as if he had expected nothing less.

Maya smiled, pressing a quick kiss to Carina’s forehead before pushing off the counter. “Alright, let me grab you a hoodie and some shoes.”

She disappeared down the hall, and Carina took a slow sip of her coffee, trying to steady herself. It was strange something as simple as taking her kids to school suddenly felt like a big step. But they were looking at her like she was still the same, still Mamma Maybe that was enough.

Maya returned moments later, holding Carina’s favorite hoodie and a pair of comfortable shoes. She crouched in front of her, handing her the hoodie Then, she took her time putting on Carina’s shoes, making sure they were secure but not too tight.

“There,” Maya said, sitting back on her heels. “All set.”

Carina looked down at her, her heart aching at the tenderness in Maya’s hands, in her eyes.

Maya smiled. “And hey… maybe after we drop them off, we could go see the house?”

Carina hesitated, the thought of a new house stirring something deep inside her. Change was overwhelming right now, but the way Maya said it so softly, like she was offering, not pushing made it feel… possible.

She met Maya’s gaze, then nodded. “Okay.”

Maya grinned, standing up and kissing the top of her head again before turning to the kids. “Alright, finish up! We’re leaving in five!”

Andrea and Liam cheered, shoving the last bites of breakfast into their mouths. And for the first time in a long time, Carina felt just a little bit more like herself. they finally made it out the door. Maya helped Carina into the passenger seat, securing her wheelchair in the trunk before hopping into the driver’s seat. The kids chattered excitedly from the back as they drove to school, filling the car with stories about their friends and what they had planned for the day.

When they pulled up to the school, Andrea and Liam practically bounced in their seats.

“Bye, Mamma Bye, Mommy!” Andrea said, leaning over to hug Carina before opening the door.

Liam did the same, adding, “See you later!” before they both ran off toward the entrance.

Maya sighed, watching them go. “I swear, they get bigger every day.”

Carina chuckled softly, her fingers curling against her hoodie. “They do.”

Maya turned the key in the ignition, glancing at Carina. “Ready?”

Carina hesitated. It had been so long since she had gone anywhere that wasn’t a hospital or therapy room. The idea of seeing the house their future home felt… big. But when she looked at Maya, at the way she was watching her, waiting for her answer without pushing, she found herself nodding.

“Yes.”

Maya smiled. “Then let’s go.” they made their way to the new house. Maya kept a hand on the steering wheel, but every now and then, she’d glance at Carina, making sure she was okay.

When they finally pulled up, Carina’s breath caught. The house stood in front of them, warm and inviting, bathed in the golden light of morning. It was different from their old place spacious, with a wide front porch and large windows that overlooked the quiet street.

Maya parked and turned to Carina. “What do you think? “Carina swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest. “It’s beautiful.”

Maya grinned, reaching over to take her hand. “Let’s go inside.”

Maya came around to help, and helped her down by the time she was closing the doors Carina was already shifting into her wheelchair. She wanted to do this herself.

Rolling up the ramp, she reached the front door first. She hesitated, looking back at Maya, uncertainty flickering in her dark eyes.

Maya smiled. “Go ahead.”

Carina took a breath and pushed the door open.

Inside, sunlight streamed through the large windows, The open layout, the smooth surfaces, the details they had planned together all of it was real.

Carina moved slowly, taking it all in. The kitchen was perfect lowered counters so she could reach everything, a breakfast bar where the kids could sit and chat with her while she cooked. The living room was wide and open, with enough space for her to move freely without feeling confined.

She reached the hallway and paused outside what would be their bedroom. Their new beginning.

Maya stood beside her, watching the emotions flicker across her face. “Well?” she asked softly.

Carina’s hands clenched on her wheels. “It’s beautiful.”

“But?”

Carina exhaled shakily. “It’s not the house I imagined us in. Not the way I imagined.”

Maya nodded. “I know. And it’s okay to grieve that.” She turned, looking at her wife. “But this place? It’s still ours.

Carina closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply. The air smelled like fresh paint and new beginnings.

When she opened them, Maya was kneeling beside her, their eyes locking.

“We’ll make new memories here,” Maya whispered. No matter what.”

But as Maya reached for the doorknob of their bedroom, Carina forced herself to breathe through the anxiety.

Maya pushed open the door and stepped aside. “This is it,” she said softly. “Our room.”

Carina hesitated before rolling inside, her eyes sweeping over the space. It was large and airy, with a big window letting in golden afternoon light. The walls were painted a soft, calming blue Maya’s choice, no doubt. The bed was already set up, positioned in the center of the room, lower than their old one to make it easier for Carina to get in and out.

She rolled further in, testing the space. There was enough room for her to move freely, no tight corners or obstacles in her way. That mattered more than anything now.

Maya followed behind, watching her carefully. The stairs aren’t that high, the kids will always be nearby. And if they need us in the middle of the night, we won’t have to worry about them running up and down a whole staircase.”

Carina swallowed, her chest tightening. Maya had thought of everything.

Carina turned in place, facing her. “It’s perfect,” she admitted, her voice quiet.

Maya’s lips curled into a small smile. “It will be.”

Carina nodded, then turned toward the open doorway leading to their ensuite bathroom. She rolled forward, pushing inside, scanning the space. The layout was spacious, but she could already see the small obstacles counters that were too high, a shower without a bench, a mirror she couldn’t quite see herself in without craning her neck.

She swallowed hard. It wasn’t frustration she felt it was something deeper. Something closer to grief.

Maya stepped up beside her, her hand resting on Carina’s shoulder. “I know,” she said, as if she could hear every unspoken thought running through Carina’s mind. “It’s not ready yet. But I’ve already talked to the contractors. They’re coming back this week to install the adaptations. Lower counters, grab bars, a roll-in shower whatever you need.”

Carina let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Okay.”

Maya knelt beside her, squeezing her hand. “We’ll get there, Carina. We’ll make this house everything we need it to be. And I’ll be here with you, every step of the way.”

Carina looked down at their joined hands, then back at Maya’s face. There was so much love in her eyes, so much quiet determination. It made Carina’s heart ache in the best way.

She looked around their new bedroom, at the bed they’d soon share, at the bathroom that would eventually be made accessible for her, at the space they were creating together. It wasn’t what she had imagined for them, but Maya had thought of everything. She always did.

Carina turned back to her wife, her dark eyes soft with emotion. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Maya’s brows lifted slightly, and a small, teasing smile tugged at her lips. “For what?”

Carina exhaled, shaking her head slightly. “For this. For thinking of everything. For making sure I have what I need, even when I don’t know what that is.” Her voice trembled. “For never giving up on me.”

Maya’s expression softened, and she slowly lowered herself down, crouching so she was at Carina’s level. Her hands cupped Carina’s face gently, her thumbs brushing along her cheekbones. “I could never give up on you,” she whispered.

Carina’s breath caught as Maya leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. It was warm and familiar, grounding her in a way nothing else could. She melted into it, her fingers reaching up to tangle in Maya’s hoodie as she pulled her closer.

When they broke apart, Maya rested her forehead against Carina’s, her hands still cradling her face. Her voice was barely audible when she spoke. “I missed you.”

Carina blinked, her heart squeezing. “I’m right here.”

Maya pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. “I know. But for a while, I felt like I was losing you.” She swallowed hard. “And I didn’t know how to bring you back.”

Tears welled in Carina’s eyes. She had been gone, in a way lost in the depths of her own grief, struggling to accept the reality of her new life. But Maya had been there, steady and unwavering, waiting for her to find her way back.

Carina reached up, placing her hand over Maya’s. “I’m trying,” she whispered. “I don’t know how long it will take, but I’m trying.”

Maya smiled softly, her fingers threading through Carina’s dark curls. “That’s all I need.”

They stayed there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the world outside their new home fading away. For the first time in months, the distance between them didn’t feel so vast.

And in that quiet moment, Carina realized she wasn’t just trying. She was finding her way back.

Chapter Text

The house was still, except for the occasional creak of the floorboards as it settled. But inside Carina’s body, there was nothing still about this moment.

The spasms started subtly at first small, involuntary twitches in her legs that she had learned to ignore. But within minutes, they worsened, rippling through her muscles like electric shocks. Her hands clenched the sheets as she sucked in a sharp breath, willing herself to stay quiet.

She turned her head slightly, eyes scanning the empty space beside her in bed. Maya wasn’t there. She must have gone for her morning run, like always.

Relief and frustration tangled in her chest.

Relief because Maya wouldn’t see her like this. Wouldn’t see her struggling, wouldn’t have to rush to her side with that look of worry she always tried to hide.

Frustration because she needed her.

The spasms jerked her legs violently, her body arching slightly as she gritted her teeth, forcing herself not to cry out. The pain wasn’t unbearable she had been through worse but it was exhausting. And worst of all, there was nothing she could do but wait.

She didn’t know where medication was ,Maya kept it.Carina exhaled shakily, her eyes burning with unshed tears. These were the moments she hated the most. The moments when she felt utterly powerless, trapped in a body she no longer recognized.

She hated feeling weak. She hated needing help.

She hated not being normal.

Her breathing came faster, her heart pounding against her ribs as she tried to regain control. But control was something she no longer had not over her body, not over her future, not over any of this.

Minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity. Sweat dampened her skin as the spasms finally began to subside, leaving her exhausted and trembling.

She turned her head toward the door, listening. The faint sound of footsteps reached her ears Maya, finally coming back. She could hear the sound of Maya kicking off her running shoes, the rustle of fabric as she peeled off her sweatshirt. Carina swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady. “Maya?”

Maya froze mid-motion, her head snapping toward the bed. “Hey, you’re awake.” She smiled, walking over. “How long have you been up?”

Carina exhaled slowly. A while. I need my medicine.”

Maya nodded, but instead of reaching for the drawer, she tilted her head. “Which one?”

A silent leash. A hesitation before handing over what she needed. Carina swallowed back her irritation, forcing herself to stay calm. “The muscle relaxer, Maya,” she said, her voice edged with quiet frustration.

“I’ll get it,” Maya said finally, walking to the nightstand.

Carina let out a slow breath, staring at the ceiling again. She knew Maya was just being careful but it was fastresting.

Maya returned to the bedside with the pill bottle in her hand, her movements careful too careful, like she was handling something fragile. Something that might break.

Carina saw it. Felt it. And it only made her anger bubble hotter.

Maya held out the bottle. “Here,” she said, but her voice was laced with something else concern, hesitation.

Carina snatched it from her hand, fingers trembling with frustration. She struggled to open it, her hands weak from the lingering tension of the spasms. The damn childproof cap mocked her, adding to the growing storm inside her.

Maya moved slightly, like she was about to help, but Carina glared at her. “Don’t.”

Maya froze, stepping back, arms crossing over her chest.

Carina finally got the bottle open, shaking out a pill and swallowing it dry. She let the silence stretch before she finally spoke, her voice sharp, cutting. “If you would just keep the medicine where I can reach it, we wouldn’t have to do this every time.”

Maya’s jaw tensed. Carina

“No,” Carina snapped, the frustration she had been biting back spilling over. “You act like I’m some child who can’t be trusted, like I need you to control everything including this.” She gestured toward the bottle in her hand. “It would be better if I didn’t have to ask you for something that’s supposed to be mine and simple.

Maya’s face hardened, but there was pain flickering beneath her frustration. “You know why I keep them away.

Carina let out a bitter laugh. “Because of one night? One mistake? You don’t trust me now?Carina scoffed, shaking her head. “You’re always in control, Maya. Of everything. My medicine, my routine, my life. I can’t even have a damn choice without you second-guessing it.”

Maya’s expression twisted with hurt, but she didn’t back down. “I’m trying to help you, Carina!

Carina clenched her jaw, the weight of Maya’s words hitting her like a punch to the gut. Her anger wavered for a split second but the resentment was still there, thick and suffocating.I don’t need a caretaker she whispered harshly. “I need my wife

Maya blinked, as if the words had physically struck her. Silence hung heavy between them, thick with things neither of them knew how to fix.When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, careful. “I don’t want to control you, Carina.” A pause. “I just don’t know how to help

Carina’s was frustration bubbling over, raw and unfiltered. “You keep making decisions for us, Maya! The house, my treatment, everything it’s always you deciding, you controlling what happens next.” Her voice wavered, but she didn’t stop. “Did you ever think to ask me what I wanted?”

Maya’s jaw clenched, her breathing heavy. “You weren’t talking Carina!” she shot back, her voice thick with emotion. “The day you overdosed, if I hadn’t come home when I did…” She trailed off, her voice breaking. “You could have She sucked in a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair, trying to keep herself together. “You almost died

Carina’s chest tightened, shame creeping in, but the frustration was still there, pushing against it. “I know what I did, Maya,” she snapped.

Maya shook her head, her hands on her hips, her face a storm of emotions. “You say I make all the decisions, but what choice did I have? You don’t say what you want! You shut down, you push me away, and I’m just supposed to guess?

You’re not asking you’re just deciding things like I don’t get a says , what’s next tell me You’ve already decided everything for me, Maya,” she spat. “The house, my treatment, my medicine. What’s next? Are you going to decide if we ever have sex again too? And find some other sex partner, Her voice cracked, bitterness laced in every word. “Because let’s be honest I can’t even give you that anymore, right?”

Maya’s whole body went rigid. Her breath hitched, her fingers twitching at her sides. Carina…Her voice was quiet, low, like a warning.

Carina didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. The pain was too much, the frustration too overwhelming. “What if one day I hear you say it, huh? That you can’t do this anymore? That I’m not enough for you? That you.

Stop !

Maya’s voice was tight, her jaw clenched, her hands now fists at her sides.

But Carina pushed forward, unable to stop herself. “Maybe you’re already thinking it. Maybe you just haven’t said it yet

Stop!

This time, Maya’s voice cracked, but Carina barely registered it. The spiral had already pulled her in, drowning her in every insecurity, every fear she had tried to bury.

“You can’t control this, Maya! You can’t fix me! So what happens when you wake up one day and realize I’m not enough for you anymore?”

Maya’s face twisted with something unreadable pain, frustration, heartbreak all at once. And then, all at once, she snapped

Enough!

The word exploded from her, loud and sharp, cutting through the air like a whip.

Carina flinched.

Maya’s chest rose and fell in rapid breaths, her hands shaking. Her eyes, usually so full of love, were burning with something else now something raw and desperate.

Carina swallowed hard, her own breath shaky, her anger suddenly drowned by the weight of Maya’s reaction.

“Enough,” she whispered again, her voice barely audible this time. “Don’t put words into my mouth, Carina.”

Carina swallowed hard, her throat dry, but she didn’t respond.

And then, without another word, she turned on her heel and walked out of the room.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind her was like a punch to the gut.

Carina sat frozen, staring at the space Maya had just been standing in, her pulse roaring in her ears.

Maya didn’t remember making the decision to drive to the station. She just… ended up there. Her hands were still gripping the steering wheel, her knuckles white, as she sat in the parking lot staring at the familiar building. And yet, when she had nowhere else to go, this was where she ended up.

She sighed and ran a hand down her face before finally pushing open the door and stepping out.

She didn’t know what she was looking for. Maybe she just needed a place where she wasn’t drowning.Maya didn’t even make it past the entrance before she heard a familiar voice.

Captain Deluca-Bishop?

She froze.

Andy stood near the lockers, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, giving Maya a look that cut right through her. A look that said she knew something was wrong. Maya forced a tight smile, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket.

Andy scoffed. You’re working night shift?”

Maya didn’t answer.

Andy sighed, stepping closer, dropping her voice. “I know this version of you, Maya.” Her tone softened, her eyes searching Maya’s face. “The one who shows up here when she doesn’t know where else to go.”

Maya’s jaw clenched, her body stiffening. She wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t ready for someone to see her this clearly.

Andy didn’t wait for a response. Instead, she nodded toward her office. “Come on.”

Maya hesitated for half a second, but Andy gave her that look the one that meant she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

With a heavy sigh, Maya followed. The office door clicked shut behind them, sealing them off from the noise of the station. Andy walked over to her desk, leaning against it, arms still crossed, waiting.

Maya stood there, shifting on her feet, arms still wrapped around herself like she was holding herself together.

Andy studied her for a long moment before speaking. “Talk to me.”

Maya let out a sharp breath, shaking her head. “It’s nothing.”

Andy arched an eyebrow. “Bullshit.”

Maya let out a humorless chuckle, looking away. “Of course you don’t let me get away with that.”

Andy’s voice softened. “Not when you walk in here looking like you just ran out of your own house.”

She didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to admit how much the fight with Carina had wrecked her, how much she felt like she was losing control of everything.

But Andy just stood there, patient, waiting like she had all the time in the world.And suddenly, it was too much.

Maya exhaled shakily, her voice cracking. “We had a fight.”

Andy nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Maya’s hands curled into fists at her sides. Bad bad one.” Her breath hitched as the weight of it all crashed over her again. “I walked away, Andy. I left

Andy’s face softened, but she didn’t interrupt.

Maya let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “She thinks I don’t trust her. That I’m controlling everything. And maybe I am. Maybe I don’t know how to stop” She ran a hand through her hair, her voice breaking. “I just I don’t know how to do this. How not be afraid all the time. How to not hold on so tight that I end up pushing her away.”

Andy took a deep breath, nodding like she understood every word.

And then, she simply said, “Maya… have you ever thought about what you need?”

Maya blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

Andy tilted her head. “You keep saying what Carina thinks, what Carina feels, what Carina wants. But what about you ? What do you need, Maya?”

Maya opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Because the truth was… she didn’t know.

Andy saw the realization flicker across Maya’s face and nodded knowingly. “Yeah. Thought so.” She pushed off the desk and stepped closer, her voice gentle but firm. “Look, I’m not telling you to walk away. I’m not telling you to stop fighting for her. But I am telling you to stop drowning yourself in the process.”

Maya swallowed hard, blinking back the sting of tears.

Andy placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to fix this all at once. But maybe… you need to stop trying to fix everything alone.”

Maya let out a sharp breath, her jaw clenching as frustration surged again. “Maybe if Carina actually talked to me, this wouldn’t be happening.” Her voice was tight, thick with emotion. “Maybe if she told me what she needed what she wanted I wouldn’t feel like I have to fix everything all the time, but no her mood changes every second.

Andy’s brows furrowed, but she didn’t interrupt. She just listened.

Maya shook her head, pacing a little. “She bottles everything up Andy. And then it all comes out in the worst possible way. Like today.” She let out a humorless laugh, blinking back tears.Her voice cracked at the end, and she quickly wiped at her eyes, hating how raw she felt.

Andy sighed, crossing her arms. Yeah. That sounds like Carina these days Andy held her gaze. “So tell her that.”

Maya let out another bitter laugh. “You think I haven’t?” She shook her head. “She doesn’t hear me, Andy. Or maybe she does, but she doesn’t believe me. And now… now she’s said itshe thinks I’ll wake up one day and decide she’s not enough.”

Andy’s expression softened. “Do you believe that?” Maya’s head snapped up. “What?”

Andy stepped closer. “Do you believe that Carina isn’t enough for you?”

Maya’s breath hitched, and she shook her head immediately. “Of course not.”

Andy nodded. “Then tell her. Again. And again. And again, if you have to. Because right now? It sounds like she’s so lost in her own pain that she can’t see what’s right in front of her.”

Maya swallowed hard, the lump in her throat tightening.Maya let out a shaky breath, nodding slightly.

She was so damn tired. But she wasn’t ready to give up. Not on Carina. Not on them.

Andy placed both hands on her hips, her voice firm but laced with something softer underneath. “Okay, listen to me.” She took a step closer, leveling Maya with a pointed look. “Go home.”

Maya blinked, caught off guard What?

Andy rolled her eyes. “Go home Maya. Take a damn shower Eat something. Breathe. Then then figure out how to talk to your wife.”

Maya let out a humorless chuckle. “You really think a shower is going to fix my marriage?”

Andy arched a brow. “No, but it’ll make you smell less like regret and emotional exhaustion.”

Maya exhaled sharply, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips despite everything.

Andy softened, nudging her shoulder. “Seriously, go home. You can’t fight for Carina if you’re falling apart yourself.”

Maya looked down, swallowing hard. She wanted to argue, to say she wasn’t falling apart. But she was so damn tired of pretending.

She nodded slowly. “Yeah. Okay.”

Andy clapped her on the back. “Good. And maybe just maybe try actually talking to your wife instead of assuming the worst?”

Maya sighed. “Yeah. I’ll try.”

“Good.” Andy smirked. “Now get out of my office before I drag you into the station showers myself.”

Maya let out a small chuckle, shaking her head as she turned toward the door.

As she walked out, she didn’t know exactly how she was going to fix things with Carina.

But she knew one thing for sure.

She was going home.

Chapter Text

Maya pulled into the driveway, gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. The house stood quiet and still in the early morning light, but inside, she knew everything was far from calm.

She sat there for a moment, taking a deep breath before finally stepping out. The cool air hit her skin, a brief jolt of clarity before she made her way inside.

The house smelled of coffee and the faint traces of sleep, and for a second, it felt almost normal. Like it had before. Before the accident. Before the pain. Before everything had started slipping through her fingers.

Maya shut the door behind her, listening. The house was quiet Carina was probably still in the bedroom, the kids either playing or watching cartoons.

She needed a minute. She needed to breathe.

A Moment to Reset
Without thinking, Maya found herself climbing the stairs to their former bedroom. The one they had shared before everything changed. The bed was still made up, though untouched, a relic of their old life.

She stepped into the bathroom, turning on the shower. Steam filled the space as she peeled off her clothes, the weight of the night of the fight clinging to her skin like a second layer.

The hot water hit her muscles, and for the first time in hours, she let herself feel.

The exhaustion. The frustration. The heartbreak.

She braced her hands against the tile, letting the water run over her face, trying to wash away the ache sitting deep in her chest. Andy had been right she couldn’t walk back into this house and fix everything in one conversation.

But she could try.

She just needed to get out of her own way first.

By the time she stepped out, wrapping herself in a towel, her body felt lighter, though her mind was still heavy with everything left unsaid.

Breakfast and a New Approach
Dressed in fresh clothes, Maya padded downstairs, moving toward the kitchen on autopilot. She didn’t know where Carina was probably still in their new room but she knew one thing: her wife hadn’t eaten.

So Maya did what she knew how to do.

She cooked.

The sound of eggs sizzling in the pan, the steady rhythm of chopping fruit it was grounding, familiar. A way to do something, even when she felt like she had no control over anything else.

As she stirred, she let her thoughts settle.

She couldn’t force Carina to open up. She couldn’t erase the words they had thrown at each other in the heat of the moment.

But she could stop assuming the worst. She could ask what Carina needed instead of deciding for her. She could remind her, over and over, that she wasn’t going anywhere.

The smell of breakfast filled the kitchen, warm and inviting.Soft footsteps padded down the stairs.

Andrea appeared first, still in her pajamas, her curls wild from sleep. She rubbed her eyes with tiny fists, her stuffed bunny dangling from her other hand.

Maya smiled softly. “Morning, baby.”

Andrea yawned as she climbed onto her chair at the table. “Morning, Mommy.”

Maya set a small plate in front of her. “Pancakes, just how you like them.”

Andrea’s face lit up instantly. “With the little blueberries?”

Maya chuckled. “Of course.”

As Andrea started eating, Liam came bounding down the stairs, more awake than his little sister. He slid into his chair, grabbing a fork before Maya could even set his plate down.

“Morning, bud.”

“Morning,” Liam mumbled through a mouthful of food. He chewed quickly, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Mum can I go to Zach’s house later? He lives just a few blocks away, remember?

She looked at Liam, really looked at him.Her instinct was to say no immediately. To keep him close. To control the situation, to make sure he was safe, to be the one deciding.

But that was exactly the problem, wasn’t it?

Instead of answering right away, Maya just looked at Liam, the spoon in his hand, the expectant look on his face.

She realized she had no idea what she was going to say.

Liam shoved another bite of pancake into his mouth, already moving on, as if his request was just a formality. “Me and Zach wanna ride our bikes today.” He spoke casually, like the answer was already yes.

“If you take Andrea with you, maybe you can go.”

Liam’s fork froze mid-air. His head snapped up, eyes wide with immediate protest. “What? That’s not fair!”

Andrea, still happily munching on her pancakes, perked up. “I wanna go!”

Liam groaned dramatically, pushing his plate away mum come on! Zach’s house is only a few blocks away! Why do I have to take her?

Maya just took a sip of her coffee, unfazed. “That’s the deal, bud.”

Liam let out a frustrated sigh, slumping in his chair. “This is so unfair.”

Maya didn’t respond. She just ruffled his hair on her way past him, leaving him to complain under his breath as she made her way toward the bedroom.

She didn’t know what version of Carina she was about to walk into the one who would pretend everything was fine? The one still wrapped in anger? The one too exhausted to fight anymore?

She took a slow breath and opened the door.

Carina was awake, but still laying up in bed, staring at nothing in particular. Her expression was unreadable, but Maya could see the weight of last night still pressing down on her.

Maya hesitated in the doorway. “Hey.”

Carina’s eyes flickered toward her, but she didn’t say anything.

Maya stepped inside, shutting the door softly behind her. “I made breakfast,” she said, keeping her voice careful, neutral. “The kids are eating already.

Carina nodded slightly but still didn’t respond.

Maya swallowed, stepping closer. “Can we talk?”

Silence stretched between them. Then, finally, Carina met her eyes.

Carina didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t breathe for a moment. She just stared at Maya, her dark eyes unreadable.

Maya’s heart pounded, but she forced herself to step closer. To face this.She exhaled slowly, then spoke, her voice quieter than she expected. “What you said this earlier …” She shook her head, trying to steady herself. “That broke me, Carina.”

Carina’s fingers twitched against the blanket, but she said nothing.

Maya’s throat tightened, but she didn’t stop. “You think I’ll wake up one day and decide you’re not enough for me. That I’ll look at you and… and not want this anymore.” She let out a sharp, uneven breath. “But that not fair, Carina.”

Carina swallowed hard, her gaze finally dropping.

Maya took another step closer, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m in love with you. I have been since the moment I met you, and nothing changes that.” Her hands curled into fists at her sides. “Not this house, not your chair, not the fact that we haven’t had sex in months. I don’t care about any of that, Carina, because I didn’t fall in love with your body. I fell in love with you.

Carina’s breath hitched, her hands gripping the blanket tightly.

Maya shook her head, frustration mixing with pain. “Do you even realize what it does to me when you say things like that? When you make it seem like I’m just waiting to leave ?” She scoffed, running a hand through her hair. “You push me away and then act like I’m the one who doesn’t trust you.”

Carina finally looked up, and Maya could see it the guilt, the hurt, the war going on inside her.

Maya’s voice softened, her anger giving way to something else. “I need you to believe me, Carina. I need you to trust that I’m not going anywhere.” She took one more step forward, close enough now to touch her, but she didn’t. Not yet. “Can you do that?”

Carina’s silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Maya could see the emotions flickering in her eyes guilt, sadness, something else she couldn’t quite name. But she was done guessing.

Maya let out a shaky breath and ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t like that your mood changes every five minutes, Carina,” she admitted, her voice raw. “I don’t like feeling like I never know which version of you I’m going to get. But I also know this isn’t easy for you. I know that.”

Carina’s grip on the blanket tightened, her knuckles turning white.

Maya stepped closer, her tone softening. “I don’t expect you to be okay all the time. I don’t need you to pretend. But I do need you to talk to me.” Her voice wavered, but she pushed through. “I can’t keep guessing what you need. I can’t keep making decisions because you won’t.”

Carina swallowed hard, her dark eyes finally meeting Maya’s. Maya exhaled. “I love you. But I need you to meet me halfway.”

That made the ache in Carina’s chest even worse. Her voice trembled as she finally spoke. “I’m… sorry”

She blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the wave of emotion crashing into her. “I She shook her head, frustrated with herself. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to say those things.” Her voice cracked, but she pushed through. “I don’t She exhaled sharply, closing her eyes for a brief moment before looking at Maya again. “I don’t actually believe you’re going to wake up one day and leave me. But sometimes… sometimes, it feels like you should.”

Maya’s face crumbled, her eyes glassy, but she stayed silent, letting Carina speak.

Tears slipped down Carina’s cheeks as she continued. “I feel like I’m not the person you married anymore. Like I’m just this… And I know you keep saying I’m not, but I don’t know how to stop feeling like I am.” She let out a shaky breath. “And when I feel that way, I push you. I push you so hard just to see if you’ll break if you’ll finally decide you can’t do this anymore.”

Maya let out a broken sound, something between a breath and a sob, shaking her head furiously. “Carina…”

Carina squeezed her eyes shut, pressing a hand to her face. “I know it’s not fair to you. I know I make it harder.” She let out a trembling exhale, her voice so quiet it was barely there. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Maya didn’t say anything at first. She just moved.

In an instant, she was crouching in front of Carina, taking her face in her hands, wiping away the tears with the pads of her thumbs. “Hey,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I don’t care if you’ve changed. I don’t care if this is hard. I love you, Carina. That’s not something you have to earn. That’s not something that disappears because things aren’t perfect.”

Carina let out a quiet sob, leaning into Maya’s touch.

Carefully, Maya shifted closer, her hands gentle as she helped Carina sit up properly. Carina moved with her, her body still tense, still holding onto something unspoken.

Once Carina was upright, Maya slid down to the floor in front of her, balancing Carina’s legs over her own. It wasn’t much just a way to make sure Carina felt anchored, to remind her she wasn’t alone.

Maya’s hands found Carina’s, squeezing them gently. “Tell me,” she murmured. “Say what you want.”

Carina hesitated, biting her lip, her fingers twitching in Maya’s grasp.

Maya squeezed again, firmer this time. “No more bottling it up. No more letting it explode later. Tell me.”

Carina swallowed hard, then finally, she spoke.“I want a private specialist and therapist,” she whispered. “And private another private hospital.

Maya blinked, surprised but not reacting not yet. She just nodded, encouraging her to continue.

Carina’s voice was quiet but unwavering. “I know the hospital is good but i don’t want to go there any more, Maya. I need to feel like someone is focusing just on me. Like… like I’m not just another patient in a rotation with people i know.

Maya exhaled, her thumb rubbing slow circles over Carina’s hand. “Okay…”

Carina’s grip tightened, her breath hitching. And then she said it the part she had been holding back, the part Maya could feel coming but wasn’t sure she was ready for.” I believe I can walk again. Maya’s stomach twisted.

Carina’s dark eyes shimmered with something fragile hope, desperation, maybe a mix of both. “Amelia… she said it could be possible. She said my body still has a chance to respond. And I believe her.”

Maya’s chest ached. She wanted to believe it too. She wanted to give Carina everything she was asking for. But she had seen the damage. She going to lived through every moment of Carina’s recovery the brutal truth of it, and what if her body refused to do what it once did.

And yet, as much as Maya wanted to tell her it was impossible, she couldn’t bring herself to say it, Because Carina was finally talking. Finally asking.

And Maya couldn’t be the one to take that away from her. So she swallowed back her own doubts, forced her own fears down, and nodded. “Okay,” she whispered.

Maya lifted a hand, brushing a stray curl behind Carina’s ear. “We’ll find you the best doctors. The best therapist. Whatever you need.” Her voice softened, breaking slightly. “I don’t know if Amelia is right, Carina. I don’t know if that’s possible.” She exhaled. “But if you believe it… then I’ll fight with you.”

But she had something to say too. Something she knew Carina wouldn’t like.

Maya swallowed, her voice careful but firm. “I have a request too.”

Carina tilted her head slightly, her fingers still gripping Maya’s. “Okay…”

Maya took a slow breath, preparing for the storm that was about to hit. “I think we should hire a nurse.”

The second the words left her mouth, Carina stiffened.

“No,” she said immediately, her voice flat, final.

Maya expected that. But she wasn’t letting it go. “Carina ……

“I said no,” Carina snapped, pulling her hands away.

Maya let out a slow, measured breath, keeping her voice calm even though frustration was already creeping in. “I know you don’t want that and I knew you’d say no. But listen to me.”

Carina crossed her arms, her jaw tight. “I don’t need a nurse, Maya. I have you

Maya let out a sad, tired laugh, shaking her head. “Carina, I have work. And what if you get sick?” Maya cut in, her voice sharper now. “What if you’re alone, and something happens and no one is here?”

Carina’s breathing was unsteady now, her eyes darting away.

Maya squeezed her hands. “I need to know that if something happens if I’m at work, if the kids are at school you won’t be alone Her voice cracked slightly. “I can’t lose you, Carina.”

Carina exhaled shakily, blinking rapidly, trying to hold back tears. “I don’t want to feel like… like a patient in my own home.”

Maya’s heart clenched. “I know. And that’s not what this is.” She reached up, cupping Carina’s face gently. “But I need you to meet me halfway. You want doctors who believe in your recovery? I’ll get them. You want therapy? I’ll make it happen. But I need to know you’re okay when I can’t be here.” Maya stroked her thumb over Carina’s cheek. “Please.”

Gently, Maya ran her hands down Carina’s arms, grounding her. “Listen to me,” she said softly but firmly. “The caregiver isn’t forever.”

Carina’s lips pressed together, her eyes dark and unreadable. “It feels like it.”

Maya shook her head. “No. This is just until you can do most things on your own again. Once that happens once you feel comfortable and safe then we’ll get rid of the caregiver. But until then…” She exhaled, squeezing Carina’s hands. Need to know that you’re taken care of

Only part-time,” she whispered.

Maya’s own breath hitched. Relief crashed over her, and she nodded immediately. “Okay. Part-time.”

Chapter Text

The new house was still a mess. Boxes stacked in corners, half-unpacked bags shoved against the walls, a constant reminder that they were still settling. But despite the chaos, life had started to feel… normal again. Or at least, as normal as it could be.

The morning was the usual whirlwind Liam stuffing his backpack with last-minute items, Andrea half-dressed and spinning in circles instead of putting her shoes on, and Maya rushing through the kitchen, trying to grab coffee while also getting ready for work.

Carina sat at the dining table, sipping her tea, more awake than the rest of them but still moving at her own pace.

And then because of course Andrea ran up to her at the last possible second, shoving a piece of paper in her face. “Mamma, sign this!”

Carina blinked, startled, then took the paper. “Adesso? Right now?”Andrea nodded urgently, bouncing on her toes. “Yes! It’s for school, and I forgot, but I need it today!”

Maya, already halfway across the kitchen, spun around, her eyes narrowing. “Now? Andy why now?”

Andrea turned to Maya with wide, innocent eyes. “Because I forgot I’m sorry. Maya groaned, running a hand through her hair. “Of course you did.”

Carina chuckled softly as she scanned the paper, signing it with practiced ease. “Relax, Bella it’s just a permission slip.”

Andrea took the paper back from Carina and grinned. “Thanks, Mamma!”

Liam, barely looking up from his cereal, muttered, “She does this every time.”

Andrea stuck her tongue out at him before dashing to grab her things.

Maya huffed, but she leaned down to press a quick kiss to Carina’s lips anyway.

Ana will be here any minute,” Maya reminded gently. Carina’s jaw tightened slightly, but she gave a small nod. “I know.”

Maya stepped closer, crouching slightly to meet her wife’s gaze. “You’re going to be fine.”

Carina exhaled, a flicker of hesitation passing through her expression. “I know that too.”

A knock at the door interrupted them.

Maya stood, giving Carina’s hand one last squeeze before moving to open it. The caregiver a kind-looking woman in her mid-thirties stood outside, offering a polite smile. Good morning Mrs. DeLuca-Bishop,” she greeted warmly.

Maya stepped back, letting Ana inside. She turned to Carina, hesitation flickering in her chest, but she pushed past

Good morning! she said softly, brushing her fingers over Carina’s shoulder. Be nice

Carina nodded, her expression unreadable. “Go,. You’re already late.”

Maya chuckled, leaning down to press another gentle kiss to her lips. “I love you.”

Carina held onto her hand for just a second longer before letting go. “I love you too. “she sat still for a moment after Maya left, the sound of the front door closing echoing through the house. The morning rush had passed, leaving behind a quiet she wasn’t sure she liked. She exhaled slowly, looking down at her hands in her lap.

She understood that Maya had spent most of her time taking care of the kids, the house, her Every day, Liam and Andrea would appear around the house, fed and happy, taking them to therapy and everything was running smoothly because Maya made sure it did, the least she could do was try. Even if it killed her.

She glanced up at Ana, she didn’t accept any help on her first day , The woman was standing near the table, hands folded in front of her, offering a polite but patient smile.

“You can just call me Carina,” she said, waving off any formalities. Ana nodded. “Of course. Carina.”

A brief silence stretched between them before Ana tilted her head slightly. “What’s on the schedule for today?”

Carina sighed, rubbing at her temple. “Therapy at ten.”

Ana nodded again, as if she’d already memorized it. “Alright. That gives us some time.”

Carina expected her to hover, to ask more questions, to try and help in a way that made her feel even more helpless. But instead, Ana simply said, “I’ll go tidy up your room,” before walking down the hall, leaving Carina alone in the kitchen.

Carina let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She wasn’t sure she liked this having someone around, watching, waiting to assist when she did want to need help.

When they arrived, Ana parked smoothly, cutting the engine before glancing over at Carina. “Ready?”

Carina let out a breath, then gave a single nod. She didn’t feel ready. She never really did. But that didn’t change the fact that she was here.

Ana got out first, moving around to open Carina’s door. With practiced patience, she helped Carina transfer into her wheelchair, not rushing, not making her feel smothered. It was something Carina appreciated hated, but appreciated.

Once she was settled, she adjusted herself, straightening her posture, her fingers gripping the wheels. she rolled forward toward the entrance of the rehabilitation center.

The new rehabilitation center smelled of antiseptic and fresh linen, the air crisp and sterile, like every other medical facility Carina had spent too much time in since the accident. But this one was different.

Private doctors, private therapy sessions everything she had asked for. No more waiting in crowded hallways, no more feeling like just another patient on a long list. This was supposed to make things better.

But as she sat in the waiting area, her stomach churned with nerves. A nurse approached, offering a kind smile. “Carina DeLuca-Bishop?”

Carina exhaled and nodded. Ana, who had been quietly observing beside her, stood as well.

They were led down a quiet hallway, the floors smooth and gleaming under the bright lights. The room they entered was smaller than she expected, but well-equipped exam tables, machines she didn’t recognize, monitors displaying unfamiliar readings.

Then, the door opened again, and a man in a black shirt stepped inside.“Mrs. DeLuca-Bishop?” he asked, his voice even but professional. “I’m Dr. Reynolds. It’s nice to meet you.”

Carina nodded, her fingers gripping the armrest of her chair a little tighter. “Carina is fine.”

Dr. Reynolds pulled up a stool, flipping open a file. “So, I’ve gone over your medical history, and today we’ll start with an Electromyography (EMG) and Nerve Conduction Study. It’ll help us see how your nerves are functioning, what’s responding, and where we can focus therapy.”

Carina swallowed, nodding stiffly.

Dr. Reynolds studied her carefully. “I won’t lie it can be uncomfortable. Some patients find it painful. If at any point you need to stop, let me know.”

Carina was moved onto the exam table, her legs stretched out in front of her. Ana adjusted a pillow behind her back without asking, and though Carina wanted to snap that she could do it herself, she bit her tongue.

She needed to pick her battles.

Dr. Reynolds started with the Nerve Conduction Study first. He placed electrodes on different areas of her legs, explaining as he went. “This part will feel like small electrical pulses. We’re checking how well your nerves are communicating with your muscles.”
The first pulse came a sharp snap against her skin.

Carina inhaled sharply, her hands clenching at the sheet beneath her.

“Breathe through it,” Dr. Reynolds instructed. “It’s quick, but I know it’s unpleasant.”

Another pulse. Another sharp sting.

Carina’s breath hitched. It wasn’t painful, exactly, but it sent an uncomfortable jolt deep into her muscles, making them twitch involuntarily. The sensation made her stomach turn.

Ana shifted slightly beside her, watching, but not interfering. Carina forced herself not to look at her, to not search for sympathy.

The pulses continued, moving from her lower leg to her thigh. Each time, her body reacted in small, involuntary movements, but she felt nothing.

The numbness where there should have been pain made her chest tighten.

After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Reynolds moved on. “Now the EMG,” he said, switching out the equipment.

This was worse.

A thin needle electrode was inserted into her muscle, and this time, it did hurt. A deep, aching sensation spread through her leg as the machine recorded electrical activity.

Carina’s fingers dug into the sheet. Her breath was shallow now, her jaw clenched so tightly it ached.

“Try to relax,” Dr. Reynolds said gently. The machine beeped, the sounds echoing in the sterile room. Her nerves crackled and popped in response, a strange, erratic rhythm that meant something but she didn’t know what.

Her hands were shaking.

Ana, still standing nearby, finally moved. She reached out not touching, not forcing, just offering. Carina hesitated, then, against her own stubbornness, let her hand rest in Ana’s

The test continued, each needle insertion bringing a new wave of discomfort, but Carina stayed silent.

“Next, we’ll assess spasticity,” Dr. Reynolds said, adjusting his gloves. “I’ll move your legs through different positions to evaluate muscle stiffness and involuntary contractions.”

Dr. Reynolds started gently, lifting her right leg, bending it at the knee, then extending it again. It was fine. At first.

But as he continued, stretching and flexing, her muscles began to tighten. Carina’s breath grew uneven.

Her body her traitorous uncooperative body started to resist, her legs stiffening involuntarily.

Dr. Reynolds kept his voice calm. “Try to relax.”

The more he moved her, the worse it got. The stiffness turned into a deep, pulling tension, like her muscles were rebelling against her. Her foot jerked suddenly, a sharp tremor running up her leg.

Then another. And then her entire leg spammed, a violent, uncontrollable movement that sent pain shooting through her limb. Carina gasped, gripping the table, her breath ragged.

Dr. Reynolds immediately eased up, lowering her leg slightly. “It’s okay,” he said quickly. “Just breathe through it.”

But Carina couldn’t. Her other leg twitched, the tension spreading like wildfire. She hated this hated the way her body fought against her, how no matter how much she willed it to stop, it wouldn’t

Her breath came in shallow, panicked gasps.

Another spasm shot through her, her body jolting against her will. A broken, frustrated sound escaped her throat before she could stop it.

Dr. Reynolds stayed patient, his hands steady but not forcing movement anymore. “Let’s pause.

Carina let out a shaky exhale, blinking rapidly to force back the tears threatening to spill.After a long moment, the spasms began to settle, leaving her exhausted and trembling.

Dr. Reynolds finally leaned back, nodding. “Your spasticity levels are high, which is expected given the injury and nerve activity we just stimulated.” He met her gaze carefully. “I know this isn’t easy, but these responses tell us a lot about where to focus treatment.”

Carina barely nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

Ana, still standing beside her, subtly slid a bottle of water into her hand. Carina hesitated, then took it, not drinking just holding it. Something solid. Something grounding.

The car ride home was quiet. Carina stared out the window, barely seeing the streets and houses passing by. Her body felt drained her muscles sore from the endless tests, her nerves still tingling from the electrical pulses and spasms.

But more than anything, she was exhausted

Not just physically, but in a way that seeped into her bones, weighing her down like an anchor.

Ana didn’t push her to talk. She simply drove, her hands steady on the wheel, the radio playing softly in the background. Carina was grateful for that. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to think. She just wanted to stop existing for a little while.

By the time they pulled into the driveway, Carina barely had the energy to push her own wheelchair forward. Ana helped her inside, but Carina waved her off once they reached the living room.

“I’m going to take a nap,” she muttered, her voice hoarse. The second she reached the bed, she didn’t bother changing or adjusting the pillows. She just slid in, curling onto her side as much as her body would allow.

Carina stirred, her body heavy with exhaustion. At first, she thought she was dreaming the faint feeling of someone shaking her, a voice calling her name. But as the touch grew firmer, more insistent, her eyes fluttered open.

Ana was kneeling beside the bed, her brows furrowed in concern. “Carina,” she said gently but firmly, “you need to eat something.”

Carina groaned softly, her head pounding as she shifted. Every muscle in her body ached, the remnants of the morning’s tests still lingering in her limbs. She barely had the energy to respond.

Then Ana frowned, pressing the back of her hand to Carina’s forehead.

Carina weakly tried to pull away, but Ana didn’t let her.

“You’re warm,” Ana noted, her tone shifting to something more serious. “Have you felt sick today?”

Carina blinked, trying to focus, but her body did feel too hot, her skin clammy, her head light. She hadn’t noticed before, but now that Ana pointed it out, there was a heaviness in her chest, a dull ache in her muscles beyond just fatigue.

“I’m fine,” Carina muttered, voice hoarse.

Ana didn’t buy it. She stood up quickly, moving toward the dresser where she had already familiarized herself with Carina’s medications. “You need to take something to bring the fever down,” she said firmly, grabbing the prescribed pills and a bottle of water.

Carina sighed, closing her eyes again.

Ana handed her the pills and watched closely as Carina swallowed them with a few slow sips of water.She let out a slow breath, leaning her head back against the pillow. “I just need a little more rest.”

Ana nodded but didn’t move right away. “I’ll check on you in a bit. And when you wake up, you are eating something.”

Carina rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

As Ana left the room, Carina closed her eyes again, her body still feverish and aching, but her mind drifting toward something else.

When Carina woke again, the heaviness in her body had eased. The fever had broken, leaving her slightly weak but no longer drowning in exhaustion. She exhaled slowly, running a hand through her hair before shifting herself upright.

She pushed herself into her wheelchair, rolling toward the kitchen, where the scent of food still lingered in the air.As she entered, she found Ana sitting at the dining table, legs crossed, a book resting in her hands. The woman looked relaxed, absorbed in whatever she was reading, but as soon as she sensed Carina’s presence, she glanced up and closed the book.

“You’re up,” Ana said with a small smile. “Feeling better?”

Carina nodded, moving toward the Yes,” she admitted, her voice still slightly raspy from sleep. “I needed the rest.”

Carina watched as Ana unwrapped the plate, and warming it u.

As she started eating, Ana leaned back in her chair. “You know,” she said casually, “I should you how to cook again.

Carina raised an eyebrow, chewing slowly. “Really?”

Ana nodded. “Yeah. It’s all about adaptation. You’d be surprised how much you can still do with the right setup.”

Still, she hummed in response. “That sounds… interesting.”

Ana smirked. “That’s the polite way of saying you don’t believe me.”

Carina let out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head. “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”

A small silence settled between them. Ana didn’t push, just let Carina eat at her own pace. But as Carina took another bite, a question formed in her mind one she didn’t want to ask, but one she suddenly needed to.

She set her fork down and looked at Ana carefully.

“Have you ever worked with someone who… lost their marriage after something like this?”

Ana didn’t react right away. Her expression remained neutral, but there was something in her eyes a flicker of understanding.

“Yes,” she said honestly.

Carina’s stomach twisted. “Why?”

Ana sighed, folding her hands together. “For a lot of reasons. Some people couldn’t handle the changes. Some just… stopped trying. And some marriages weren’t as strong as people thought they were.” She studied Carina for a moment before adding, “But I’ve also seen couples who made it through. Who came out stronger.

Carina swallowed. “And what made the difference?”

Ana tilted her head. “They stopped being afraid of talking about what was really wrong.”

Because she knew, deep down, what Ana was really saying.

She inhaled shakily, glancing down at her plate. She wasn’t sure she had an appetite anymore.

Ana, sensing the shift in mood, stood up. “I’ll be around if you need anything.” She didn’t press further, didn’t tell Carina what to do. She just left her with her thoughts.

Carina’s fingers twitched slightly against the edge of the table as she watched Ana turn to leave. Something inside her twisted she wanted to say something.

Maybe not everything. Maybe not the deepest, most painful thoughts running through her mind. But something

“Ana, wait,” she said suddenly, her voice quiet but firm.

Ana paused, glancing back at her with a raised brow. “Yeah?”

Carina swallowed, her heart beating a little faster. “I…” She hesitated, words forming on her tongue but refusing to come out.

And then, before she could force them into existence.

The front door swung open, followed by the sound of small, excited voices filling the space.

“Mamma!”

Carina barely had time to react before Andrea rushed toward her, curly hair bouncing as she threw herself into Carina’s lap, tiny arms wrapping around her tightly.

Carina let out a small, surprised laugh, instinctively holding her daughter close.

Liam followed right behind, more composed but still grinning as he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Carina’s cheek. “Hi, Mamma.”

Carina’s chest ached this time in a way that felt warm, not heavy.

“Ciao, tesori she murmured, kissing Andrea’s forehead.

Behind them, Maya walked in, looking slightly worn but still radiant in that effortless way of hers. She met Carina’s gaze for a moment, something unreadable passing between them before she turned her attention back to the kids.

“Alright, little monsters,” Maya said, ruffling Liam’s hair. “Go get changed.

Liam groaned but obeyed, heading toward the hallway.

Andrea giggled but sighed dramatically, sliding off Carina’s lap and skipping off after her brother.

As the kids disappeared down the hall, the house settled into a different kind of quiet one filled with unspoken words.

Maya exhaled, setting her keys down on the counter. Then, finally, she looked at Carina again. Still, “Mind if I join you?”

Carina glanced up, her expression unreadable, then gestured toward the chair across from her. “Of course.”

Maya sat down, resting her elbows on the table, letting a small silence stretch between them before she spoke. “How was your day?”

Carina reached for her glass of water, taking a slow sip before answering. “Therapy,” she said simply.

Maya frowned slightly. “And… how was that?”

Carina set the glass down, her fingers tracing along the rim. “Fine, I don’t know if hurt a little.

“I’m gonna go freshen up,” she said, voice softer now. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Carina gave a small nod, barely meeting her eyes.

Maya hesitated for just a second longer, then turned and walked toward the bedroom.

But carina followed her a while later and watched as Maya was, rubbing the towel over her face before stepping into the bedroom. Maya barely had time to register movement before she heard the wheels of Carina’s chair rolling over the hardwood floor.

Maya turned, surprised to see Carina there.

Carina’s expression was unreadable, but there was something heavy in her eyes. Something determined.

Maya opened her mouth to say something, but before she could

“I want to try.”

Maya froze.

Carina’s voice was soft but firm, her fingers gripping the wheels of her chair a little too tightly. Her breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling as if she had forced the words out before she could change her mind.

Maya blinked, still damp from the shower, her heart suddenly pounding. “What?”

Carina swallowed, her jaw tense, but she didn’t back down. “I want to try Intimacy.

Maya felt the air shift between them, the weight of the statement settling in the room like something tangible.

She didn’t know what to say. She just stood there, still holding the towel, her mind struggling to catch up.

Carina waited, searching her face for a reaction.

But Maya was completely, utterly shocked.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Maya stepped into the station, but her mind was nowhere near work.

She had barely slept, her body exhausted but her thoughts relentless, looping through the night before the way Carina had looked at her after she walked away, the quiet disappointment in her eyes.

I want to try… with you.

Maya had shut it down. Had ignored it. And now, she was here, pretending like she hadn’t left her wife sitting in that tension.

She should have stayed. Should have talked. Should have done something instead of escaping into work. But it was too late for that now.

The shift started like any other briefings, gear checks, mindless conversations with her team but she felt off. Like she was half-present, her body going through the motions while her mind refused to focus. And then, the alarm sounded.

“Four-alarm fire, multiple structures involved. “The energy in the station shifted instantly, the air charged with urgency.

Maya’s heartbeat kicked up as she grabbed her gear, the weight of her turnout coat grounding her, forcing her into the moment. This she could handle. This she knew how to do. Within minutes, they were in the trucks, sirens wailing as they sped toward the scene.

Thick black smoke billowed into the sky, visible from blocks away. By the time they arrived, the fire had already jumped from one building to another, swallowing structures in bright, raging flames.

Maya stepped out of the truck, the heat hitting her instantly.

“Bishop, take your team to the east side!” Herrera’s voice cut through the chaos, snapping her into action. “Copy that!” Maya turned to her crew. “Let’s move!”

They rushed toward the blaze, falling into formation, their training kicking in. Maya led the charge, axe in hand, calling out commands as they started their attack.

But even as she fought the fire, part of her mind wasn’t here.She could still hear Carina’s voice. Could still feel the weight of the conversation she had ignored.

Why are you saying no?

A burst of flames exploded from a second-story window, sending shards of glass flying. Maya flinched, forcing herself to focus.

This was what she knew. Fire, chaos, orders this, she could control.

What started as a four-alarm fire had escalated into something even more dangerous flames consuming entire structures, smoke thick enough to choke out the sky. The radio was a mess of overlapping voices, orders being shouted, teams scrambling to get control.

Bishop, we need captains in the field help us out!.

Andy’s voice crackled through the radio, sharp and urgent.

Maya barely had time to respond before another voice cut through.

Mayday! Firefighter down inside! We need a rescue team now!

Everything inside Maya snapped into focus. Her first instinct her only instinct was to go in.

Her feet were already moving, her mind screaming Go, go, go! She had done this a hundred times before, had thrown herself into fire without hesitation, had risked everything because that was who she was

But then,Carina.The kids. It hit her like a physical blow, stopping her in her tracks. She couldn’t get hurt. Not now. Not ever. And if something happened to her… then what? And in that split second, time ran out.

“MAYA!”

Voices Andy, Theo, of them calling her name. The radio screaming. The fire roaring.

Maya’s heart pounded, her body torn between instinct and responsibility, between who she was and who she had to be now

And she had to decide. Right Now.

Maya stood frozen, the roar of the fire drowning out everything but the pounding of her own heartbeat. The voices in her radio were loud too loud but she could barely process them.

“BISHOP! “Andy’s voice snapped through the radio, sharp and cutting. Get your ass in line right now! “Maya flinched, her grip tightening around the straps of her gear.

Andy wasn’t just Andy anymore she was Chief Herrera. And right now, she wasn’t giving Maya a choice.

Andy stormed toward her, eyes blazing. “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re standing here while one of our own might be dying in there?”

But this wasn’t just about a fire.

It was about Carina asking for something she hadn’t been able to give. About the way she had walked away from that conversation. About how, for the first time, running into danger wasn’t the easiest choice.

Andy exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “Maya, I need you to move

Maya clenched her jaw, her mind still racing. Then, finally her body took over. She nodded, her voice rough when she finally spoke. “I’m going in.”

Andy’s gaze stayed on her for a second longer, searching, before she gave a tight nod. “Then go.”

The second Maya stepped into the burning building, the heat wrapped around her like a second skin. Smoke curled through the air, thick and suffocating, the flames crackling in her ears. Her training kicked in, instincts guiding her through the chaos as she searched for the downed firefighter.

But even as she moved, even as she called out, her mind wasn’t fully here.

It was on them Liam. Andrea. Carina.

The thought made her stomach twist, her grip tightening on her radio as she pushed forward.

Then, movement a figure slumped against the floor, barely conscious. “Got him!” Maya shouted into the radio, rushing forward. She crouched beside the firefighter Collins, she realized and tapped his face. “Hey! Stay with me, okay?”

Collins groaned, barely able to lift his head. The heat was getting worse, the flames closing in. They needed to move.

Maya looped one of his arms over her shoulder, using all her strength to pull him up. He was heavy, his weight dragging against her, but she had to get him out.

Step by step, she pushed forward, her breath coming in short, controlled bursts.

Then, A loud crack

Before she could react, part of the ceiling collapsed

A burning beam came crashing down, slamming against the ground just inches from them. The force of it sent Maya stumbling, and as she twisted to shield Collins, pain shot through her leg.

She barely bit back a scream.

Her knee gave out beneath her, fire licking dangerously close as she hit the floor hard.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Collins was barely conscious, dead weight against her. The pain in her leg was sharp, searing, but she couldn’t stop

She grabbed her radio with shaky fingers. “I need assistance injured but still mobile. I’ve got Collins, but I need help getting out.”

Voices crackled back, Andy’s being the loudest.

We’ve got you. Hold on, Bishop.

Maya grit her teeth, pushing past the pain, dragging Collins with her. Move. Just keep moving.

Every step sent agony shooting through her leg, but she refused to stop.

Because she had to make it out. Because there were people waiting for her.

Because she couldn’t let this be the moment that took her away from Carina and the kids.

The smoke thickened, the heat unbearable. And just as her vision started to blur, strong hands grabbed her, voices shouting her team, finally reaching her.

Relief crashed over here.She wasn’t dying today.

But as they pulled her out of the fire, as the pain in her leg became impossible to ignore, one thought settled in her mind.

She couldn’t doing this not like this.

Maya sat on the back of an ambulance, her leg stretched out in front of her as a paramedic checked for injuries. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and now the pain was really settling in a deep, throbbing ache in her knee that made her grit her teeth.

“You’re lucky,” the paramedic muttered, wrapping an ice pack around her knee. “Could’ve been worse. “Maya already knew that.

She barely had time to process before she heard footsteps fast, angry footsteps.

Andy.

Maya didn’t look up as Andy stormed toward her, her boots crunching against the pavement.

“What the hell was that, Bishop?” Andy’s voice was sharp, cutting through the chaos still unfolding around them.

Maya inhaled slowly, pressing her lips together. “I got Collins out, didn’t I?”

Andy let out a frustrated laugh, shaking her head.

Andy exhaled, glancing down at Maya’s knee. “Get it looked at when we get back.” Then, softer but still firm, she added, “We’ll talk at the station. After everything.”

Maya swallowed, nodding once.

By the time Maya got back to the station, the pain in her leg had settled into a dull, persistent throb. Every step felt stiff, unnatural, but she forced herself to walk normally.

Or at least, as normally as she could.

Because the second she stepped inside, she heard them.

Liam and Andrea.

Their laughter echoed through the station as they ran around the bean, their voices high with excitement.

Maya’s chest tightened. Then, from the corner of her eye, she spotted her

Katherine.

Her mother stood near the entrance, arms crossed, watching as the kids played. The sight of her made Maya’s stomach twist there was always a tension between them, always something unsaid. But before she could process that, Liam turned and spotted her.

“Hi mum ”

Andrea’s head snapped up next, and then suddenly, they were both running toward her. Maya barely had time to brace herself before Andrea threw her arms around her legs, Liam grabbing onto her side.

She winced God her knee but she didn’t let them see it.Instead, she smiled, crouching slightly to hug them back. “Hi my babies ”

Andrea giggled. “You’re in your heavy uniform! “Liam grinned up at her. “Did you fight a fire?”

Maya let out a small laugh, trying desperately to ignore the pain shooting through her leg. “Something like that.”

Before they could ask more, she shifted quickly. “How was therapy?”

It worked. Because they didn’t want to talk about it.

“Mommy, can we go to Grandma’s house?” Andrea asked, practically bouncing on her toes.

Maya blinked, caught off guard. “Tonight?”

Liam nodded eagerly. “Yeah! She said we could! And we can sleep over!”

Maya glanced toward Katherine, who stood watching the conversation unfold with her usual composed expression.

“They have school tomorrow,” Maya reminded, raising an eyebrow.

Andrea, ever the negotiator, grinned. “Grandma said she can take us!”

She sighed, giving Katherine a questioning look. “You’re really up for the early morning school drop-off?”

Katherine tilted her head, giving a small smirk. Always .

Maya exhaled, looking back down at Liam and Andrea, who were pleading with their eyes. Finally, she gave in.

“Alright,” she said, shaking her head. “But you listen to Grandma, and you get up on time for school.”

Andrea squealed, throwing her arms around Maya’s waist. “Thank you, Mommy!”

Liam grinned. “You’re the best!”

Maya chuckled, pressing a kiss to both their heads before gently untangling Andrea’s arms. “Go get your stuff before I change my mind.”

The kids ran off excitedly, leaving Maya standing there, suddenly relieved.

“You must be really tired if you’re letting them out of the house on a school night,” Katherine mused.

Maya let out a humorless laugh. “You have no idea.”

Katherine’s gaze flickered down to her leg. “Actually, I think I do.”

Maya stiffened slightly but said nothing.Her drive home was miserable

Maya clenched her jaw the entire way, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. Every press of the gas and brake sent sharp, pulsing pain through her leg, but she refused to let it show.

By the time she pulled into the driveway, she was exhausted not just physically, but mentally

She exhaled sharply, gripping the door handle, giving herself one last second to push everything down before stepping inside.

The house was quiet except for the sound of voices coming from the living room. As she closed the door behind her, she spotted Ana helping Carina with something, Maya barely looked at them.

She forced her posture to walk evenly, ignoring the sharp protest in her knee.“Hey,” Carina greeted softly, looking over.

Maya gave a quick nod, not stopping. “Hey.”

Carina frowned slightly, watching her. “You’re home early. Where are the kids?”

Maya was already halfway to the bedroom, her hand tightening around the doorknob. “At my mom’s,” she said over her shoulder. “Sleepover.”

Carina’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, but before she could say anything else, Maya disappeared inside the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

She let out a shaky breath, leaning against the door for just a second.

Her leg throbbed , So she forced herself to move, to change into something comfortable, to act like everything was fine.

Maya barely had time to sit on the edge of the bed, trying to breathe through the pain in her leg, before she heard the sound of wheels against the hardwood floor.

Carina.

She closed her eyes for a brief second bracing

The door opened without hesitation, and Maya didn’t even look up before she heard Carina’s voice, firm but questioning.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

Maya exhaled sharply, forcing a neutral expression as she pulled off her hoodie. “I’m not.”

Carina scoffed. “Really? You barely looked at me when you came in. You barely spoke to me.”

Maya clenched her jaw, standing up too fast because pain shot through her knee, and she had to bite down on a wince to keep from showing it. “I’m just tired, Carina.”

Carina inhaled deeply, steadying herself. “If you don’t want to

Maya turned sharply. “she let out a sharp exhale, shaking her head. “You have to stop putting words in my mouth. You have to stop assuming the worst of me.”Have you even talked to your therapist about this?”

Carina’s eyes flickered with something defensiveness, hesitation.

Maya scoffed. “That’s what I thought.”She ran a hand over her face, forcing herself to breathe before meeting Carina’s gaze again. Her voice was quieter now, but still firm.

“Carina, just… let me rest.”Maya swallowed, shaking her head slightly. “You’re not ready.”

Carina’s breath hitched.

Maya inhaled, her voice steady but full of exhaustion. “And I’m not ready.” She exhaled slowly. “So my answer is no

The words sat heavy between them. Unmoving. Final.

Maya’s shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of the day crushing her. “Can you just… let me rest now? “I’ve had a bad day at work and I’m tired.

Carina held her gaze for a moment, something flickering behind her tired eyes hurt, frustration, understanding, maybe all of it. Then, slowly, she nodded.

Without another word, she turned her wheelchair toward the door.

Maya watched as she left, the silence in the room thick and suffocating.

And as the door clicked shut behind her, Maya finally let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Chapter Text

Carina woke up feeling off.She blinked at the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, her body sluggish as she tried to move. But then she realized. Maya wasn’t there.

She hadn’t seen Maya since last night. Hadn’t heard her leave, Her body felt heavy with that thought, her limbs weak, and she sank back against the pillows, deciding not to fight it’s she stayed in bed.

She wasn’t sure how long she drifted in and out of sleep before she heard a soft knock on the door, Then, Ana’s voice.

“Carina?”

The door creaked open slightly, and Ana peeked inside. When she saw Carina still curled up in bed, she frowned. “You okay?

She sighed, stepping forward, her voice softer but still firm. “Carina, you have therapy.”

Carina didn’t react at first. She just kept staring at the window, like she hadn’t even heard. But then, after a long pause, she finally mumbled, “Not today.”

She moved closer, kneeling beside the bed, studying Carina carefully. That’s when she noticed it the heat radiating off her skin, the way her breathing sounded just a little too shallow.

Her nursing instincts kicked in immediately.

“Carina,” Ana said, more serious now, “I think you have a fever. “she moved with quiet efficiency, adjusting the pillows behind Carina’s back, repositioning her body to ease the pressure on her spine. She did it gently, but firmly, her hands steady as she made sure Carina wasn’t lying in a way that would worsen her circulation.

Carina let out a slow, shaky breath. “You don’t have to

I do Ana cut in, her tone soft but unwavering. “You need to be positioned properly, especially when you’re sick. You know that.”

Carina swallowed, her body still heavy, her pride making her want to argue. But the truth was… Ana was right.

Ana didn’t comment on the way Carina’s fingers curled slightly in frustration. She just reached for the small pill organizer on one of the tables quickly scanning the labels before picking the right one.

Ana sighed, standing up and pressing the back of her hand to Carina’s forehead again. Too warm. She couldn’t just let it go. You need to cool down, Ana said, her voice calm but firm.

Carina groaned, turning her face into the pillow. “No.”

Ana exhaled, already expecting the resistance. “Yes.”

Carina shook her head, weak but still stubborn. “I don’t want

Not today, Carina. Ana’s voice held that no-nonsense tone, the one Carina had heard a thousand times from doctors and nurses in the hospital.

Ana didn’t wait for another argument. She moved efficiently, reaching for the hem of Carina’s T-shirt.

Carina tensed. Ana

“I’m a nurse, Carina. Let me do my job.”

Carina clenched her jaw but didn’t fight as Ana carefully lifted her shirt, guiding her arms out of it, exposing the skin beneath.

And then

Ana’s hands stilled.

Her eyes immediately went to the small, reddened areas forming along Carina’s lower back and sides. Pressure sores.

They weren’t deep, not yet. But they were there. And Carina

Carina hadn’t noticed. Because she couldn’t.

Ana’s stomach twisted. “Carina…”

Carina, who had been trying to avoid looking at her, finally turned her head. “What?”

Ana hesitated for a second, then placed a careful hand on her hip, tilting her slightly to get a better look.

Carina frowned. “What are you?

“You have sores,” Ana said, not sugarcoating it.

Carina stiffened. “What?”

Ana nodded, already shifting gears in her mind, cataloging what needed to be done. “Not too bad yet, but they will be if we don’t take care of them.”

Carina’s eyes darkened, and Ana knew exactly what was going through her head frustration, helplessness, shame

Because Carina hadn’t even felt it happening.

Her breathing changed, shallower now. “I She swallowed hard. “I didn’t know.”

Ana’s expression softened, but her hands were steady as she adjusted Carina’s position again, making sure there was no more pressure on the affected areas. “That’s why we check she said, her voice even. “That’s why you have to let people help you.”

Carina’s jaw was tight, her shoulders rigid. “I don’t She stopped herself, exhaling sharply. “I hate this.”

Ana worked in silence, moving with the kind of practiced ease that only came with years of nursing. She helped Carina through the shower, adjusting the water temperature, making sure she was steady, cleaning her gently but thoroughly.

Carina didn’t talk much.

She let Ana change her catheter, let her treat the sores with careful hands and medical precision, let her help her into clean, soft clothes a loose hoodie, warm socks, sweatpants that wouldn’t press against her skin too tightly.

By the time Ana was finished, Carina looked comfortable, felt better physically. But emotionally? That was a different story.

She had let Ana do everything without a fight today, and that alone told Ana just how drained she was.

Once Carina was settled back in bed, Ana took a step back, eyeing her critically. “Better?”

Carina exhaled, nodding slightly. “Grazie,” she murmured.

Ana nodded back, not making a big deal of it. “Try to rest. I’ll…

A sudden knock on the front door interrupted her.

Ana turned her head toward the sound, then glanced at Carina. “Expecting anyone?”

Carina frowned slightly, shaking her head.

Ana reached the door and pulled it open, her brows lifting slightly when she saw the woman standing there.

She was tall, blonde-haired, and dressed effortlessly in a fitted coat and boots, a hint of worry in her sharp brown eyes. There was something distinctly European about her the confidence, the way she carried herself.

“Hi,” the woman said smoothly, her accent unmistakably Italian. “I’m looking for Carina.”

Ana studied her for a second before stepping aside. “She’s resting, but come in.”

The woman nodded gratefully, stepping inside and glancing around as if trying to take in the space. “I’m Gabriella,” she said, turning back to Ana. “I’m a friend of Carina’s.

“She’s had a long morning,” Ana said carefully, not wanting to give away too much. “But I’m sure she’d want to see you.”

Gabriella nodded, her lips pressing together briefly before she squared her shoulders. “Then take me to her.”

Ana led the way, knocking lightly before opening the bedroom door.

Carina looked up, expecting Ana but the moment she saw who was behind her, her eyes widened slightly.

“Gabriella?”

Gabriella’s face softened, and she stepped forward. “Ciao, bella”

“Mia bella, look at you. Her voice was warm, teasing, but there was something deeper beneath it. She stepped forward without waiting for permission, sitting on the edge of the bed, reaching out to cup Carina’s face gently.

Carina swallowed hard. “Gabriella…”

Gabriella’s eyes scanned her, taking in every small detail the fatigue in her face, the slight flush from the fever, the hoodie that clearly belonged to Maya.

Then, she smirked slightly. “You look terrible

Carina let out a weak chuckle, her eyes burning slightly. “You’re so charming.”

Gabriella shrugged. “It’s a gift.”

Ana, who had been standing near the door, cleared her throat. “I’ll give you two some time.”

Gabriella barely acknowledged her, her full attention on Carina. As Ana walked out, Gabriella finally exhaled, tilting her head slightly.

“I wanted to come sooner,” she admitted, softer now. “But I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Carina swallowed. “I didn’t think you’d come at all.”

Gabriella’s face hardened slightly. “You really think I’d just stay in Italy while my best friend is going through this She shook her head. Idiota.

Carina let out another soft laugh, but it was shaky this time.

Gabriella studied her again, then glanced down at the blanket covering her legs.

And for the first time since stepping into the room, she hesitated.

Then, gently, carefully, she asked, “How bad is it?”

Carina’s throat tightened.

Because that was the real question, wasn’t it?

Gabriella wasn’t asking for medical details. She was asking how bad it felt. How bad it was inside Carina’s mind, inside her heart.

Carina blinked rapidly, looking away for a moment. “It’s… a lot.”

Gabriella nodded slowly. “Yeah. I figured.”

Then, without another word, she reached for Carina’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

Gabriella let out a soft sigh as she shrugged off her coat, tossing it onto the chair without a second thought. Without asking, without hesitating, she climbed onto the bed beside Carina, curling against her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Carina let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking her head as Gabriella settled her head against her chest. “Sei sempre la stessa,” she murmured.

Gabriella hummed, her eyes already closing. “You’re warm.”

Carina exhaled slowly, resting her hand against Gabriella’s back. It’s a fever’ its my new norm.

Gabriella lifted her head slightly, her brows furrowing. “Carina…”

Carina forced a small smile, brushing a hand through Gabriella’s dark curls. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

Gabriella studied her for a long moment, then sighed, resting her head back down. “Okay,” she murmured.

Carina let her eyes drift closed, her fingers trailing absentmindedly through Gabriella’s hair.

Between her injured knee, Andy’s inevitable lecture at the station, and the way she couldn’t shake the weight of last night’s with Carina, she just wanted to get home, see her wife, and pretens for a little whilethat everything wasn’t falling apart.

At least the kids were in a good mood.

She had picked them up from Katherine’s, grabbing snacks on the way, and now they were buzzing with excitement in the backseat, kicking their feet and talking over each other.

The second they stepped inside, Andrea and Liam bolted toward Carina’s room, their excitement barely contained.

“Mamma!” Andrea squealed, her little feet thudding against the floor. “We’re home!”

Liam, only slightly more composed, ran right behind her. “Mamma, guess what? We got snacks!”

Maya followed at a slower pace, her knee still aching from the long shift. She rolled her shoulders, letting out a slow breath. She had been preparing herself for this seeing Carina after everything But she hadn’t prepared for her

Gabriella.

The second Maya stepped into the doorway, her eyes scanned the room automatically.

And there they were.

Carina and Gabby, curled up together like they had always belonged there.

Maya’s stomach twisted, a sharp, unexpected feeling clawing at her chest.

The kids, oblivious to the tension that instantly filled the air, squealed in excitement.

“Zia Gabby! Andrea shrieked, running straight onto the bed, launching herself between them.

Gabriella let out a soft oof but smiled, hugging Andrea. Piccolina!

Liam climbed onto the bed more calmly, grinning. “We didn’t know you were here!”

Gabriella ruffled his hair. “It was a surprise visit.”

Carina, still slightly groggy from sleep, blinked at Maya. Their eyes met, and for a second just a second Maya saw it.

The hesitation. The awareness. She knew.

Knew what this looked like. Knew what Maya was feeling, But Carina didn’t pull away from Gabriella.

Maya inhaled sharply through her nose, forcing herself to relax, forcing herself to keep her voice neutral.

She crossed her arms, her eyes flickering between them.

“Nice to see everyone so comfortable she said, the words sharper than she intended.

Carina’s lips parted slightly, but before she could say anything, Andrea wiggled between them, giggling. “Mamma, we brought you snacks too! But we ate them in the car.”

Gabriella chuckled, clearly enjoying the kids’ energy. “Still thoughtful, though.”

Maya clenched her jaw, forcing herself to smile. “Yeah. Thoughtful.

Carina knew Maya knew every microexpression, every tension in her body. And right now? She knew Maya was not okay.

But Maya didn’t give her the chance to say anything.

Instead, she looked at the kids and forced a light tone. “Why don’t you guys let Mamma rest for a bit? You can tell her all about your day after dinner.”

Andrea pouted. “But…

“No buts ” Maya cut in, her voice just a little too tight.

Liam sighed, but he climbed off the bed, tugging Andrea with him.

Maya turned back to Carina and Gabby, her blue eyes unreadable now.

“You should rest,” she said flatly.

Then, without another word, she turned and walked out of the room, leaving Carina sitting there still tangled up with Gabriella still trying to figure out what the hell just happened

Maya moved with purpose, her steps sharp, controlled too controlled. She didn’t slam the door behind her, didn’t let her emotions spill over.

Instead, she went straight to the kitchen, yanking open the freezer with a little more force than necessary and grabbing an ice pack. The moment the cold hit her palm, she exhaled slowly, pressing it against her aching knee.

She needed to breathe

“I see you found the ice.”

Maya turned her head sharply, spotting Ana leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with the kind of knowing expression that Maya really wasn’t in the mood for.

“Yeah,” Maya muttered, pressing the pack harder against her knee. “Rough shift.”

Ana didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge the excuse. Instead, she let out a sigh. “Carina’s had a fever all day.”

Maya stilled. “What?”

Ana shrugged slightly, stepping further into the kitchen. “She didn’t eat much, barely drank anything,

“She didn’t tell me she was sick,” Maya said, her voice flatter than she intended.

Ana studied her for a second, then exhaled, shaking her head. “Look, I don’t know what’s happening between you and Carina, but take from me , you need to work on it.

“Ana,” Maya cut in, her voice low and warning.

Ana didn’t back down. “you’re just going to make it worse.”

She let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. “Stick to your job, Ana.”

Ana’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

Maya set the ice pack down with a thud and straightened up, fixing her with a look. “You’re here to help Carina. That’s it.

Ana stared at her for a long moment, something unreadable in her expression. Then, she nodded slowly, stepping back.

“Got it,” she said coolly.

Maya exhaled, rolling her shoulders, she needed to figure out why she had to hear about it from Ana and not from her own wife.

Chapter Text

The house was quiet, except for the occasional clatter of dishes and the happy chatter of Andrea and Liam as they sat at the kitchen table, their plates half-finished in front of them.

Gabriella moved around the kitchen like she belonged there, pouring orange juice into their cups, her dark curls still slightly messy from sleep. She had spent the night, but that wasn’t surprising not to the kids, at least. To them, Zia Gabby had always been someone who showed up in their lives like a storm, full of laughter and stories, someone who had always been close to their Mamma.

To Maya, though? To Maya, Gabriella was something else entirely.

Maya walked into the kitchen, her knee still aching, her mind already on edge. She had barely slept. The weight on her chest, and the fact that she had left Carina to rest while Gabriella had what? kept an eye on everything? It gnawed at her.

And now, this.

Gabriella smiling easily as she leaned against the counter. Andrea swinging her feet happily in her chair. Liam sipping his juice.

Completely unaware of the way Maya’s stomach tightened when she heard Gabriella’s next words.

“So,” Gabriella said casually, “who wants to go on a little adventure today?”

Andrea gasped dramatically, her entire face lighting up. “Me!”

Liam, slightly more skeptical, squinted. “What kind of adventure?”

Gabriella smirked, resting her chin on her hand. “A secret one.”

Andrea nearly fell out of her chair from excitement.

And that was when Maya spoke. “Excuse me?”

The room shifted.

Andrea and Liam kept grinning, completely missing the edge in Maya’s voice. But Gabriella?

Gabriella turned, her expression relaxed but too relaxed. Like she had been expecting this.

“Oh, good morning, capitana,” she said smoothly, tilting her head slightly. “Did you sleep well?”

Maya’s jaw clenched.

She wasn’t in the mood for Gabriella’s charm, wasn’t in the mood for the easy way she seemed to slide into her house, into her family, without hesitation.

Without permission.

“What’s this about an adventure?” Maya asked, her voice clipped, her eyes flicking toward the kids.

Gabriella lifted a shoulder. “Just something fun. I figured I’d take them out for a few hours.”

Maya knew this game. She knew how Gabriella operated. The carefree attitude, the effortless way she assumed things, the way she made it seem like she was doing everyone a favor And Maya hated it.

She crossed her arms, her expression hardening. “And did you run this by their Mamma?”

Gabriella’s smirk faltered just slightly, but she didn’t look away. “Carina is sleeping. And she needs to rest. You know that.”

The kids were still buzzing with excitement, completely oblivious to the silent tension building between the adults in the room.

Liam looked up at Maya, frowning slightly. “Mum can we go?”

Gabriella’s expression barely flickered as she turned to the kids, switching effortlessly to Italian, her voice warm, and inviting

Andiamo, piccoli! Go grab your coats and shoes fast, fast, fast! Let’s see who can do it first!” your mommy won’t say no.

Andrea squealed in delight, launching herself off her chair, giggling as she bolted out of the kitchen. Liam, ever the competitor, followed quickly behind, determined to win the race

The second their footsteps disappeared down the hall, the air in the kitchen shifted

Tension settled thick and heavy between the two women.

Gabriella exhaled, dragging a hand through her curls before turning back to Maya. Her expression was unreadable, but there was something in her eyes something sharp, deliberate .

Maya stood rigid, arms still crossed, her face unreadable but her body tense.

Gabriella’s smirk returned, slow and knowing. “You can glare at me all you want, capitana but I don’t actually care how you and Carina raise your kids.”

Maya’s jaw clenched.

Gabriella leaned in slightly, her voice just low enough to be a challenge. “I’m their aunt. And if their parents can’t make life fun then I will

Maya’s breath came sharp, Gabriella was pushing. Testing her. Her fingers curled against her arms, everything inside her before she could fire back, Gabriella moved.

She stepped past Maya, deliberate reaching toward the counter where Carina’s keys sat. Her fingers closed around them with easy confidence, like she had every right to them.

Maya’s stomach twisted, Her voice came out low, sharp. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Gabriella tossed the keys once in her palm before slipping them into her pocket.

She smiled. Not friendly. Not kind. Just knowing.

And then, just as casually as if they were discussing the weather she said

“Taking our kids on an adventure.”

And just like that

Maya was seething.Every muscle in her body was tight, every instinct screaming at her to say something, to stop this, to rip the damn keys out of Gabriella’s hand.
But then …

“Bye, Mommy!”

Andrea threw herself into Maya’s arms, squeezing tightly before pulling back, her little face beaming with excitement. Liam followed, slightly less dramatic, but still pressing a quick hug against her side.

She forced herself to bend down slightly, pressing a kiss to Andrea’s forehead, then Liam’s. “Be good, okay?”
Liam nodded eagerly. “We will!”
Andrea grinned. “Zia Gabby says we’re gonna have so much fun.”
Maya’s jaw ticked, but she didn’t let it show. She just smiled, tight-lipped, her voice even. “I’m sure.”

The second she let go, they bolted toward Gabriella, their excitement spilling over.

Gabriella caught Andrea’s hand with ease, ruffling Liam’s hair before leading them toward the door. She didn’t even glance back at Maya just walked out like she had won.

The door clicked shut behind them.

The day passed in a blur. With Maya at work and the kids came back.

Andrea was practically bouncing, her little arms struggling to hold all the gifts Gabby had clearly spoiled them with. She ran straight to Carina, placing a small stuffed panda in her lap. “Zia Gabby got me this one! And look, look she dug into a bag, pulling out a sparkly pink notebook. “This is for school! And, oh! A new water bottle!”

Carina smiled, brushing a hand over Andrea’s curls. “They’re beautiful, tesoro.”

Andrea beamed.

But Liam?

Liam didn’t even look at her.

He walked in, hands stuffed in his pockets, head slightly bowed, and without a word without even meeting her eyes he went straight upstairs.

Carina turned to Gabby. “What happened?”

Gabby, still holding Andrea’s coat in one hand, shrugged. “He just… went quiet.”

Carina’s brows furrowed. “Quiet how?”

Gabby sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “We were at the arcade, and everything was fine he was smiling, having fun, then out of nowhere, he just shut down. I asked if something was wrong, but he just shook his head. After that, nothing. He didn’t talk, didn’t want anything, didn’t even eat the ice cream I got him.”

That didn’t sound like Liam.“Maybe I should go talk to him,” Carina said, already shifting her wheelchair slightly.

Gabby blinked. “Carina

“Aiutami, per favore,” Carina insisted, her voice firm but not unkind.

Ana, who had been quiet in the background, stepped forward and took the wheelchair. Gabby hesitated for a moment before sighing and gently helping Carina shift from the chair,

Gabby whispered, “Are you sure about this?”

Carina’s grip on her friend’s arm tightened. “I need to be.”Carina knocked gently on Liam’s door before pushing it open.

She hadn’t been in here since they moved. Not because she didn’t want to, but because… well, she didn’t know if Liam wanted her to. And now, seeing him curled up on his bed, his back to her, his small shoulders trembling she felt that hesitation claw at her again.

She swallowed the thought, forcing her voice to stay soft. “Bambino…”

No answer.

Carina moved further inside, her hands gripping the wheels of her chair tighter than necessary. The room smelled like him like the mix of laundry detergent and whatever body spray he’d decided was cool that week. His books were scattered on the desk, a hoodie thrown over his chair, and his soccer ball rested in the corner, untouched.

Something about that detail made her heart squeeze.“Liam,” she tried again, her voice barely above a whisper. “Che c’è, amore? What’s wrong?”

Still, nothing.

Her fingers twitched on the armrests. She wanted to reach out, to pull him into her, to wipe away whatever had put this sadness in his eyes. But she wasn’t sure she could handle it if he pushed her away.

And then he did.“Just go away.”It wasn’t a yell, but it hurt all the same.

Carina exhaled, steadying herself. “I don’t want to go away.”

Liam turned his face deeper into his pillow.

Carina bit her lip. She couldn’t force him to talk. But she could be here.She would be here.

So, she took a breath and simply said, “I’m your mamma. Whatever it is… I can handle it.

Silence.

She shifted carefully on the bed, reaching for him, but Liam didn’t turn over. He just curled in on himself, hugging his pillow, his small voice thick with emotion.

“I just wish things were normal again,” he mumbled. “Before. Before everything.”

Carina blinked, her throat tightening. “Before what, bambino?

Liam sighed, finally rolling onto his back, but he wouldn’t look at her. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, blinking rapidly like he was trying not to cry.

“Before you got hurt. Before you and mum were…” He waved a hand vaguely. And you went out and did stuff. It used to be different. You used to be different.”
Carina felt something sharp twist inside her.

She had known of course, she had known that the accident had changed things for all of them. But hearing it from Liam, hearing how much it had affected him, felt like being split open.

“And now,” he went on, “it’s just… Mum gets upset all the time, and you don’t do stuff with me anymore. You’re just in your room, or at therapy, or tired. And I don’t like it.”

His voice cracked at the end, and Carina’s heart broke right there.

“Oh, bambino,” she breathed, reaching for him again. This time, he didn’t pull away.

She ran her fingers through his hair, stroking gently, just like she used to when he was younger, when this kind of comfort was enough to soothe any bad day.

“I know,” she whispered. “I know things feel different.”

Liam clenched his jaw, like he didn’t want to admit how much it hurt.

She cupped his cheek gently, guiding his head to rest on her lap. The moment he let go, his small body trembled, and then he was crying really crying.

Carina felt her own tears threaten, but she swallowed them back. This wasn’t about her.

“Bambino,” she whispered, stroking his curls, feeling the warmth of his face against her leg. “Mum and I love you so, so much. Nothing nothing changes that.”

Liam sniffled, gripping the fabric of her sweatpants like he was afraid she’d pull away.

“I miss you,” he mumbled against her leg. “I miss how things used to be.”

Carina’s chest ached, a dull, deep kind of pain that settled between her ribs.“I miss it too,” she admitted, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I miss a lot of things.”

Liam hiccupped. “You and Mum don’t even hug like before.”

Carina blinked, caught off guard. He was right. Things between her and Maya had been… distant. Guarded.

“We’re figuring things out,” she said honestly, fingers still tracing through his curls. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t love each other. And it definitely doesn’t mean we love you or Andrea any less.”

Liam didn’t answer right away, just curled up tighter, like he was trying to make himself small.“I just want you to be happy again,” he whispered.

Carina felt her throat close up.She wished she had the perfect answer, something that would take away all his hurt. But all she could do was hold him, grounding him with her touch, letting him feel the steady, unwavering presence of his mother.

She had spent the past hour thinking about what Liam had said, how his small body had trembled in her lap, how his words had cut through her heart. I just want you to be happy again.

She heard the front door open, the rustling of keys against wood, then footsteps Maya’s.

Carina lifted her gaze as Maya walked in, looking exhausted, her uniform slightly wrinkled, her hair tied up in a loose bun. Their eyes met, and for a moment, Carina hesitated.

Maya exhaled, dropping her bag by the door. “You need something?” she asked, her tone neutral but guarded.

Carina closed her book and set it aside. “Can we talk?”

Maya paused, as if considering whether she had the energy for this conversation. Then, with a small nod, she walked over and sat across from Carina, elbows on her knees.

Carina studied her wife’s face the tired lines around her eyes, the tension in her jaw. She wanted to reach out, to smooth them away, but there was a distance between them now, one they hadn’t figured out how to bridge.

“I spoke to Liam,” Carina said finally.

Maya’s posture stiffened. “Okay…”

Carina sighed. “He’s upset, Maya. He feels like we’re both… disappearing.”

Andrea peeked into the living room, her curls bouncing as she ran toward Maya. “Mommy!” she grinned, throwing her small arms around Maya’s waist.

Maya bent down and kissed the top of her head. “Hey, baby. Did you have fun with Zia Gabby today?”

Andrea nodded enthusiastically but then frowned. “Liam’s sad,” she said, looking up at Maya with worried eyes.

Maya exhaled and rubbed Andrea’s back. “I’ll talk to him, okay?”

Andrea nodded, trusting Maya’s words, then ran back toward Gabby, her giggles already filling the house again.

The moment was gone, but the weight of it lingered. Maya turned back to Carina, who was watching her with a mix of sadness and understanding.

“He’s hurting,” Carina said softly.

“I know,” Maya admitted. “We’ve both been so caught up in our own stuff, we didn’t see how much it was affecting them.”

Carina nodded. “So what do we do now?”

Maya leaned back against the couch, running a hand through her hair. “We need to make some decisions, Carina. And not just about the kids about us.

Carina’s throat tightened, but she forced herself to nod. “Okay.”

Maya sighed. “I don’t think we’re ready for what you asked me the other night.”

Carina lowered her gaze, swallowing the disappointment, but before she could respond, Maya continued.

“But I also don’t think avoiding each other is helping.” She hesitated before adding, “Maybe we need help.”Maya took a deep breath, like she was about to say something she wasn’t sure Carina would accept. “Couples therapy.”

Carina stared at her, her heart pounding. “You think we need therapy?”

Maya let out a humorless laugh. “Carina, look at us. We’re barely holding on. We love each other, but we don’t talk, we don’t see each other the way we used to. We find comfort in other people And now it’s affecting Liam, Andrea… everything.”

Carina closed her eyes for a moment. She knew Maya was right, but hearing it out loud made it real.

After a long silence, she opened her eyes and met Maya’s. “Okay,” she whispered.

Maya blinked, surprised. “Yeah?”

Carina nodded. “If it helps us find our way back… then yes.”

Maya exhaled, some of the tension in her shoulders easing for the first time in weeks. “Okay.”

The conversation had ended, but the silence between them remained thick. Maya sat there for a moment, staring at the floor, as if willing herself to say more. But she didn’t. Instead, she sighed, rubbed her face tiredly, and stood up.

Carina watched her, waiting hoping, maybe for something else. A kiss on the forehead, a squeeze of her hand, anything that didn’t feel like an exit. But all she got was Goodnight I’ll go check on liam.

And then Maya was gone.

Chapter Text

The house was quieter after the kids left for school. Too quiet.

Carina sat by the living room window, hands folded in her lap, watching the street outside. It was strange, the way silence could feel so heavy, pressing against her chest like a weight she couldn’t shift. The kids had left in a hurry Liam barely saying goodbye, Andrea hugging her but already focused on whatever adventure awaited her at school.

And now, it was just her and Maya.

The therapy session had been arranged to take place at home today. A practical decision no long drives, no waiting rooms, no extra strain on Carina’s body. She should have been relieved. Instead, she felt restless.

The soft sound of footsteps pulled her attention back. Maya entered the room, hair damp from a quick shower, dressed in sweatpants and an old t-shirt. Casual, but tired. Always tired.

“You okay?” Maya asked, lingering near the armrest of the couch.

Carina forced a smile. Si “Fine.”

Maya didn’t push. Maybe she was too drained to, or maybe she just knew Carina well enough to recognize when she was lying. Either way, she just nodded. “They should be here soon.”

Carina nodded.

A knock at the door broke the moment. Ana appeared first, opening it to let the therapist in a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a clipboard tucked under her arm.

"Good morning," the therapist greeted, stepping inside. She introduced herself, but Carina barely registered the name.

Dr. Rivera adjusted her glasses and smiled warmly at them. “Before we begin, I’d like to get to know you both a little better. Tell me about yourselves, your marriage.”

Maya and Carina exchanged a glance. It wasn’t the first time they had been asked this question, but it still felt strange to summarize a decade of love, struggles, and everything in between in a few sentences.

“We’ve been married for almost ten years,” Maya started, her voice steady but thoughtful. Carina’s a doctor, I’m a firefighter. Carina smiled softly. “And despite everything our careers, the distance sometimes, the losses we chose each other. Again and again.”

The Dr. Rivera nodded And your children?

Maya’s expression shifted, her eyes warming. “Liam was adopted when he was just months old but his been with us since he was born .
Carina added, “we used Mayas eggs to have Andrea. I carried her.” There was a quiet pride in her voice. “She’s 8 now fearless, full of life. She’s a little version of Maya in so many ways.”

Dr. Rivera smiled. “They sound wonderful.”

“They are,” Maya agreed. “But things haven’t been easy.”

Carina took a breath, glancing down at her hands before looking back up. “ there was an accident at work . A severe spinal cord injury. I’m paralyzed from the waist down.” The words came out steady, but there was weight behind them.

Maya’s jaw tightened slightly. “And we’re here because… because it changed everything. Our marriage, our family. We’re trying to figure out how to move forward, how to make sure we don’t lose each other in the process.”

Dr. Rivera nodded, taking a moment before speaking. “That’s a lot to carry. But you’re here. And that means something. “she sat back slightly, observing them both with quiet curiosity. “So, where exactly do you think the problem lies?”

Maya glanced at Carina first, then back at the therapist, exhaling sharply. “Where doesn’t it?” she muttered, running a hand through her hair.

Carina shot her a look, not of anger, but of quiet exhaustion. “We… we haven’t been on the same page,” she admitted. “Not for a while.”

The therapist nodded. “Can you be more specific?”

Maya sighed, shifting in her seat. “It’s everything. The accident changed everything. Our routine, our intimacy, our roles in the house. I feel like I’m constantly running, doing everything, making sure the kids are okay, making sure Carina is okay, and somewhere in between, I forgot how to just… be with her.”

Carina’s voice was softer, more measured. “And I feel like I lost myself. Like I lost my place in this family. I know Maya does everything, and I know she’s tired, but sometimes it feels like she’s treating me like… like another responsibility. And I hate that.”

Maya’s head snapped up. “That’s not fair.

Carina held up a hand. “I know you don’t mean to, but that’s how it feels. And I miss us, Maya. I miss feeling like your wife.”

The Dr. Rivera leaned forward slightly. Let me ask you something when was the last time you truly talked? Not about schedules, not about logistics, but about how you feel?

Maya looked at Carina. Carina looked at Maya.

The silence was telling.

Dr. Rivera folded her hands in her lap, eyes moving between them. “Why do you think you’re struggling to communicate with each other?” she asked, her voice even.

Maya scoffed, shaking her head. “I don’t know. Maybe because every time I make a decision, it’s the wrong one.” Her voice was edged with frustration,. “If I ask Carina what she wants, she won’t say. And if I make the decision myself, she gets upset. I can’t win.”

Carina’s fingers twisted together in her lap, but she didn’t interrupt. The room was quiet for a long moment.

Maya let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head as she leaned back against the couch. “You wanted us to be intimate, and I said no. Next thing I know, your friend shows up and takes over the house.” Her tone was sharp, but it, there was something else something raw.

Carina’s brows pulled together. “Gabby didn’t take over the house.”

Maya scoffed, folding her arms. She waltzed in, made herself comfortable, took the kids out without asking me first, and suddenly, she’s your person. Meanwhile, I’m just… what? The bad guy who doesn’t want to sleep with you?”

Carina exhaled slowly, trying to keep her voice steady. “That’s not fair.”

“No?” Maya shot back, eyes flashing. “Because it sure feels like it. I say no, and now I’m the one you’re avoiding, while Gabby gets to be the fun one.”

Carina sighed, rubbing her temples. I didn’t invite her to replace you, Maya. She’s my friend. She saw that I needed help, that I was struggling there things you just need from friends.

“And I don’t?” Maya interrupted, her voice rising. “I have been killing myself trying to keep everything together. I pick up the kids, I do the grocery shopping, I take care of you, and now I have to watch someone else step in like I haven’t been doing enough?”

Carina’s heart ached at the words, at the sheer exhaustion in Maya’s voice. “I never said you weren’t doing enough,” she whispered.

Maya let out a breath, shaking her head. “Then why does it feel like it?”

Carina lowered her gaze, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just wanted us to feel connected again. But now… now I just feel like a burden.”

Maya’s chest tightened at the words, at the quiet pain laced in Carina’s voice. She hated this hated that Carina felt this way, hated that she didn’t know how to fix it.

“You’re not a burden,” Maya said, but even as the words left her mouth, she knew they weren’t enough.

Carina let out a humorless chuckle. “Aren’t I? I can’t do half the things I used to. I can’t be the wife you need. I can’t be the mother I want to be. And every thing you just said makes things worse.”

Maya ran a hand through her hair, frustration and guilt tangling together. “Carina, I never wanted you to feel that way.”

“But I do,” Carina said, her voice breaking. “And when I try to reach for you, you push me away. And I get it, I do. But Maya… it hurts.”

Maya swallowed hard, looking at the woman she loved, the woman she had fought for, and realizing just how deep the cracks between them had grown. She didn’t know how to fix this, how to make Carina feel loved and wanted without pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

“I’m scared,” Maya admitted, the words raw and unfiltered. “I’m scared of losing you. I’m scared of messing this up more than I already have. I’m scared that if we try and it goes wrong, it’ll break us completely.”

The therapist, observed them both with a calm but discerning gaze. She let the silence stretch for a moment, allowing the weight of their words to settle before she spoke.

“This fear you both have it’s understandable,” she said gently. “You’ve been through something traumatic, and trauma doesn’t just affect the person who experienced it physically it affects relationships, marriages, families. But avoiding each other, avoiding the conversations that make you uncomfortable, is only creating more distance.”

Maya let out a breath, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, while Carina wiped at her eyes, her expression weary.

Dr. Rivera turned to Maya first. “Maya, I hear you saying you’re scared of losing Carina, that if you try and it doesn’t go well, you might break completely. But let me ask you this what do you think is happening right now?”

Maya’s jaw clenched. She knew what the therapist was getting at, and she hated it because it was true. “We’re already breaking.”

Dr. Rivera nodded. “Yes. And avoiding intimacy emotional and physical isn’t keeping you safe. It’s keeping you apart.”

Carina swallowed hard. “I don’t want to pressure Maya,” she said softly. “I just wanted to feel close to her again. It’s not just about sex, it’s about… us. And lately, it feels like I don’t know how to reach her.”

Dr. Rivera turned back to Maya. “Do you feel like Carina reaching for you is a burden?”

Maya’s head snapped up. “No! No, I just… I don’t know how to meet her there when everything still feels so… heavy.”

Dr. Rivera nodded again, thoughtful. you both need to find new ways to connect, ways that don’t feel so overwhelming.” She turned to Carina. “Carina, if we set aside the idea of intimacy for a moment, what are some other ways Maya makes you feel loved?”

Carina hesitated, then looked at Maya, really looked at her. “She takes care of the kids, the house. She makes sure I have everything I need, even if she’s exhausted. And when I have bad nights, she still holds my hand until I fall asleep.”

Maya blinked, as if she hadn’t realized Carina noticed those things.

Dr. Rivera smiled gently. “And Maya, what are some ways Carina makes you feel loved?”

Maya hesitated, her fingers twitching against her arm. “Even when she’s struggling, she still worries about me. About the kids. She tries, even when it’s hard. And when she looks at me like that, like I’m still hers, I She broke off, shaking her head.

Carina’s lip trembled, her fingers flexing as if she wanted to reach for Maya but wasn’t sure if she should.

Dr. Rivera leaned forward slightly. “Do you see what’s happening here? You both love each other. But you’re stuck in fear. Maya, you’re afraid of failing. Carina, you’re afraid of being a burden. But neither of you wants to walk away from this. That tells me there’s still something worth fighting for.”

She looked between them. But my question is .. “Are you both willing to try?”

Chapter Text

Carina watched her family play by the window, her fingers resting lightly against the cool glass. Outside, Maya chased Liam across the yard, her movements effortless, her laughter carrying through the late afternoon air. Andrea, perched on goal, waved her little arms dramatically, determined to block every shot.

Maya’s tank top clung to her, sweat-darkened in places, showing off the toned muscles that once felt so familiar under Carina’s hands. She moved like she always had strong, quick, full of energy. Usually, Carina would find the image both adorable and devastatingly attractive.

Today, it just made her feel tired.

She spent so much time comparing the before and after. Before, she would have been out there with them, chasing after the ball, pulling Maya into an impromptu kiss just to make Liam groan and Andrea giggle. Before, Maya would have turned to her, flashing that cocky grin, as if to say watch this, before showing off for her. Before, Carina’s body had been her own strong, capable, independent.

Now, she was on the sidelines.

It wasn’t just about the soccer game. It was about everything. How Maya came home exhausted and still somehow found the energy to run around with the kids. How Carina spent more time in bed than she ever had in her life, dependent on others for things she used to do without thinking. How Maya never looked at her the way she looked at the game, with unguarded joy.

Carina exhaled, pressing her forehead against the windowpane.

Outside, Maya scooped up Andrea and spun her around, making the little girl shriek with laughter. Liam took the opportunity to sneak a goal past them, throwing his arms in the air triumphantly. Maya groaned in exaggerated defeat before pulling him into a playful headlock, rubbing his hair until he squirmed away.

They looked like a family. Her family. And yet, standing here, Carina felt more like an observer than a part of it.

A tear slipped down her cheek, surprising her. She wasn’t even sure if it was sadness or just frustration.

She turned away from the window.

She wanted to go outside, to be part of it. But what would she even do? Sit on the porch and watch? Would that be enough?

She hated how quickly her mind spiraled, how easily she let herself believe she didn’t belong in her own life anymore.

A few minutes later, the back door swung open. Maya’s voice, still breathless from playing, filled the kitchen.

“You should’ve seen that goal Liam scored,” she said, wiping sweat off her forehead. “You’d have been so proud.”

Carina turned, forcing a smile. “I saw,” she said softly. “It was amazing.”

Andrea walked up to her, clutching a bottle of water in her tiny hands.“Mamma, can you open this?” Andrea asked, holding it out with expectation.

Carina blinked at the bottle, at the way her daughter had come to her instinctively, like she always had before. Before she could say anything, Liam came up behind Andrea, holding out his own bottle. “Me too, please,” he said absentmindedly, still distracted by the game outside.

She took Andrea’s bottle first, wrapping both hands around it. It took effort her fingers were slow to respond, and her grip wasn’t as strong as it used to be but after a few seconds, the cap finally twisted off with a soft pop.

Andrea beamed. “Grazie, Mamma!” she chirped before running off.

Liam handed over his bottle without comment, watching as she struggled a little more this time. He wasn’t impatient, just…observing. When the cap finally loosened, he took it back with a nod and a quiet, “Thanks.”

Carina let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Maya watched her carefully, the way she always did now, like she was waiting for Carina to break, to ask for help, to admit that all of this was too much.

Instead, Carina straightened as much as she could in her wheelchair and said, “My therapist will be here soon. We have a session.”

Maya nodded, wiping the back of her neck with a dish towel. “Okay,” she said simply.

Carina was maneuvering her wheelchair toward the office when Liam appeared beside her, his face buried in his game console.

“Mamma, can I have your phone?” he asked, barely looking up.

Carina blinked. It was such a normal request, something so small, and yet every time her kids asked for something simple, it reminded her how different things were now. Before, she would have just pulled it from her pocket without thinking. Now, she had to stop, position herself properly, and fight against the awkwardness of retrieving it from the small pouch on her lap.

Still, she forced a smile. “Si, but make sure you charge it after,” she said, holding it out to him.

Liam grabbed it quickly. “Okay,” he mumbled, already unlocking it as he walked off.

Carina watched him go, a pang of something sharp hitting her chest. It wasn’t Liam’s fault. He didn’t see the way she struggled with things now. He didn’t notice how hard it was just to hand over a phone. He was just a kid. But to her, every little task felt like another reminder of what she’d lost.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she continued into the office, where her therapist was already waiting.

“Carina,” the woman greeted warmly, standing as she entered. “How are you today?”

Carina exhaled as she settled into position, folding her hands in her lap. The therapist sat across from her, waiting. Not pushing, just present.

“The couples therapy…” Carina started, hesitating for a moment. “It’s making me realize some things.”

The therapist tilted her head slightly. “Such as?”

Carina glanced at the window, watching Maya and the kids outside. Andrea was climbing onto Maya’s back, giggling, while Liam was trying to score a goal. It was a beautiful scene one that used to include her. But now, she watched from the sidelines.

“I need to be more independent,” she said finally. “I need to do things differently. I used to… I used to do so much, you know? And now, I feel like everything is done for me.”

The therapist nodded, letting her continue.

“I know Maya doesn’t mind taking care of me, but…” Carina paused, pressing her lips together. “I mind. I mind that I don’t contribute the same way anymore. I mind that I can’t even open a bottle of water for my daughter without needing help.”

Her voice wavered, but she didn’t let herself stop. “I want to help around the house. I want to do things for myself. I don’t want to just sit in my chair and watch while Maya runs everything. That’s not who I am.”

The therapist leaned forward slightly. “And what’s stopping you?”

Carina blinked, caught off guard by the simplicity of the question.

“I… I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe I’m scared. Scared I’ll try and fail. Scared that if I can’t do something, it will just prove that I really am a burden.”

The therapist let that sit for a moment before responding. “Carina, being independent doesn’t mean doing everything alone. It means learning new ways to be involved. Maybe you won’t do things exactly the way you used to, but that doesn’t mean you can’t contribute. And it certainly doesn’t mean you’re a burden.”

She glanced toward the kitchen, where just this morning, Ana had been explaining different ways she could adapt to cooking again. “I want to start cooking,” she said finally. “Ana is going to show me how to do it differently. I know I’ll need help, but…” She exhaled, almost embarrassed. “I miss it.”

Dr. Ellis nodded, writing something down. “That’s a great step.”

Carina looked down at her hands. “My left side feels weaker than before. I don’t know if that’s normal, or if I should be worried. But I still want to try.”

Dr. Ellis leaned forward slightly. “You’re allowed to want that. And you’re allowed to be frustrated about what your body can and can’t do right now.”

Carina swallowed hard. “I just I hate needing so much help. I hate that even cooking isn’t something I can do alone anymore.”

Dr. Ellis studied her. “Does asking for help make you feel like less of yourself?”

Carina blinked at the question. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Dr. Ellis nodded thoughtfully. “It makes sense. You’ve been independent your whole life. You built a career, a family, routines you were in control of. And now, you don’t have that same control.”

Carina’s throat tightened. “No, I don’t.”

Dr. Ellis gave her a gentle look. “That’s grief, Carina. You’re grieving the version of yourself you used to be.”

Carina hesitated, her fingers gripping the armrest of her wheelchair. The thought had been circling her mind for days, pressing against her ribs like a weight she couldn’t shake. She looked up at Dr. Ellis, uncertainty flickering across her face.

“Am I selfish,” she asked quietly, “for wanting space to figure out who I am now?”

Dr. Ellis didn’t answer right away. Instead, she observed Carina carefully, letting the silence settle between them. “Tell me what ‘space’ means to you.”

Carina swallowed. “I don’t know exactly. Just… time where I don’t feel like I’m being watched. Judged. Where I don’t have to be strong for the kids, for Maya.” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “I love them. I do.

“Do you think needing space to heal makes you a burden?” Dr. Ellis asked gently.

Carina looked away, unable to answer.

Dr. Ellis leaned forward slightly. “Carina, there’s a difference between needing space to heal and abandoning the people who love you. Wanting to reconnect with yourself is not selfish. In fact, it might be the best thing you can do for them.”

Carina frowned. “How?”

“Because when you’re constantly pushing your needs aside for everyone else, resentment builds,” Dr. Ellis explained. “You might not say it, but you feel it. And that tension finds its way into your relationships. But if you allow yourself time real time to rediscover who you are now, you come back to them as a fuller version of yourself, instead of a woman just barely holding it together.”

Carina exhaled, letting those words sink in. “I just don’t want to hurt Maya.”

Dr. Ellis gave her a knowing look. “Maya’s already hurting, Carina. So are you. Pretending you don’t need something doesn’t make it disappear it just turns into something unspoken and heavy between you.”

Carina swallowed past the lump in her throat. She wanted to believe that. That it was okay to ask for space. That it didn’t make her selfish. That Maya wouldn’t see it as another thing she had to carry alone.

Carina had spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, her thoughts tangled in everything Dr. Ellis had said. Was it truly okay to need space? Would Maya understand? Would she even listen?

She barely noticed the small figure standing beside her bed until a gentle tug on her sleeve pulled her back to the present.

Mamma?

Andrea stood there, a hairbrush clutched in her tiny hands, her curls already beginning to frizz from the day’s play. Her big, curious eyes searched Carina’s face.

Carina sat up as much as she could, offering a tired but warm smile. Bambina do you need me to comb your hair?”

Andrea nodded, climbing up onto the bed and settling herself besides Carina’s legs like she always had before, before everything changed. She handed over the brush, and Carina took it, running her fingers gently through the wild strands before working the brush through.

Andrea was quiet at first, leaning into the soothing rhythm of Carina’s touch. Then, her little voice broke the silence.

“Mamma…” she began hesitantly, her eyes wandering down to Carina’s legs. “How does this work?”

Carina’s hand stilled for a second before she forced herself to keep brushing. “How does what bambina?

Andrea didn’t look away from her legs. “Your legs. Do they… do they still feel things?”

Carina swallowed. She had known this question would come eventually, but she wasn’t sure she was ready for it. “No, I don’t feel anything below my waist.”

Andrea frowned. “Not even if I do this?” She reached out and pressed a small hand against Carina’s thigh.

Carina shook her head gently. “No, baby. I can’t feel that.”

Andrea’s face scrunched in thought. “But you used to, right?”

“Yes,” Carina said softly. “I used to.”

Andrea’s little fingers trailed absentmindedly over Carina’s pajama pants. That’s why you’re always sad?”

Carina felt her throat tighten. Out of the mouths of children came the simplest, most devastating questions. She could lie, tell Andrea that she was fine. But she wasn’t. And she had promised herself she wouldn’t hide the truth from her children.

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “Sometimes, I miss the things I used to do. I miss running, dancing, picking you up.” She took a slow breath. “But I can still do other things. Like comb your hair. And cuddle with you. And love you.”

Andrea turned around in Carina’s lap, looking up at her with big, serious eyes. “I still love you too.”

Carina felt the sting of tears, but she held them back as she cupped Andrea’s small face. “That means everything to me, bambina.”

Andrea climbed up higher, wrapping her arms around Carina’s neck in a tight hug. Carina held her as best as she could, pressing a kiss into her curls.

Maya stepped into the dimly lit bedroom, Carina’s phone in her hand. She spotted Andrea curled up against Carina, her tiny arms still loosely wrapped around her mamma’s waist.

“Time for bed, piccolina Deluca -Bishop Maya said gently, kneeling by the bed. Andrea giggled but didn’t resist as Maya lifted her with ease and put her down.

Maya must have noticed something in Carina’s expression because she hesitated before standing up straight. “I brought your phone,” she said, placing it on the nightstand.

Carina nodded, her fingers playing with the edge of the blanket. “Can we talk when you get back?”

Maya’s expression flickered, something unreadable crossing her face before she gave a small nod. “Yeah. I’ll be right back.”

When Maya returned, she looked exhausted. Not just from the day, but from everything. From them. She ran a hand through her hair as she sat down on the edge of the bed, exhaling deeply.

Carina didn’t waste time. “I’ve been thinking… about ahh hmm, About space.”

Maya’s gaze flickered, cautious. “Okay.”

Carina swallowed. “I think I need it. I need to find a way to be myself again. And that means figuring things out on my own. I don’t know exactly what that looks like yet, but…

Maya cut in, her voice even. “I get it. I do. And honestly? I need space too.”

“But to what extent, Carina?” Maya asked, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “How much space are we talking about?”

Carina opened her mouth, but no words came out. She didn’t have an answer. Not one that made sense yet.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted finally. “I just know I don’t want to feel like… I’m doing things that that I love without any pressure and rediscover myself again.

Maya sighed, leaning back slightly, pressing her hands to her face for a moment before looking at Carina again. “You’re not a burden.”

Carina gave a small, tired smile. “I know you believe that. But I need to believe it too.”

Maya was quiet for a long moment. Then, finally, she nodded. Can we talk about that during our therapy session?

Carina smiled , Thank you was all she said.

It was just one word, but it carried weight.

Chapter Text

Maya sat stiffly in her chair, arms folded, her jaw tight enough to crack. Across from her, Dr. Reynolds regarded her carefully, as if measuring every word before she spoke.

“I need to be honest with you, Maya,” the therapist said gently. “From what Carina has been saying, I believe she may want to separate for a while. Not because she doesn’t love you, but because she doesn’t know how to find herself while staying in this dynamic.”

Maya let out a short, humorless laugh. “Right. So, she just didn’t want to say it out loud.” Her fingers drummed against her arm, her breathing controlled but shallow. “She didn’t want to hurt me, so she thought she’d soften the blow by calling it ‘space.’”

Dr. Reynolds tilted her head. “I don’t think she sees it as leaving you, Maya. I think she sees it as trying to find a version of herself that can actually be here with you. Fully. And right now, she doesn’t know how to do that.”

Dr. Reynolds folded her hands in her lap, her expression calm but firm.

“Ten years is a long time,” she said. “You’ve both built a life, a home, a family. You’ve survived more than most couples ever will. That kind of history—love, pain, growth—it’s not easy to walk away from. And I’m not suggesting you do.”

She looked between them. Maya, sitting with her hands clenched between her knees, jaw rigid. Carina, more fragile, eyes down, fingers nervously twisting the sleeve of her sweater.

“But a break… if it helps you both breathe again, if it gives you space to understand yourselves better, then it’s not the worst thing. It’s not failure. It’s not giving up. It’s a reset. Sometimes, space helps bring clarity.”

Maya’s eyes flickered hurt, doubt, something unreadable. Carina still wouldn’t look up.

“But,” Dr. Reynolds added, voice softening, “you have to be careful. Sensitive. You have two children in this house who already feel the distance. Liam and Andrea have barely had their mother present, and now they might see less of her. And Maya, if you’re carrying the weight of everything, emotionally and logistically… they’ll feel that too.”

She leaned in slightly, her tone pointed. “Whatever decisions you make from here, you can’t forget: your children need both of you. They need parents who are honest but stable, present but kind. Don’t let this turn into a war.”

“But if space is something you truly want to explore define it. Set boundaries. Make a plan. And make sure, through all of it, the kids don’t become collateral.”

The clinking of cutlery had faded, after the Deluca -bishop had their dinner replaced by the soft hum of the dishwasher and the distant sound of Andrea humming to herself as she colored in the living room. Liam had already retreated to his room with a book, quiet as usual these days.

Carina and Maya were still at the table, neither of them touching what was left of their food.

It was Maya who spoke first, her voice low but steady. “We should talk.”

For a second, it felt like they were strangers sitting across from each other with ten years of life stretched between them like a thread worn thin.

“I don’t want us to fall apart,” Maya said, eyes on her plate. “But I also don’t want either of us pretending we’re okay just to keep this house quiet.”

Carina looked at her, really looked, and saw it how tired Maya was. Not just physically, but in her bones. The kind of tired that comes from carrying more than your share for too long.

“I’m not asking to leave you,” Carina said gently. “I’m asking to find myself again. I need space to feel like me not just someone everyone needs something from.”

“And what does that look like, Carina?” Maya asked, finally meeting her eyes. “What does space mean? Do I still wake up in this house with you? Do the kids still see us as ‘their parents ’? Or are we just… roommates trying to pretend we’re not breaking?”

“I don’t know yet,” Carina admitted. “But I want to figure it out before we start hurting each other in ways we can’t fix.”

Maya nodded.She looked up, jaw tight, like every word was a weight.

“I’ll move out for a while. I think you need this more than I do. Not because I don’t need space, too. But because you…” she swallowed. “You need to find out who you are again.

“I just need to ask one thing,” Maya said, her voice cracking slightly. “Let the kids stay with you.”

Carina looked stunned. “Maya… no, I—I You’re the one who’s… functioning.”

“I am,” Maya said. “And I’ll still be here every day. I’ll come in the morning. I’ll pick them up from school. I’ll do dinner, bedtime, all of it. But they need you, Carina.”

Tears welled in Carina’s eyes.

“They haven’t had you,” Maya whispered. “Hospitals, pain, the chair it all stole time from you. From them And if I take them with me, that window just gets smaller.”

Carina looked like she couldn’t breathe for a second. She gripped the table edge, nodding slowly, like something in her cracked right open.

“You’d do that? You’d… go?”

“For you. For them.” Maya smiled sadly. “You’re still their home, Carina. You just forgot.”

Silence again. Only now, it wasn’t heavy. It was raw. Honest.

The kids were sprawled on the couch Andrea writing in her notebook, Liam tapping away on his game. Carina was in her wheelchair, Maya standing beside her, arms crossed tightly against her chest. They’d practiced what to say. Didn’t make it any easier.

“Hey, ragazzi,” Carina said softly. Her voice alone made Andrea’s head shoot up.

“Can you both come sit with us for a bit?” Maya added. Her tone was careful.

Liam paused his game. Andrea slid off the couch and walked over without hesitation, curling up near Carina’s legs like she used to. Liam followed slower, sensing the mood had shifted.

“We want to talk to you about something,” Maya began.

Carina took a breath. “Mum and Mamma have been going through a lot, as you both know. Since my accident… it’s been hard. For all of us.”

Andrea blinked up at her, concerned.

“And sometimes when people love each other,” Maya added, “they still need time apart to take care of themselves. So we’re going to take a little break. I’ll be staying at our old house for now.

Silence. The kids looked from one parent to the other.

“But you’re not breaking up?” Liam asked, his voice small.

“We’re not saying goodbye,” Carina said quickly. “We’re saying… we need to find our way back. And we don’t want to hurt each other doing it.”

Maya knelt beside them now, level with Liam. “I’ll still be here all the time. For you. You can call me whenever. I’ll pick you up, drop you off, bring snacks, still yell about bedtime…”

“Then why leave?” Liam’s voice was sharp. Aimed right at Maya.

Carina reached for his hand. “Because we want to do this the right way. So we don’t end up angry or broken. And because I miss being with you both too. I’ve been gone so long. I want to try being here.”

Liam looked torn. “But we need you both. Why can’t you figure it out together?”

Maya exhaled. “Sometimes, buddy… trying too hard together just makes it worse. And we don’t want worse. We want better.”

Andrea leaned into Carina. “So we live here now? “but we just moved.

“For now, sì,” Carina said, kissing her head. “With me. And you’ll see Mamma all the time. We’re still a family.”

Liam didn’t look convinced. He got up, quietly, and walked out. Maya’s eyes followed him, pain clear in her expression.

“Wait Liam,” she said gently but firmly.

He froze.

Maya stood, hands low, not trying to control the moment just be present in it. “You and Andrea… you both matter in this too. You get to have a say.”

Andrea blinked up from Carina’s lap, eyes wide.

Carina nodded. “We’ve made our decision because we think it’s best for now. But we want to know what you feel, what you want.”

Liam turned slowly. “What we want?”

“Yes,” Maya said. “Do you want to stay here with Mamma for now? Or do you want to come with me?”

Andrea looked to Carina, then Maya, then back again. Her lip trembled. “But I want both.”

Carina reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “I know, amore. And you’ll have both. Just… not in the same house for a little while. But every morning. Every night. We’re still here.”

Maya turned to Liam. “Liam… I know this is a lot. You can think about it. You don’t have to decide now.

Liam’s jaw clenched. “I want to stay here.” His voice cracked.

Maya’s heart stung, but she nodded. “Okay.”

“I want to stay with Liam ” Andrea whispered, curling closer into Carina’s side.

Maya nodded again, this time slower. “Okay.”

She smiled, even though it hurt. “You’re both brave. Thank you for telling us.”

Liam crossed his arms. “You said it’s just for a while.”

Carina met his gaze. “We hope so, tesoro. Truly.”

He didn’t say anything else. He just went upstairs.

Andrea looked up at Maya. “You’re still picking us up for school tomorrow?”

“Of course I am,” Maya said, coming over and kissing the top of her head. “And bringing snacks. No one’s escaping that.”

Andrea smiled sleepily and nodded.

Maya didn’t look away from the staircase as her little girl left.

Then her eyes shifted to Carina.

She didn’t speak right away. Just studied her.

Carina was seated still, one hand lightly resting on the table, the other trembling slightly she tried to hide it under the fabric of her hoodie. Her lips parted, like she was going to say something first, but Maya beat her to it.

“Is this what you wanted?”

Her voice wasn’t angry. It wasn’t loud. It was low and cut with something deeper fatigue, maybe. Or heartbreak. Or that brand of disappointment you only feel when it’s someone you still love.

Chapter Text

The house buzzed quietly with the routine of early morning not rushed, not peaceful, just normal in that strange way things sometimes feel after an emotional shift.

Maya was still there, staying in the guest room for now. She hadn’t left the house, not fully. But the shift between her and Carina was noticeable. Fewer glances. Shorter conversations. Less we.

In the kitchen, Maya zipped up Andrea’s overnight bag for the school trip, checking the list again. Spare socks. Extra sweater. Hair ties. Allergy meds. Andrea was still munching on dry cereal, swinging her legs under the table in her uniform hoodie.

“You’ve got your water bottle?” Maya asked, reaching over and tucking it into the side pouch of her backpack.

Andrea nodded through a mouthful. “Yup.”

“And your teacher’s number is saved on your bracelet don’t take it off.”

“I won’t,” Andrea promised, eyes bright but a little jittery with the nerves of going away for the first time.

Maya crouched in front of her and smoothed out her daughter’s hair, gently tightening the ponytail. “You call me if anything feels weird. If you get homesick. If you need me for any reason, okay?”

Andrea nodded again,

Maya smiled, even though her heart sank a little. go say goodbye to Mamma before we leave.”

Andrea hopped off the chair and padded toward the hallway.

At the table, Liam ate his eggs in silence. He barely glanced up. Maya sat across from him, sipping her coffee, watching him chew like he was on autopilot.

“You good?” she asked casually.

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

Maya stood slowly and walked to the bedroom just in time to see Andrea launch herself into Carina’s arms, her backpack bouncing behind her. Carina, dressed in comfortable slacks and a loose sweater, bent forward from her wheelchair, kissing Andrea’s cheek and fixing the strap on her bag with one hand.

“Remember to wear your scarf when it gets windy,” Carina murmured.

“I will.”

“And listen to your teacher. No climbing fences, no chasing boys.”

Andrea giggled. Okay.

Carina smiled, brushing a curl from her daughter’s cheek. “Good. Let them chase you, tesoro.”

Andrea leaned in again, whispering something that made Carina’s smile twitch a little wider something Maya couldn’t hear but didn’t need to.

Carina kissed her again, one last time. “Have fun. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

Maya watched quietly, keys in her hand.

And then, with everything packed, they were off Andrea skipping slightly ahead, Liam trailing behind, Maya holding the door as the weight of her new, in-between life settled around her like something permanent.

After pulling into the lot, Maya parked and stepped out quickly, grabbing Andrea’s small overnight bag from the back. Andrea was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, eyes darting between her classmates and the big, shiny bus waiting by the curb.

Maya knelt beside her, hands firm on Andrea’s shoulders. “Hey listen to your teacher, okay? Keep your bracelet on, stay with the group, and don’t let anyone tell you ghost stories before bed. You know how you get.”

Andrea giggled, nodding. “I won’t! I promise.”

Maya softened, brushing her daughter’s hair behind her ear. “I love you, little bean.”

“I love you too.”

They hugged, tight and lingering. Maya kissed her temple, then stood up and walked her to the teacher.

Here is your permission slip and do i need to sign again? asked, pen already in hand.

“Yes, thank you,” the teacher replied with a warm smile. “We’ll take good care of her.”

As Andrea climbed onto the bus, Maya turned back toward the car and spotted Liam in the passenger seat, his hand pressed against the window, quietly watching his sister through the glass. Wondering why he wasn’t getting down. He gave Andrea a small wave, one she didn’t see.

Maya paused. Watched him.

Then she made a decision.

She climbed back into the car, slid on her seatbelt, and looked at him. “Wanna skip the rest of the morning?”

Liam blinked, startled. “Skip school?”

Maya shrugged, her tone light but careful. “Just for today. You and me.”

He eyed her, cautious. “Where would we go?”

Maya started the engine, glancing over at him with a tired smile.

The building was low and unassuming from the outside gray paint, wide windows, and a sign that read BREAKROOM in block letters. Maya had passed it a few times before, always telling herself she’d come smash a few plates when life got too loud.

Today wasn’t about her, though. Today was about Liam.

Inside, the space smelled like old wood and dust, mixed with faint chemical hints from paint and plastic. They stood at the counter, Maya signing the waiver while Liam stood quietly beside her, his hands in his hoodie pocket, eyes scanning the cracked vases and shattered mugs piled high behind safety glass.

The attendant handed Maya two pairs of goggles and gloves. “One crate of junk, twenty minutes, two bats. You break it, we clean it. You good?”

Maya smiled. “Perfect.”

She turned to Liam and knelt so she could see his face. “You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to explain anything. But if there’s something you need to get out…” She handed him the bat. “You can start here.”

He looked at it like it might burn him. “What am I supposed to hit?”

“Anything,” she said gently. “As long as it helps.”

Inside the breakroom, they suited up thick gloves, goggles, long sleeves. The crate in front of them was full of junk old glass bottles, ceramic figurines, busted keyboards, a stack of plates.

Maya smashed the first one, just to show him. A single plate. One swing, one clean break. It echoed through the space like something bigger than it was.

Liam flinched. Then he picked up a mug.

The first hit was tentative. The second cracked it in two. The third? That one sent glass flying and his chest heaving.

And then he kept going.

He didn’t say a word. Just broke everything he could get his hands on. His breathing got faster, more ragged. Maya stood back, watching as the kid who’d been holding everything in since the accident finally let go.

He smashed a vase and let out a short, frustrated shout half cry, half growl. His face was red. His eyes were wet.

Maya stepped in slowly. “Liam?”

He didn’t look at her. “I just want it to go back.” His voice cracked. “Before Mama got hurt.

Maya’s heart clenched. “I know, baby. I know.”

“I hate this.”

“I do too.”

He turned to her then, eyes wild and tired. “So why are you letting it happen?”

Maya didn’t have a clean answer. So she didn’t pretend. She set the bat down, sat on the bench near the wall, and let the silence stretch.

The breakroom had left them sweaty, covered in dust, and smelling faintly of ceramic and adrenaline. Maya spotted a quiet diner across the street booths, cracked leather seats, the kind of place where no one would ask too many questions. They slid into a booth by the window, both still quiet, Liam absentmindedly flipping the laminated menu back and forth.

Maya didn’t push. She let the silence be what it was while the waitress brought two lemonades and nodded with the kind of kindness that didn’t need words.

“Grilled cheese?” Maya asked gently, nodding at his menu.

Liam shrugged. “Sure.”

She ordered for them both grilled cheese and fries for him, eggs and toast for her. The moment the waitress left, Maya leaned forward on her elbows, resting her chin in her hands.

“You know you can be mad at me,” she said.

Liam glanced at her but didn’t speak.

“You wouldn’t be wrong to be,” she added, her voice steady but soft. “I changed things on you. I didn’t give you much warning. And I’m the grown-up, so that’s on me.”

Liam looked down at the table, tracing a small scratch in the wood. I’m not mad.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “It’s like… everything’s cracked now. And even when you say it’s temporary, it still feels like broken.”

Maya blinked, pain shooting straight through her chest. “Yeah,” she said, quietly. “It kind of is. But sometimes broken is how people grow back stronger. Doesn’t make it less scary though.”

Liam’s voice was quiet, guarded. “Are you and Mamma still in love?”

Maya took a breath. This was the part she didn’t want to mess up.

“I am,” she said honestly. “I love her in a way that doesn’t stop. But love doesn’t always fix everything. Not when people are hurting.”

Liam’s eyes filled, but he blinked fast and turned toward the window.

Maya nodded, accepting it. “Me too.”

He finally looked at her. “So why did you ? Then he looked away again. Then: “Are we going to be okay?”
The food arrived.

Liam didn’t say much after that, but he ate every bite. And when they walked back to the car, he slipped his hand into Maya’s without saying a word.

Maya glanced at her phone, thumb hovering over Carina’s name. She sighed, then tapped call.

It rang twice.

Pronto? Carina’s voice came through, a little breathless.

“Hey,” Maya said, keeping her tone neutral but not cold. “You home?”

“I just got back. Had my session at the center. Why?”

“I’m dropping Liam off. We had a day.” She glanced over at him. “A good one, I think.”

Carina’s voice softened slightly. “Okay. Thank you for taking care of him as always.

A quiet beat passed between them. Then Maya added, “I’ve got to head back to work after I drop him. Just wanted to make sure you were home before I left him.”

“Yes, I’m here,” Carina replied.

Maya hung up. She turned to Liam, who was staring at the familiar front door like it was still a stranger.

“Hey,” she said. “I’ll be back later tonight. You okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

“You can tell Mamma what you want. Or not. It’s up to you, alright?”

He nodded again, quieter this time. “I know.”

Maya reached over, brushed his hair back. “You did good today, Liam.”

He didn’t answer, but when he stepped out of the car, he gave her a small wave before walking up to the front door.

Maya waited until she saw Carina open the door, Liam stepping past her, Carina’s hand gently brushing his shoulder as he walked in.

Then she pulled away, turned the wheel, and drove back toward Station 19. Back to the shift. Back to the chaos.

The house had gone quiet again, the way it always did in the in-between hours.

Liam came out of the bathroom, towel hanging over his shoulder, his damp curls clinging to his forehead. His footsteps were soft against the floor, but Carina could hear the faint shuffle of them through the open door.

She was sitting upright in her wheelchair near the window, a throw blanket draped over her legs, reading a book, She looked up as Liam stepped into the room, his expression unreadable.

“Hey Bambino! she said softly. “You feeling better?”

He nodded, rubbing at his neck. “Yeah. Shower helped.”

Carina smiled faintly. “They usually do.”

Liam stood there for a second, shifting his weight like he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say or if he should say it at all. Then he looked up at her, eyes more open than they had been in weeks.

“I don’t think Mamma should move out.”

Carina blinked. “What?”

“I know you said it was just for a while, and I know you’re both tired and trying to figure stuff out, but…” He took a breath. “It doesn’t feel right.”

She motioned gently for him to sit, and he did at the edge of her bed, towel still clutched in his hands.

“I’m not angry anymore,” he said. “Not at you. Not at her. I just… I don’t want to go to sleep in this house and know she’s not here.

“I’m scared that if she goes,” Liam continued, his voice barely above a whisper, “she won’t come back. Not really.”

Liam hadn’t moved from her side. His damp curls were pressed lightly against Carina’s arm, his voice quiet now, but full of something deeper hope, maybe. Or fear masked as maturity.

He looked up at her again, eyes glassy. “Per favore, Mamma…” His voice cracked. “Non farla andare via.”

Carina blinked, taken off guard not just by the Italian, but the weight in it. She hadn’t heard him use Italian like that in months. Not with that softness. Not with that ache.

“I’ll be good,” he added quickly, the words tumbling out of him. “I’ll do better. I won’t fight with Andrea. I’ll do my homework. I’ll be quiet when you need rest. I'll remember to charge your phone when o m use it, I won’t touch it even, I just… I just want us to be together.”

Carina felt something twist deep in her chest, painful and tender all at once. She reached up and touched his cheek, her fingers shaky. “Amore mio, this isn’t about you being good or not. You are already good. You are the best boy I could ever ask for.”

“But if I’m better… maybe she’ll stay,” he whispered, tears welling in his lashes.

“No,” Carina said firmly, her voice wobbling.Carina cupped his cheek. I hear you. Lo sento nel cuore. I promise.

Carina held him, her eyes burning. “Okay,” she whispered against his hair. “We’ll try. We’ll stay close. I promise.”

Maya had just finished her shift and let herself into the house quietly, the familiar scent of home-cooked food lingering in the air. Not strong, but there subtle, warm, like something was simmering low on the stove.

She slipped off her boots at the door and padded toward the kitchen, rolling her sore shoulder as she went.

But when she turned the corner

She paused.
Carina was at the counter, in her wheelchair, one hand on the edge of her chair for balance. Liam stood beside her, slightly too tall for the way he was leaning over, helping her stir something in a small pot. Pasta sauce, maybe. Something simple.

Carina glanced up first, surprised but soft-eyed.

Liam didn’t look at her right away. He kept stirring. But Maya noticed how his posture straightened. How his shoulders sat a little taller how he almost looked like he belonged in that moment.

Maya stepped in slowly, letting the warmth of the room and the surprise settle together in her chest. “Hey,” she said carefully. and moved closer. “Smells nice.”

Liam shrugged, but there was the smallest flicker of pride in his eyes. “We didn’t burn anything.”

Carina laughed gently. “He wouldn’t let me.”

Maya leaned against the counter, watching them. There was something in the air not fixed, not perfect, but… lighter.

“You two make a good team,” she said.

This time, Liam looked right at her, then nodded. Just once.

Maya smiled.

After dinner , the house was finally quiet. Dishes washed. Liam tucked in.

Carina had wheeled herself into her room alone, her legs covered by a soft knit blanket, hair down for the night, face washed bare. Maya stood at the door, leaning against the frame like she wasn’t sure if she should come in.

“Do you want company?” she asked softly.

Carina looked up. “Yes.”

Maya walked in slowly, dragging the chair from the corner closer, sitting directly across from her.

“You looked good in there,” Maya said. “With Liam. It felt… right.”

Carina nodded, her hands fidgeting with the hem of the blanket. “He’s the one who made it happen.”

Maya tilted her head slightly.

Carina exhaled. “He asked me not to let you leave. Begged me, actually. And he thought maybe if he was good enough, this wouldn’t have to happen. I told him I’d talk to you,”

Carina sipped from her mug, looking at Maya with calm eyes. “So… we stay. But we do it with space. Not as a pause. As a choice. A different kind of rhythm.”

Maya leaned forward slightly. “Different rooms. Separate routines. Shared parenting, shared dinners, shared responsibilities.

“I’ll take the outer room,” she said. “It’s farther from the kitchen, less noise. Plus, if I need to pace at 2 a.m., I won’t wake anyone up.”

Carina, parked in her wheelchair just in front of her, raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “So considerate.”

“I try.” Maya nudged the door open with her foot. “Unless you’ve suddenly decided you want this one.”

“No,” Carina replied quickly. “That one’s all yours.

They stared at each other for a second, the kind of silence that felt full more comfortable now, less heavy.

Then Maya held out her hand, half-joking. “So this is the agreement? Two rooms. One house. Temporary truce.”

Carina took it. But instead of just shaking, she held on a little longer than expected, her fingers curling gently around Maya’s.

“I need time,” she said softly. “Not forever. Just… enough to let things breathe. Enough to heal.”

Maya’s face shifted tender, tired, but open. “Okay.”

“I’m not letting go,” Carina added, eyes serious. “I just need to find the version of me that can stay. That wants to stay as the woman I still am, not the one I’m scared I lost.”

Maya didn’t pull her hand away. “I’ll be here when you’re ready. But I’m not waiting in silence. We’re still us even if it looks different right now.”

Carina gave a faint smile. “Even if I win the décor contest?”

Maya smirked. That would just prove you’re still you. Thank you for considering the kids.

They let go, eventually, and Maya stepped out..

Chapter Text

Maya moved into the outer room at the back of the house on a quiet Saturday morning. No big moment. No bags dramatically tossed. Just her folding clothes, stacking her uniform neatly into drawers that had never held her things before. The room smelled faintly of dust and old wood. It had once been a guest room. Now it was hers.

They had agreed. One house. Separate space. For the kids. For the calm. For survival.

Every morning, Maya woke before the rest of the house. She moved through the kitchen like a ghost quiet, efficient. She made breakfast the way the kids liked it: toast with butter for Liam, oatmeal with bananas for Andrea. No matter how tired she was, she made sure they started the day fed and hugged.

Carina would still be in bed when she left with them, her door closed, the house hushed.

After school, Maya picked them up. She asked about their day, listened when Andrea showed her glitter-covered art, nodded through Liam’s quiet summaries. She brought them home, dropped their bags by the stairs and then she slipped away.

Always before dinner.

She hadn’t eaten with Carina since the night they told the kids. She didn’t sit across from her anymore, didn’t reach for the salt mid-conversation, didn’t watch Carina pass bread to Andrea with that crooked smile of hers.

Instead, Maya went back to the room. The room that was hers now.

Sometimes she read. Sometimes she laid there doing nothing. Sometimes she stared at the ceiling and tried to remember what it felt like to just be in her home without all this space between them.

She could hear them at night.

Andrea’s laughter. Liam’s footsteps. The faint rhythm of Carina’s wheels on the wood floor. And every time every single time she wanted to walk back in. Sit at the table. Be their family.

But something inside her still ached.

She was trying to respect the space Carina asked for, but that didn’t mean it didn’t feel like rejection. Like being pushed out of her own life in the most polite, agreed-upon way.

Maya showed up. For the kids. For the structure. So she stayed in the room. She didn’t know most of carina schedule, like that fact that carina had check up the next day.

When the next day came carina was ready and she sat by the door, bundled in her hoodie and a soft scarf Andrea had picked out for her. Her wheelchair sat steady, her bag clipped to the back, neatly packed with her paperwork, medications, and a water bottle. Today wasn’t about anything dramatic just a check-up. A catheter change, some bloodwork, an update with her neurologist. Routine. On paper.

Well… not entirely alone.

“Are you ready, bambini?” she called, adjusting her gloves as she wheeled slightly toward the hallway.

Andrea was already zipping up her coat. “can I go to pediatric to play ?” she asked, holding her drawing pad like it was her emotional support animal.

“I don’t think so,” Liam replied flatly, pulling his hoodie on, eyes still heavy from sleep.

“I’ll get you snacks,” Carina offered with a soft smile. “But we’re not going there for fun, okay? It might take a while. You need to be patient

Andrea nodded like she’d just been entrusted with a secret mission. Liam simply grabbed his earbuds.

Ana pulled up to the curb, stepping out of the car to open the door and help fold the ramp.

“Morning,” she said, her tone light but watchful. She didn’t hover anymore, not like in the beginning but Carina could tell she still worried. Quietly. In the way she double-checked seatbelts and always made sure Carina’s chair was perfectly balanced.

As Ana secured the ramp, Liam climbed in first, followed by Andrea, who buckled herself in and immediately started drawing. Carina rolled up with practiced ease, transferring into the seat beside Andrea.

As Ana drove, the car was calm, filled with the sound of tires on pavement, soft humming from Andrea, and Liam’s fingers tapping lightly against the window.

Carina stared out, watching the streets pass. Everything looked so familiar the route to Grey Sloan embedded into her like muscle memory but today, it was different.

She was a mother, bringing her children into a space where she’d once felt powerful, and now felt small.

The doors of Grey Sloan Memorial slid open with their usual soft whoosh, and for a moment, Carina forgot to breathe.

The scent of antiseptic and coffee hit her first instantly familiar, like a memory she hadn’t meant to summon. The busy murmur of voices, the beeping monitors, the shuffle of sneakers on tile it all came back at once.

She was no longer Dr. DeLuca here.It didn’t take long before someone noticed her.

“Carina?”

She turned her head. A nurse from OB-GYN Kelly stood near the nurses’ station, holding a clipboard, her eyes wide in surprise.

Carina smiled gently. “Ciao.”

“Oh my God, It’s… it’s really good to see you,” Kelly said, stepping closer, her voice lowering respectfully. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Getting there,” Carina replied softly.

Kelly’s eyes flicked to the kids, then back to her. “You look strong.”

It felt like the kindest lie.

Another voice: “Dr. DeLuca?”

A tech from imaging. Then an intern from her teaching days.

They all said the same things “So glad you’re okay,” “You look great,” “You’re so brave” each well-meaning, each one a reminder of everything she used to be in this building.

The questions never came. No one asked if she’d ever be back. They just smiled too long and disappeared.

And Carina sat there, quiet, her smile tight, heart thudding.

When they were gone, Ana leaned down. “You okay?”

Carina nodded. “I just… didn’t expect to feel like a guest in my own hospital.”

Ana gave a knowing look. “They still see you.”

Carina glanced at the kids. Andrea was flipping through her drawings now. Liam was quietly sitting with his back to the wall, watching every person who passed like they might ask too many questions.

“I’m going in,” Carina said, her voice steady again. “You’ll stay with them?”

Ana nodded. “Of course.”

Carina reached over, brushed Andrea’s curls gently. “Be good for Ana, okay?”

“Can I give the nurse a drawing?” Andrea asked.

Carina smiled. “You can give it to me, and I’ll give it to her:, then turned and wheeled herself toward the elevators, alone.

Back into the building where everything changed. Back into the version of herself she wasn’t sure how to reclaim.

The hospital waiting room wasn’t built for children. The chairs were too hard, the air too cold, and the vending machine didn’t take cards. Andrea had already declared she was bored at least twice, and Liam was slouched in his chair, playing a silent game on Maya’s old tablet with the screen cracked in one corner.

Ana had just stepped away to grab them something from the café downstairs when Andrea looked up and squinted toward the front desk.

“Hey…” she whispered, elbowing Liam. “Isn’t that Mommy?

Liam sat up straighter, following her gaze.

Sure enough at the front desk, was Maya. She was filling out paperwork, flipping through a clipboard without looking up.

Andrea didn’t wait. She hopped off her chair and took off toward her.

“Wait Andy!” Liam hissed, tossing the tablet aside and running after her.

Maya looked up the second she heard her name.

Mommy! Andrea called, smiling wide as she threw her arms around Maya’s waist. Maya’s pen slipped from her hand. “What are you two doing here?”

Liam slowed to a stop beside them. “We came with Mamma, She had to see her doctor.”

Maya’s eyes narrowed with immediate concern. “Why? What happened? Is she okay?

Andrea shrugged. “She said just check-up stuff. Maya crouched down, heart hammering. “Is she okay?”

“She looked okay,” Liam said. But there was a flicker of uncertainty in his voice, the kind that only Maya could catch.

“Who brought you here?” Maya asked.

“Ana,” Andrea said, glancing back toward the hallway. “She went to get snacks.”

Maya exhaled, rubbing her forehead. “Okay…”

She wasn’t sure what this tightness in her chest was concern, guilt, something else entirely but it sat there like a weight she couldn’t swallow.

Andrea tugged at her sleeve. “Want to wait with us?”

Maya hesitated, then looked toward the hallway again. “Yeah… I think I will.”

Maya sat with them, suddenly feeling caught between two worlds. She wasn’t supposed to be here today. She hadn’t planned on seeing Carina. She didn’t even know she was at Grey Sloan. But now, every part of her was on alert. Liam was quiet, occasionally glancing up at Maya, like he wasn’t sure if she was staying or passing through.

Then, finally, the elevator dinged. The sound of wheels came next.

Carina turned the corner.

She looked tired but composed hair tied back neatly, scarf still around her neck. Her expression shifted the second she saw Maya sitting there, flanked by their children. Her eyes widened slightly, surprised… but not upset.

Maya stood, straightening her station hoodie. “I was… filling out some forms. I saw them. Just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

Carina nodded. “It was just routine. A few tests. Nothing alarming.”

Maya studied her for a second, then softened. “You look… good.”

Carina smiled, a little crooked.

They stood there for a moment, not quite sure how to shift from past tension to this small, neutral ground they’d somehow landed on.

Andrea solved it. “Mamma, can we get ice cream on the way home?”

Carina raised her eyebrows. “That depends. Were you good?”

“She was,” Maya offered, smiling. Liam shrugged. “I was too.”

Carina smiled at him. “Of course you were.”

Maya reached for tablet from Liam “Well… I should head out.

“Are you going back to Station 19?” Carina asked, a small catch in her voice she didn’t mean to show

“Yeah,” Maya nodded. “Long night ahead.”

“Well,” Carina said softly, “thanks for staying.”

Maya nodded. “You’re welcome.”

She leaned down, kissed Andrea on the head, then ruffled Liam’s hair.

“I’ll see you both tonight, yeah?”

“Promise?” Andrea asked, squinting up at her. “Promise,” Maya said, gently, you can wait up for me..

Then she looked back at Carina. Just a flicker. “Text me if you need anything.”

Carina nodded

After her shift Maya went for therapy, She sat on the couch across from her therapist, legs bouncing slightly, hands knotted in her lap. Her usually sharp posture was slouched, defeated.

Dr. Jensen gave her space. She knew Maya. She knew that silence wasn’t avoidance it was armor.

“How are you doing today?” she asked gently.

Maya let out a breath that was closer to a laugh, only it didn’t sound amused. “I’m still living in the same house as my wife. I see my kids every day. I wake up at 5am to make breakfast, drop them at school, help with homework… and somehow, I feel more alone than I ever have in my life.”

Dr. Jensen said nothing, just nodded, listening.

Maya looked up, her eyes red-rimmed but dry. “She asked for space. I said okay. I moved into the damn back room. I stopped sitting at our table. I stepped back from our family my family because she said she needed it to find herself.”

Her voice cracked on that last part. She clenched her jaw, fighting it down.

“And I get it. I do. She lost so much. Her body, her independence, her job. I get it.” Her voice dropped, bitter now. “But what no one asks is what I lost.”

Dr. Jensen leaned forward slightly. “What did you lose, Maya?”

Maya blinked hard. The silence stretched.

“I lost her ” she whispered. “I lost my wife. The person I used to come home to, fight with, laugh with, crawl into bed with. I lost the rhythm of our life. I lost who I was with her. And I hate that I’m not allowed to say that out loud without sounding selfish.”

She rubbed her face, hard. “I carry everything now. The house, the kids, her pain, my pain… and no one sees it. Not really. Because I’m the strong one. The one who runs into burning buildings. The one who doesn’t fall apart.”

Dr. Jensen’s voice was steady. “You’re allowed to fall apart.”

Maya laughed, wet and sarcastic. “Yeah? And then who holds it together for the kids? For her?”

Silence again.

Then so softly she barely heard herself Maya said, “It’s not that I don’t love her. I do. I feel like I’m grieving someone who’s still alive.”

Tears slid down her cheeks before she could stop them. She didn’t wipe them. She just stared straight ahead, broken wide open in a way she hadn’t let herself be in weeks.

“I’m hurting,” she said finally. “And I don’t know how much more I can take before I stop being me altogether.”

Dr. Jensen didn’t rush to fix it. Didn’t give her a solution.

She just let Maya cry for everything she’d been holding in, for the pieces she didn’t know how to carry anymore.

Because sometimes, that was the bravest thing a strong person could do.

Break.

Dr. Jensen leaned forward slightly, her voice soft but unwavering. “It’s okay to be angry, Maya. You don’t need to pretend that you’re not. What Carina did what she’s still doing by shutting you out it hurts. And you’re allowed to feel that.”

Maya’s throat tightened. Her jaw clenched as her eyes welled up, but she blinked them back.

“I know you want to be strong. But being angry doesn’t mean you don’t love her. It means you’re human. You’ve been holding this together for everyone for Carina, for the kids… but what about you?”

Maya’s voice was low, cracked. “I don’t want to be angry with her.

“She will,” Dr. Jensen said gently. “But right now, Maya, you still have two little humans who look at you like the world rises and falls in your hands. And you’re not alone. You have today. You have breath in your lungs. You have the chance to laugh again, even if it feels impossible now.”

Maya looked down, another tear slipping onto her jeans.

“One day,” Dr. Jensen continued, “you’re going to wake up and realize you don’t feel like you’re drowning anymore. One day, your smile won’t feel like a lie. And one day… this version of pain will feel more like a memory than a presence.”

Maya nodded, slowly, eyes wet but clearer.

“You’re doing better than you think,” Dr. Jensen said gently, her voice like a breeze that didn’t try to push only offer space. “You showed up. That’s something. That’s grief talking. Change, loss these things don’t just ask for our time. They demand our surrender, too. But Maya… there is a positive side to this, even if it’s hard to see from where you’re sitting.”

Maya blinked. “A positive side?” Her voice cracked with disbelief. “My wife barely looks at me. We’re living in two different realities. I don’t even know how to fix this.”

“You can’t fix everything,” Dr. Jensen replied. “But you can choose how you move through it.”

Maya turned her head slightly, listening.

“This might be the time,” the therapist continued, “where you give yourself permission to rest, to heal. You’ve carried so much for Carina, for your kids. What if, instead of trying to glue the pieces back together too quickly, you took this season to learn something new about your life? About yourself.”

“Spend time with Liam and Andrea. Let them see you not just surviving, but living again. Create something in this in-between space. A new rhythm, a new memory, even if it’s just Sunday pancakes and muddy shoes in the yard.”

Maya let out a small, dry laugh. “They do love ruining clean floors.”

Dr. Jensen smiled. “Then let them. Let yourself breathe in the mess and the magic of it all. And as for Carina…”

Maya looked up.

“She’s still there. And she’s hurting. People don’t push away the ones they love because they’ve stopped loving them. They do it because love makes them vulnerable and right now, she’s scared.”

Maya swallowed hard. “Do you really think she’ll come around?”

“I do,” Dr. Jensen said firmly. “But it has to happen in her time, not yours. All you can do is keep showing up with patience, with honesty, and with love.”

Maya looked down again, the weight still there but shifting, just slightly. There was no fix. But there was hope.

And maybe, for today, that was enough.

Back at home living room it was nothing but chaos cushions on the floor, half-eaten snacks on the table, Andrea hopping from the couch to the rug like it was lava. Carina sat in her wheelchair by the window, phone pressed to her ear, distracted as she half-listened to her physical therapist on the line.

“Try to add light resistance this week, but don’t push too far,” the voice on the other end was saying.

“Mhm,” Carina responded, eyes flicking toward the kids, but not really seeing them.

Andrea had grabbed Liam’s water bottle again, teasing him by pretending to drink from it. He lunged for it, but she was quick darting behind the couch with a mischievous grin.

“Mamma !” Liam said loudly, frustration bubbling. “She’s doing it again. Can you tell her to stop?”

Carina didn’t answer fast enough.

Liam’s voice sharpened Mamma!

Startled, Carina dropped her phone it hit the floor with a soft clack.

“I got it!” Andrea squealed, running to grab it before Carina could bend forward.

“Wait, Andrea Carina started, but she was too late.

At that exact moment, they all heard it.

The soft hum of the engine. The scrape of tires on the driveway. The unmistakable low purr of Maya’s car rolling into its usual spot out back.

Liam’s head snapped toward the back door. Andrea froze, still crouched on the floor with the phone in her hand.

And then without a word they both ran.

Feet pounding against the hallway floor, laughter and energy rising like a tide. No hesitation. No questions. Just that instinct, to pull . That even if Maya was living at the far edge of the house now, she was still theirs. Her phone lay on the lap. Andrea had picked it up after all.

The back door creaked open Maya stepped in quietly, like she always did, shoulders tense, sunglasses still on even though the sun was fading. She hadn’t meant to keep them on just forgot. Or maybe she didn’t want anyone to see her eyes.

The floor creaked as she set her bag down in the corner of the outer room, the old guest room that had somehow become hers She hadn’t even taken her boots off yet when the door burst open.

Two shadows flew in.

“Mommy!” Andrea’s voice rang out, barefoot and beaming. Liam followed behind her, trying to act cool, but he was smiling too.

Maya blinked, taken off guard. “You guys just… barging in now?” she asked, raising a brow behind her dark lenses.

Andrea climbed onto her bed like she owned it. “We heard the door. We always hear the door.”

Liam leaned against the doorway. “You’re wearing sunglasses inside. You look like a secret agent.”

Maya smirked, “Maybe I am a secret agent. And this is my hideout.”

Andrea gasped. “Are there gadgets? Is the bunny a gadget?” She held up her stuffed rabbit.

Maya laughed. “No. But there is a flashlight that doesn’t need batteries, and I do have secret snack drawers.”

Liam grinned, walking in now, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. “Your room is cool. Like actual cool.”

Maya raised an eyebrow. “That’s a low-key dig at your Mamma's room

Andrea nodded solemnly. “We like it in here.”

Maya looked at them for a long moment. These two little humans hers and not hers, perfect and chaotic, anchoring her without even knowing it.

“You know,” she said softly, “you could knock.”

Andrea giggled. “You’d say no.”

Maya sat down beside Liam, tousled his hair. “No, I wouldn’t.”

He leaned into her just a little. “We know.”

The next morning when the house was still quiet. The kind of silence that wasn’t peaceful, but tense, stretched thin like the final thread in a frayed rope.

Maya moved through the kitchen like a stranger, her steps soft, careful, as if the floorboards might betray her presence. Her eyes were tired, her face pale.

She had poured herself a cup of coffee, her hand still curled around the warm ceramic when she heard it, The soft glide of wheels against hardwood.

Her breath caught.

Carina entered the kitchen, her face unreadable, a cardigan hanging loose around her shoulders, her hair pulled back into a low, tired bun. She looked exhausted more than usual but it was her eyes that stopped Maya cold.

Guarded. Dim.

Maya cleared her throat. “Hey.”Carina glanced over briefly. “Hi.”

The one word sat heavy in the space between them.

Maya shifted on her feet, gripping her mug tighter. “I… um… I was gonna ask how your check-up went.”

Carina paused, glass in hand. For a moment, Maya wasn’t sure she’d answer.

Then…
“It was fine,” Carina said, her voice low, her accent thicker than usual. “The spasms are more frequent, but… they adjusted my meds. Said I might need another scan.”

Maya nodded slowly, the lump in her throat growing. “That’s… good they’re keeping an eye on it.”

Carina made a small sound not quite agreement, not quite dismissal and took a sip of water.

Maya stared down at the swirling black in her mug, her voice quieter now. “I was worried. But I didn’t know if I could… ask.”

That made Carina pause again. She looked over at Maya, her eyes softer now, but still guarded. “You can .

They stood in that fragile quiet for a few more moments two people who used to be everything to each other, now sharing only a silence.

Then Carina turned her chair slightly, heading toward the doorway. “Thanks for asking,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Maya watched from her spot by the coffee maker, unsure if she should leave or stay.

But Carina didn’t ask her to go.

Instead, she started pulling ingredients off the lower shelves, grabbing eggs, oats, almond milk. Ana had organized the pantry to make everything reachable, and Maya had helped but seeing her now, moving with efficiency and quiet confidence, made something catch in Maya’s throat.

There was a time not long ago when Carina could barely get out of bed. A time when even the thought of entering the kitchen made her shut down completely.

Now, here she was making breakfast. Not because she had to. But because she could.

Without thinking, Maya moved toward the fridge, opened it, and grabbed the strawberries Carina always liked in her oatmeal. She placed them silently on the counter, sliding them toward her.

Carina paused, glanced up at Maya, and for a split second, their eyes met. There was no smile, but there wasn’t coldness either. Just a quiet acknowledgment.

“Thanks,” Carina murmured.

Maya nodded. “They looked good at the store.”

Carina took them without another word, rinsing them in a colander she’d placed at the lowered sink another adaptation Maya had insisted on. But she hadn’t expected to stand here one day and feel so… removed from it all.

Maya stood still, coffee in hand, watching her.

The way Carina had started using her left hand more when her right got stiff. The way she tucked the tea towel on her lap so she wouldn’t need to reach across the counter.

Every movement screamed strength, even when it looked small.

Maya had thought seeing her like this would hurt would be too much. But what she felt now was something else.

Pride.

And the ache that came with missing someone who was still just ten feet away.

The strawberries were already being chopped, and Carina reached for the cinnamon. It was a quiet routine, but it was a routine. A reclaiming of space.

Maya didn’t say another word. She just stood there, quietly passing the honey when she saw Carina glance toward the top shelf.

Carina’s hands paused over the bowl, her knife slowing as she glanced sideways toward Maya. Her voice was soft almost casual, but there was something behind it, a tentative offering that felt heavier than it sounded.

“Do you want some?”

Maya blinked, as if she’d just been pulled from underwater. Her grip on her coffee mug tightened slightly, eyes flicking from the bowl to Carina’s face.

“What?”

Carina looked back at her, a faint crease between her brows. “The oatmeal. Do you want some?”

It took Maya a moment to respond like her brain was still catching up. She hadn’t expected Carina to ask. She hadn’t expected to be asked.

And that alone made her chest ache.

“Yeah,” Maya said, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I’d love some.”

Carina gave a small nod and turned back to her task, scooping another portion into a second bowl. She didn’t say anything more, didn’t make it a moment, didn’t ask what Maya had been thinking about just moved smoothly through the routine like it was any other day.

But to Maya, it wasn’t.

She stepped forward, slowly, the weight of the distance between them pressing in from all sides. As Carina slid the second bowl onto the counter, their hands nearly brushed, and the tiniest jolt ran through Maya’s arm.

Their eyes met again.

Maya took the bowl, their fingers not touching, but almost.

“Thanks,” she said, voice low.

“Welcome,” she replied simply.

Maya waited until she heard the soft click of the front door before she moved. Carina had left for her therapy appointment her third this week and Maya knew she wouldn’t be back for a couple of hours.

The moment the house settled into that familiar hush, Maya set her coffee down and started moving with quiet purpose.

She walked into the kitchen, opened one of the high cupboards, and stared at it for a long moment. It was crammed with spices, dry goods, dishes all out of reach for Carina without asking someone to help. She had seen it. Heard the small sighs of frustration Carina never thought Maya caught.

Maya had caught all of it.

The reach that was just a little too far.
The drawer handles that were stiff.
The way Carina had to awkwardly shift to get a single pan from under the counter.
The moments she stayed silent instead of asking.

So now, Maya moved quietly through the kitchen, emptying the high shelves one by one. She took the most-used items and started reorganizing pulling out storage baskets, rearranging drawers, lowering everything she could to counters or reachable spaces.

She wasn’t trying to fix Carina.

She was trying to fix the house.

She had just finished lowering the dish rack when she heard small feet padding behind her.

“Mum?” Liam’s voice was full of curiosity, a strawberry half-eaten in his hand. Andrea trailed behind him, dragging her bunny by one ear. “What are you doing?”

Maya looked over her shoulder, surprised to see them up already. “Hey, little monsters,” she said softly, then straightened up. “I’m just… making the kitchen easier for Mamma to use.”

Andrea blinked up at her. “Did it break?”

Maya smiled gently, shaking her head. “No, sweetie. But it’s hard for her to reach some things, and I want her to be able to get to everything by herself. So I’m moving things lower.”

Liam tilted his head, thinking about that. “So she doesn’t have to ask anymore?”

Maya’s heart clenched. Leave it to Liam to hit the truth right in the center.

“Yeah,” she said, voice quiet. “So she doesn’t have to ask.”

Andrea plopped down on the floor beside the basket of spices Maya had taken down. “Can I help?”

Maya blinked, surprised. “You want to help?”

Andrea nodded solemnly. Yeah it looks fun.

And with their help, she kept going rearranging a home to feel more like one Carina could move through freely, without needing permission.

Maya was kneeling on the kitchen floor, sorting through another stack of plates when Liam suddenly spoke up, his voice casual, curious.

“We saw some kids at the fourth house from ours,” he said, placing a bundle of dish towels into the bottom drawer with Andrea. “They had scooters. And a dog! ”Not a baby one,” Liam clarified, “but still cool.”

Maya smiled, glancing at him as she passed a few spice jars to Andrea to line up. “Yeah? What were they doing?”

“Just playing outside,” Liam shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. But then he looked up at her with hopeful eyes. “Can we go over sometime? Maybe say hi?”

Andrea piped up, “Maybe the puppy can lick my hand!”

Maya paused, letting their excitement fill the room. It had been a while since the kids had asked to go out and meet other children so much of their world had revolved around quiet, staying home, letting Carina rest. And Maya had let that become the default.

She gave them both a warm smile, smoothing Andrea’s hair back gently. Oh I get it why you’re helping today,” she said.

Liam grinned. “So we can go?”

“If we finish this kitchen and if Mamma says it’s okay, yes.”

Andrea squealed, grabbing two jars of oats and shoving them into the open basket slightly upside down, but Maya didn’t correct her.

“Deal!” Liam said proudly, holding out a little palm. Maya gave it a high five.

As they continued organizing, giggling and chatting, Maya felt the smallest spark of peace settle in her chest.

This these tiny wins, these shared goals, these ordinary acts of kindness this was how they’d hold their family together.

One drawer at a time.

Chapter Text

Carina rolled herself into the kitchen. She wasn’t rushing, there was a certain stillness in her movements that came after therapy, a cautiousness born not from fear but from deliberate care.

She stopped just past the threshold and immediately noticed it.

The spice rack was no longer perched high above the stove; it sat neatly at counter height, baskets organized by type and label. The cereal boxes were tucked into the lower cupboards, easy for the kids to reach and for her, too. The mugs she used most were now hanging from hooks just low enough that she didn’t have to strain or awkwardly fumble.

Her fingers brushed the countertop lightly, as if confirming it was real.

The kitchen looked different. It felt different. Like it belonged to her again. Like someone had finally thought about what she needed without her having to ask or explain or feel guilty.

Carina swallowed against the unexpected lump in her throat.

She knew whose hands had done this. Whose careful mind had thought about every drawer, every reach, every small struggle she’d tried to hide.

Maya.

It wasn't just adaptions. It was care, wrapped in silence. Love, expressed in the way only Maya Bishop knew how action first, words second.

Carina turned slightly, her hand resting against the edge of the counter, taking a slow breath in just as the sound of pounding footsteps rushed toward her.

“Mamma!”

Andrea came barreling into the kitchen first, followed closely by Liam, both of them flushed with excitement.

You remember what we told you on the phone right? Andrea squealed, tugging lightly at the side of Carina’s chair.

“Mamma, please, please come with us!” Liam begged, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “We want to you take us. Andrea’s curls bounced as she nodded furiously.

Carina laughed softly, the warmth of their energy pushing back the heavy weight that had been sitting on her chest all day.

“Slow down, slow down!” she said, her hands raised playfully. “You want me to come meet your new friends ‘to be sì?”

“Yes!” both kids cried out at once.

Andrea was the first to notice. She tugged lightly at Carina’s sleeve and whispered, “Mamma, Mommy’s sleeping. So you take us instead? You don’t even have to walk, just roll your wheels!”

Carina's hands stilled on the rims of her chair.

The kids looked at her with such trust, such blind faith that she could do this that it wasn’t a big thing.

But to her, it was.

Every small trip outside the house still felt like threading a needle with shaking fingers.
Every stretch of sidewalk still felt like a tightrope.
The world outside her carefully adapted house felt enormous and unpredictable, a place where she wasn’t always sure of her footing or her strength.

For a moment, Carina almost said no. Almost told them to wait until Maya woke up, to put it off, to stay where it was safe.

And she looked down at Liam and Andrea both standing there, expectant and trusting, believing without question that their Mamma could handle this.

And maybe... maybe she could.

Carina swallowed, forcing herself to breathe past the tightening in her chest. She turned her chair fully toward the door and gave them a small, determined smile.

“Okay,” she said, her voice steady despite the thundering of her heart. “But you both have to stay close to me. No running off, capito?”

Andrea rushed ahead to hold the door open, and, As Carina rolled out into the sunshine, she felt the crackle of anxiety under her skin but she also felt something else.
Pride.

Not because it was easy.
But because she was doing it anyway.

And sometimes, being brave wasn’t about grand moments.

Sometimes it was about saying yes to a small adventure, even when everything inside you whispered no.

Carina glanced up at the sky as she followed her children down the walkway, feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin, the wheels of her chair gliding smoothly over the path.

The walk or, for Carina, the slow, cautious roll down the sidewalk felt longer than it should have. Every crack in the pavement seemed bigger, every uneven slope sharper. But Liam and Andrea stayed true to their promise, sticking close to her sides, their excitement pulling her along like a current.

By the time they reached the fourth house, Carina’s palms were damp against the rims of her chair, her heart thudding like a drum in her ears.

The house itself was cheerful, with bright blue shutters and a small front porch where a few potted plants spilled over their rims. A red tricycle lay abandoned on the lawn, and Carina could already hear the distant barking of the puppy they had been promised.

Andrea ran ahead to the bottom step, bouncing impatiently. “Ring it, Mamma! Ring it!”

Carina smiled at his enthusiasm, her fingers a little shaky as she rolled up to the front door. She hesitated for half a second just a breath then lifted her hand and knocked firmly.

The puppy started barking immediately, and the door swung open faster than she expected.

A woman about her age stood there, wiping her hands on a dish towel, her hair pulled into a messy bun. She wore jeans and a soft, worn T-shirt, and her expression shifted from curious to warmly surprised the moment she saw Carina and the kids.

“Hi!” the woman said brightly, stepping onto the porch.

Carina offered a gentle, polite smile, her voice only slightly shaky at first. “Ciao. Hi. I’m Carina… and these are my children, Liam and Andrea.” She rested a hand lightly on each of their shoulders. “We live just a few houses down.”

Liam clutched the edge of Carina’s chair, suddenly a little shy. Andrea just grinned wide, practically bouncing.

Carina continued, her voice growing a bit steadier. “They saw your children playing the other day and were very excited. They were hoping… if it’s alright… they could come and play for a little while?”

The woman’s face lit up. “Oh! Of course! That would be wonderful.” She bent slightly to wave at Liam and Andrea. “I’m Jess. My two little hurricanes are Jamie and Nora you probably saw them.” She grinned, tucking the towel into her pocket. “Come in, come in! They’re in the backyard now. And Max the puppy is dying for more attention.”

Carina let out a small breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Relief flooded her chest, warmth spreading up into her throat.

Jess held the door wide open, stepping back to make room, without a single flicker of hesitation or awkwardness at the sight of Carina’s chair. No pity. No weird glances. Just simple, open kindness.

Liam grabbed Andrea’s hand, pulling her inside eagerly, both of them shouting thanks before disappearing down the hallway after the sound of barking and giggles.

Carina maneuvered carefully over the threshold, smiling up at Jess as she did.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely, her heart still pounding not from fear anymore, but from the strange, quiet thrill of doing it.

Jess smiled warmly. “Anytime. And you’re welcome to stay for coffee, if you’d like.”

Carina hesitated, the old anxiety brushing, I would loved to but Thank you .I’ll see in bit when picking them up.

Carina rolled slowly back toward the house, the sun beginning its slow descent behind the rooftops. The simple act of bringing the kids to a neighbor’s house had left her tired, but there was a lightness to her now the kind that came after facing something hard and realizing you hadn’t broken from it.

As she approached their front steps, she saw a familiar figure closing the gate ,Ana, her home nurse, a clipboard tucked under her arm and a kind, knowing smile on her face.

Ana spotted her instantly and gave a little wave. “Hey, Carina. Just finished arranging the new meds and updating your file.Just make sure you take it easy tonight, okay? Looks like a busy afternoon.”

Carina chuckled softly, nodding. “We survived meeting new friends.”

Ana laughed, waved goodbye, and walked to her car ..her steps light and quick.

Carina pushed open the door, letting it close quietly behind her. She paused just inside, her hands still on the wheels. Something felt... different.

Carina rolled quietly down the hall, her wheels barely making a sound against the polished wood floors. She stopped just outside the outer room Maya’s room now and hesitated.

The door was closed, but not tightly. A thin slice of muted light spilled out onto the floor.

Carina lifted her hand and knocked softly.
Once.
Twice. No answer.

Still, something deep in Carina’s chest urged her forward. Carefully, she pushed the door open with the side of her hand, just wide enough to slip inside.

And there she was.

Maya lay curled in bed ,a blanket tangled around her legs. Her hair was messy, falling across her face in dark waves. Her breathing was slow, almost too still, her face slack with an exhaustion that went deeper than just the physical.

Carina didn’t say anything.
Didn’t move, not right away.

She simply stayed there, staring at her wife the woman who had carried so much for so long, who hid her cracks until they threatened to break her wide open.

The ache that filled Carina’s chest was sharp and familiar.

Carina rolled a little closer, careful not to startle her, until she was right beside the bed. She leaned forward slightly, just enough to take in the curve of Maya’s cheek, the faint flutter of her eyelashes.

And then slowly Maya’s eyes opened.

They stared at each other, neither speaking, neither moving. Just two hearts breathing the same heavy air, caught between the wreckage of everything they had survived.
Carina didn’t look away. She wouldn’t.
After a long moment, her voice finally broke the silence, soft and trembling but steady enough.
“Are you alright?”

Maya blinked slowly, as if the weight of the question took time to process. She gave a tiny nod, the kind that could’ve meant anything or nothing.

“Yes,” she whispered.

But Carina didn’t trust the word. Not completely. Not when Maya’s eyes told a different story.

Gently, tenderly, Carina lifted her hand and pressed it to Maya’s forehead, her palm cool against Maya’s skin. She was checking for a fever she wasn’t even sure why she did it.

It was instinct.
It was care.
It was a way of saying.

Maya’s eyes closed briefly at the touch, her whole body seeming to melt a little closer to the mattress, as if the simple connection loosened something inside her that had been wound too tight for too long.

Carina kept her hand resting against Maya’s forehead for a beat longer, feeling the slight clamminess of her skin, the faint tension lingering beneath the surface.

Carina’s heart twisted. She drew back slightly, her voice low but firm, carrying the weight of everything she could see and everything Maya was trying to hide.

“You’re sick,” Carina said, not as an accusation, but as a simple, heartbreaking truth.

Maya’s eyes fluttered open again, staring past Carina to some distant point on the ceiling. She didn’t argue.
She didn’t defend herself.
She said nothing at all.

Carina’s chest tightened. She reached out again, brushing Maya’s hair off her forehead, her movements slow and tender, almost reverent.

“I could tell something was wrong,” she whispered. “You never sleep during the day. Not unless She stopped, swallowing against the lump rising in her throat. “Not unless your body can’t fight anymore.”

Maya closed her eyes briefly, her face tightening at the words. Like hearing them aloud made it real in a way she hadn’t been ready for.

Carina brushed her thumb lightly across Maya’s wrist once more before letting her hand fall back to her lap. She watched Maya for a few seconds longer the hollowed look around her eyes, the paleness of her skin before she spoke again, her voice firm but kind.

“Have you have you taken anything ?”
Maya shook her head almost imperceptibly, as if even that small admission cost her something.

Carina sighed quietly, her heart aching all over again. She shifted her chair back with a soft scrape of wheels against the wood floor. “Alright first I’ll make you something.”

Maya didn't protest. She simply closed her eyes again, her body giving in to the idea that maybe, just maybe, it was okay to be taken care of for once.

"You should go to our bedroom," she said, her hand brushing lightly against Maya’s knee. "The outer room is too far from everything... and I want to make it easier to check on you."

Maya blinked, clearly surprised by the suggestion. Her eyes searched Carina’s face, almost like she was trying to figure out if this was just about practicality or if it meant something more.

Carina smiled, just a little. Not pushing. Just offering.

"I want you closer," she admitted, voice low, almost shy. "I need to know you're okay without... rolling across the whole house to find you."

Maya hesitated, the old stubbornness flickering in her tired eyes, but it faded quickly. She nodded, too exhausted to argue, and maybe deep down glad for the excuse to accept a little more care.

Carina straightened her posture and gave a small, satisfied nod. Rolled toward the kitchen, as Maya moved to their her movements swift and sure now. She knew exactly what she wanted something simple, something warm.
Soup.

She found a carton of vegetable broth in the pantry, pulling it down easily thanks to the new adapted shelves. In a rhythm that had become second nature, she gathered carrots, celery, a handful of pasta, moving between the sink and stove with ease. She seasoned it with a light hand, just enough to make it comforting, and let it simmer gently on the stove while she moved to the cabinet where they kept Maya’s medication.

Painkillers. Fever reducers. Things Maya would never ask for herself unless she was completely cornered.

Carina measured out the right dose, placing it carefully on a napkin beside a clean glass of water.

When the soup was ready, she ladled it into a deep bowl, making sure it wasn’t too hot, and balanced everything the bowl, the water, the medication hon a tray across her lap.

She rolled back to their room where Maya lay, her breathing slow but uneven, like she was caught somewhere between sleep and guilt.

Carina stopped beside the bed and set the tray carefully on the coffee table.

“Maya,” she said softly, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

Maya’s eyes fluttered open again, and for a moment, they just looked at each other no walls, no defenses, only exhaustion and quiet trust hanging in the space between them.

“I made you some soup,” Carina said gently, her accent curling around the words. “And your medicine.”

Maya blinked at the tray, then back at Carina. There was gratitude in her face, yes, but something deeper too a fragile sort of grief at having to need this much, and a fragile kind of hope that it might be okay to receive it.

Without a word, Carina handed Maya the she put the thermometer near Maya fore head Maya sighed but tucked it under her tongue obediently, her cheeks pink with fever and maybe just a little embarrassment.

Carina sat quietly beside her, arms crossed loosely over her lap, waiting. Her presence was steady, patient the kind of calm that didn’t demand anything, just was.

When the thermometer beeped. Carina read the number and frowned, her lips pressing into a tight line.

“Still too high,” she murmured.

Maya opened her mouth to downplay it, but Carina shook her head before she could even get a word out.

“No arguing.” Her voice was gentle but firm, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Medicine first. Then more soup.”

Maya gave a tiny mock salute that made Carina roll her eyes affectionately. She placed two pills carefully into Maya’s hand and offered the glass of water, watching to make sure she swallowed them before passing the soup bowl into her lap.

“You need to eat,” Carina said softly. “It’ll help.”

Maya nodded, spooning up a mouthful, the warmth of it already helping loosen the fog behind her eyes.

Carina lingered for a second, as if she wanted to stay and fuss over her a little more, but then she straightened her posture and smoothed a hand over her lap.

“I’m going to take a quick shower while you eat,” she said, her voice light but lined with unspoken meaning I'll be back. I'm not going far.

Maya tilted her head, her tired blue eyes softening as she looked up at her.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Carina smiled and brushed her knuckles lightly across Maya’s arm before turning her chair toward the bathroom.

Chapter Text

Carina hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

She’d only meant to rest her eyes, just for a moment. The room was dim and quiet, the curtains drawn halfway to filter out the brightness of the late afternoon sun. Maya’s steady breathing from the bed had lulled her into stillness.

The day had caught up with her. The emotional weight. The stillness of watching someone she once leaned on now needing her.

She hadn’t felt needed like that in a long time.

A soft knock pulled her from the fog of sleep. Gentle, like whoever was knocking knew not to disturb too harshly. Carina blinked, momentarily disoriented, her neck stiff and her back sore from the awkward position.

She rubbed her eyes and wheeled quietly to the door, cracking it open.

Jess stood there, smiling, her curls wild from the wind and her arms gently nudging Andrea and Liam forward.

“Hey,” Jess said softly. “Didn’t mean to wake you just wanted to drop these two off before they figured out how to move in with us.”

Andrea grinned sleepily and immediately wrapped her arms around Carina’s waist. “Mamma! We had the best time!”

Carina smiled, brushing hair out of Andrea’s face. “Did you thank Jess?”

“We did!” Liam said proudly, looking taller and a little more sun-dusted than he had just hours earlier.

Jess shifted her weight. “I made cookies. The good kind. The kind I don’t share with my kids. Thought you might want to come by for one. Or three.”

Carina hesitated. Everything in her body wanted to say no.But there was a softness in Jess’s voice, in the offer it wasn’t just about cookies. It was about life. The invitation to join it again.

Carina nodded slowly. “I would love to.”

Jess smiled. “wonderful Liam gave me your number I’ll text you.”

She watched Jess walk away, then turned to her kids, who had kicked off their shoes and were already climbing onto the couch like they’d been gone for days.

“So…” Carina said as she rolled over to them, “how was your first official hangout with the wild backyard crew?”

Liam’s eyes lit up. “We made a mud volcano and it actually exploded!”

Andrea leaned in with a whisper. “I kissed the cat.”

Carina blinked. “You… what?”

Andrea nodded solemnly. “He didn’t like it. But I think we’re still friends.”

As Carina moved toward the kitchen, she could hear the familiar hum of the television powering on behind her, followed by the unmistakable sound of cartoon voices echoing through the living room.

“Only one episode,” she called over her shoulder, already knowing she was being generously optimistic.

Andrea, followed her grabbing a juice box from the fridge she looked up with that particular brand of innocence that always came right before a dangerous request.

“Mamma,” she said sweetly, “can we get a pet?”

Carina didn’t even pause. “No.”

Andrea pouted instantly. “Why not?”

“Because we have two kids. That’s already a full zoo,” Carina said, lifting a pan onto the stove.

Andrea leaned back dramatically, limbs sprawled like she was rehearsing for a soap opera. “Then I’m going to ask Mommy.”

Carina turned around just enough to give her the look . “Mommy is sleeping. She’s not feeling well. “So let’s let her rest, okay? No pet negotiations today.”

Liam, meanwhile, had become fully absorbed in his show until he heard the next set of words come out of Carina’s mouth.

Infact shower time both you. And you, you can use Mamma’s bathroom tonight, it’s easier if you need help.”

Andrea nodded with a little skip. “Okay!”

Liam frowned, horrified. “No way. I’m not using your bathroom.”

Carina arched a brow, trying not to smile. “Why not?”

“Because it’s your bathroom. It smells like… candles and feelings.”

Andrea burst into a fit of giggles.

Carina just shook her head. “Fine, then. Use whichever one you want Just shower please. You smell like a muddy volcano.”

“I was a volcano!,” Liam said proudly, already heading toward the stairs.

Carina wheeled quietly into the bathroom where Andrea stood in a towel, her hair damp and wild, eyes wide and waiting.

“I cant open the conditioner bottle,” Andrea said dramatically, as if she had endured great injustice.

She helped Andrea shower and wrapped her in a soft towel. Andrea wiggled impatiently, hopping from one foot to the other. “Can I go now?”

“Go get your clothes,” Carina said, releasing her with a playful tap on the nose. “And no running around the house like that.”

Andrea giggled and dashed away.

Carina rolled out after her and paused as she saw Maya, sitting up slowly in bed, one hand against her forehead.

Andrea noticed, too, and her eyes lit up. “Mommy!” she squealed, forgetting entirely that she was still wrapped in nothing but a towel.

Carina followed, slower, and found Andrea already perched at the edge of the bed, chatting animatedly.

“…and we made mud volcanos, and then Jess had cookies but Liam dropped his and said it was a ‘sacrifice to the grass gods,’ and then we watched a show and Mamma said we can’t have pets but you’re back in this room now, right? Right?”

Maya blinked, still groggy, trying to make sense of the verbal hurricane her daughter had just unleashed. Her eyes shifted past Andrea to Carina, who had stopped just inside the room.

Carina cleared her throat gently. “Bambina, why don’t you go get dressed now?” she said, not unkindly.

Andrea pouted. “But….

“Now, tesoro,” Carina said with a smile that brokered no debate.

Andrea sighed deeply, flopping off the bed with the weight of all denied curiosity. “Fine.” She stomped toward the hall. “But I’m asking again after dinner.”

When the room was quiet again, Carina turned her attention to Maya.

“Hey,” she said softly, moving closer to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Maya leaned back against the pillows, her voice hoarse but warm. “Like I got hit by a truck made of bricks and regret.”

Carina gave a low laugh, then reached out and gently touched Maya’s wrist, checking the fever by feel. It had gone down. Her skin was warm, but no longer burning.

“You look better,” Carina said. “Want some tea?” Carina offered softly, her voice still touched with the tenderness of earlier moments. “I’ve got chamomile, ginger, or that weird sleepy blend Ana left behind that smells like soil and regret.”

Maya chuckled, rubbing her temple. “I can get up. I feel a little better. I should move around before I turn into one of the pillows.”

They made their way down the hallway together, Carina gliding just a step ahead in her chair, Maya walking with a cautious slowness she didn’t bother hiding.

As they reached the kitchen, Carina glanced over. “By the way,” she said casually, “I met Jess. You know, the mom from down the street? The one with the kids called me about she said pulling out two mugs and setting them on the counter. “She’s great, honestly. Grounded. Smart.

Maya raised an eyebrow. “You sound like you want to be her best friend.”

Carina gave a mock sigh. “Actually, I was thinking she looks closer to your age. Maybe you should be the one befriending her.”

Maya let out a laugh, rolling her eyes. “What does that mean?”

Carina shrugged with a mischievous grin. “It means she probably still uses words like ‘vibe check’ unironically, and I’m too European for that nonsense.”

They were still mid-chat when Liam appeared at the top of the stairs, towel slung over his shoulder, damp hair sticking up in every direction.

He stopped.

Looked at them.

Then narrowed his eyes like a miniature detective catching a clue.

“And you two are hanging out in the same room?” he added, eyebrows raised, full of an almost ten-year-old drama.

Carina tried to keep a straight face. “We’re making tea, not eloping, Liam.”

Liam squinted. “Mm-hmm.”

Then, without another word, he gave them the classic kid “I’m watching you” eye gesture two fingers from his eyes, then pointed at them and walked past, muttering, “I’m telling Zia.”

The kettle hissed softly as the tea steeped between them, the warmth filling the quiet kitchen like a fragile thread pulling two people slowly, cautiously, back into each other’s orbit.

Maya sat at the table, her fingers curled around her mug but not drinking, her energy clearly drained again. Her skin had regained some color, but the fatigue still clung to her in the way she held her shoulders heavier than usual, even in rest.

she let her head drop gently onto the cool surface of the table, cheek resting against her forearm.

Carina watched from across the table, cradling her own mug in her lap.

Maya’s voice came out low, muffled by the wood. “Do you ever… think about going back? To medicine?”

Carina’s fingers stilled on the mug.

The question hung in the air like steam rising off the tea fragile, warm, and laced with something heavy underneath.

Carina didn’t answer.

She didn’t look away either. She simply sat, eyes fixed somewhere past Maya’s shoulder, as if the words themselves had built a wall between them again.

Maya lifted her head slightly, enough to look at her. Her expression was open, uncertain. “I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just… I wonder if you miss it.”

Carina’s jaw flexed, the only outward sign of what she was feeling. She looked down at her hands steady now, but once so confident, so sure in the sterile world of surgical lights and rushing codes.

It wasn’t that she didn’t miss it.

It was that she didn’t know if it still belonged to her.

“I don’t know,” she finally said, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

Maya nodded once, then rested her head back down on the table, saying nothing more.

The tea had long gone lukewarm when Liam reappeared, padding into the kitchen in socked feet, his hair dry now but no less chaotic. He rummaged noisily through the pantry, pulling out a pack of crackers and an apple like he was foraging for survival.

Maya lifted her head slowly from the table, blinking at the bright light. “Save some for the rest of the world, Liam,” she mumbled, her voice still hoarse with exhaustion.

He grinned, unapologetic, mouth already half full. “I’m almost 10. I need food.”

Maya shook her head with a faint smirk, then pushed back from the table and stood. “I’m going back to bed before I turn into one of those spooky Victorian women who faint in doorways.”

Carina chuckled softly. “I’ll come check on you in a bit.”

Maya nodded, her eyes meeting Carina’s for a fleeting, quiet moment. “Thank you,” she said, simply. And then she was gone soft footsteps disappearing down the hall, door clicking gently behind her.

Carina stared at the half-drunk cup of tea in front of her, but her thoughts were already drifting.

Maya’s question still echoed in her mind. Do you ever think about going back?

She did. More than she wanted to admit. Other times, it was just a dull ache. A ghost of the life she had once lived in crisp white coats, bustling hallways, and the sharp, clear purpose of saving lives.

But now, her life was slower. Quieter. Complicated in a way that medicine never prepared her for.

She looked down at her hands again. They weren’t broken. They were still hers.

The question wasn’t whether she could go back.

It was whether there was still a version of herself who wanted to.

And if so… what would it cost to become her again?

She sat in that stillness, letting the thoughts stir, unsure of where they would take her only knowing that something inside had started moving again.

The next morning, Maya was propped slightly against the pillows, her color better, her eyes clearer, but she hadn’t moved.

She was just watching her.

“Have you been staring at me this whole time?” Carina murmured, voice low and raspy with sleep.

Maya’s lips lifted in the smallest smile. “Maybe.”

That’s when the knock came at the front door sharp, quick, unmistakable.

Carina’s eyes widened. “Ana.”

She turned her chair in a rush, quickly grabbing her sweater from the armrest. “Dio mio, I’m late for PT. She’s going to kill me.”Carina stared. “Then why didn’t you wake me?”

Maya looked down, picking at a loose thread on the blanket. “Because I wanted to stay like this. Just a little longer. I didn’t want the day to start yet.” She hesitated, then looked up. “Because I don’t know if I’ll get to wake up beside you again.”

The words were quiet, simple and devastating.

Carina’s breath caught, not because she didn’t understand, but because she understood too well.

“Maya…”

Maya shook her head gently. “I know I shouldn’t have. But I just… I missed this. I missed you.” Her voice cracked. “Can you stay today? Just… don’t go anywhere. Just be here.”

And Carina stopped trying to get on her chair. You will wake up next to me again,” she whispered. “This isn’t the last time.”

Chapter Text

The house was quieter than it had been in weeks. Not the tense kind of quiet that followed an argument, not the fragile hush of holding your breath through pain but a warm, slow quiet, like a song played low in the background of an afternoon that never asked to be hurried.

Carina had stayed.

Ana had smiled gently when Carina opened the door, her hair still tousled, her voice still sleep-worn.

“Taking a personal day?” Ana had asked with a knowing look.

Carina had nodded. “A personal morning. And maybe the afternoon. We’ll see.”

Ana hadn’t questioned it. She simply told Carina to call if she needed anything and left with the same quiet grace she always carried.

Now, the house belonged only to the two of them.

Liam and Andrea had raced down the street already absorbed in whatever wild adventure Jess’s backyard had turned into. Something involving water balloons and a mission to Mars, according to Andrea’s breathless explanation. Carina had let them go with only one reminder to please not lick any animals.

They hadn’t looked back.

And inside the house, time moved differently.

Maya had drifted in and out of sleep, her body still recovering, but her presence softer now. She didn’t try to fill the space with noise or conversation. She didn’t need to.

Carina stayed in the room. Not hovering, not nursing, just being.

She read part of a book aloud when Maya asked, her voice lilting over the words as Maya closed her eyes and listened. She made lunch, simple and warm brothy soup and toasted bread, the kind of meal that filled you up without demanding much of you.

They ate on the bed, legs stretched out beside each other, brushing but not tangled.

For hours, they simply existed in the same space no tension, no expectations.

And in the middle of everything grief, recovery, change sometimes a single day of stillness was the most profound thing of all.

The day had settled over the neighborhood with a soft golden hush, the kind of late-spring light that made the trees glow and stretched shadows across the living room floor.

Carina had just set down the mugs from their second round of tea, her and Maya now sharing the bed like an island of calm, when the knock came.

Not a soft, tentative knock no. This was a firm, official knock.

Maya’s brows knit as she sat up straighter. “That can’t be Jess with your children,” she muttered.

Carina rolled toward the door. “Maybe Ana forgot something.”

But the moment she opened it, that theory died instantly.

Standing in the doorway was a tall, broad-shouldered young man in uniform dark navy with crisp, clean lines and the unmistakable red insignia on his chest. His expression was polite, formal, but his eyes twitched with restrained amusement.

Behind him stood Liam and Andrea. Liam looked sheepish. Andrea looked… thrilled.

“Captain Bishop?” the man said, nodding toward Maya, who had stood and stepped cautiously into view.

Maya blinked, caught completely off guard. “Yes?”

He straightened, offering a respectful smile. “Captain Will Reyes. Station 25. I believe these two belong to you.”

Carina’s heart jumped as her eyes darted between the kids and the uniform. “What happened?”

Captain Reyes cleared his throat, clearly holding back a laugh. “Well… your son and his friend decided to try and make a ‘campfire. Nothing serious some dry leaves, a few twigs. They used a magnifying glass and some… inventive storytelling.”

Maya groaned under her breath. “Oh my God. “Maya’s face turned red not from embarrassment, but from the half-laugh she let out in disbelief.

Andrea stepped forward, clutching Liam’s hand. “It was almost a real fire. And I remembered what you said, Mommy. You said to call if there’s smoke.” So we helped call the department.

Maya dropped her head into her hand. “I meant smoke in the house, . Not smoke you and your best friend create on purpose.”

“Take care, Captain,” Reyes said, nodding once more at Maya before heading back to his truck.

As soon as the door closed, Maya turned slowly to Liam. “What part of ‘don’t do anything dangerous’ translated into building a fire?”

Liam’s eyes widened. “I thought it’d be okay! I said you’re a firefighter. I thought you’d be proud.”

“Couch. Both of you. Now.”

Liam sighed with the weight of a thousand injustices, dragging his feet toward the living room. Andrea followed, quiet but clearly still enchanted by the fire truck and her brief career as an honorary siren-pusher.

Carina backed away slightly, arms folded, watching from the edge of the hallway, letting Maya take the lead.

Maya paced once in front of the couch, then stood still, arms crossed. “Do you two understand how dangerous that was?”

Liam opened his mouth. Maya raised a finger. “Do not start with ‘but.’ There is no but when fire is involved.”

Liam’s mouth snapped shut.

She waited. One breath. Two.

Then Liam, sitting up straighter with an expression that straddled guilt and righteous determination, finally spoke.

“ Jamie didn’t believe you were a firefighter,” he said, his voice defensive. “He said no mom was really a fire captain. So… we had to prove it.”

Maya blinked. “Prove it how?”

Liam shrugged. “We figured… if there was a fire… and we called the fire department… you’d come.”

Carina let out a stunned breath, covering her mouth with her hand.

Maya, however, looked like she had just aged five years in thirty seconds.

“You started a fire on purpose because you wanted to show off?”

Liam shrank a little under her stare. “We didn’t think it would really catch. We just… needed it to be big enough to call.”

Andrea added helpfully, “We made sure it wasn’t near any pets.”

Carina choked out a quiet sound that might have been a laugh or a cry. She wasn’t sure anymore.

Maya took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a beat. “Okay,” she said finally, voice low but controlled. “First, you’re grounded. Both of you. No backyard play for a week. No screens.”

“What?!” Liam whined. But ?

Maya shot him a look. “I’m not done.”

Liam sank back into the couch.

“Second,” she continued, “we’re going to talk about what it means to be safe. And respectful. And what it means when people put their lives on the line for real emergencies. Starting fires to test that is not brave. It’s not smart. It’s dangerous.”

Andrea nodded solemnly. “But the siren was still cool.”

Carina pinched the bridge of her nose.

Maya turned to Carina, clearly holding back a scream. “I need a nap, a drink, and possibly a training video about common sense.”

Carina smiled gently, pushing her chair forward. “How about we start with showers?”

Maya sighed. “Fair.”

She looked back at the kids. “You’re lucky no one got hurt. Now move. Upstairs. Shower. And do not test the smoke alarms while you’re up there.”

Maya slumped onto the couch, staring at the ceiling.

Carina grinned. “Welcome to another day of parenthood, Captain.”

The sound of feet thumping down the stairs broke the calm in the living room as Liam and Andrea, now clean and wrapped in oversized clothes, appeared at the bottom step. Their hair was still damp, Andrea’s curls sticking out wildly in every direction while Liam’s looked like he’d air-dried while running laps.

They spotted Carina reclined on her adapted couch the one she rarely used unless she was truly tired. It allowed her to lean back comfortably, her legs elevated, a soft blanket draped over her. The soft light of the lamp beside her gave the room a cozy glow.

Andrea padded over and plopped down beside her, gently leaning her head on Carina’s arm. Liam hovered by the armrest, looking uncertain.

Carina glanced at both of them and nodded toward the kitchen. “Go get a snack. Something nonflammable, please.”

Andrea giggled and ran off, but Liam lingered, fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Mamma?” he asked softly. “Is Mum still… mad?”

Carina turned her head toward him, her eyes calm but serious. “Yes,” she said honestly. “She’s still upset. What you two did was dangerous. You scared people. You lied, and you used an emergency number for something that wasn’t an emergency. That’s not okay, Liam.”

Liam looked down at the floor, nodding quietly.

Carina reached over and took his hand, her grip gentle but firm. “Your Mother isn’t just a firefighter, Liam. She’s someone who’s seen what real fires do to people. You wanted to prove something about her, but you could have gotten someone hurt.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Liam mumbled.

“I know,” Carina said. “But that doesn’t make it right.”

Andrea returned with crackers and a juice box, climbing back onto the couch, munching quietly.

“You’re both going to apologize to her,” Carina said, looking between them. “Not just because you’re in trouble but because she deserves to hear it. You scared her. And she loves you more than anything.”

Liam nodded again, more slowly this time. “Okay,” he whispered.

Andrea leaned over and whispered to Liam, “We’ll tell her we’re sorry. Then maybe we can make her a card or something.”

Carina let herself smile a little, brushing Andrea’s curls back gently. A card might help., the gentle hum of a closing door followed by light footsteps signaled Maya’s return. She stepped into the living room, now dressed in clean clothes, hair still slightly damp from a quick rinse, and with a look that was a mix of relief and weariness.

The kids both sat up straighter on instinct.

Carina raised an eyebrow at Maya, silently asking how it went.

Maya gave a soft smile. “It went well. Jess was on her porch waiting with a glass of wine and that ‘my kids are alive, so it’s fine’ look.” She turned to Liam and Andrea. “She told me what happened. I apologized for the panic… and she apologized too for not keeping a closer eye on things, and letting her kid manipulate my kid l.

Liam looked sheepish again. Andrea quietly offered her juice box to Maya in a weird peace offering. Maya took it with a chuckle and set it on the table.

“Anyway,” Maya continued, flopping gently into the armchair across from Carina, “we talked. And laughed. And made a deal.”

Carina raised an eyebrow. “What kind of deal?”

“She and her husband are coming over next week,” Maya said, looking between the kids. “Dinner. Us, them, their chaos twins. Family night.”

Liam’s eyes widened. “With everyone?”

“Yes,” Maya said, nodding slowly, deliberately. “Everyone. But you two are going to be on your best behavior. No experiments. No sirens. No surprise smoke.” She gave them both a look that left no room for misinterpretation.

Andrea raised her hand. “Can we make dessert?”

Maya exchanged a glance with Carina, and Carina smirked. “Only if you don’t try to flambé it.”

Liam groaned and flopped onto the floor dramatically. “You’re never gonna let that go.”

Maya smiled faintly. “No. I’m really not.”

Carina let out a soft laugh, watching Maya settle in, the stress of the day starting to melt from her shoulders.

And in that moment with snacks half-eaten, Maya at ease, the kids sprawled in comfort it felt like something was being restored. Not perfectly. Not all at once.

But little by little, space was being made for joy again. For family. For them.

The couch creaked slightly as Maya shifted, settling into the cushions with a sigh that seemed to release everything she’d been holding in all day. Her body relaxed in pieces first her shoulders, then her jaw, then her clenched fists resting in her lap.

Carina watched her from her reclining spot on the adapted couch, chin resting on her hand, eyes quietly tracing every softened line on Maya’s face.

“You okay?” she asked gently, breaking the quiet.

Maya let out a soft groan, not in pain, just… overwhelmed. “I need a drink. Maybe two. Maybe something straight from the bottle.”

Carina chuckled, the sound warm and rich. “Well, I don’t think the bambini’ juice boxes are strong enough for that.”

Maya smiled faintly, then turned her head toward her. “I just want to not be responsible for one night. You know? No fires, no lectures, no feelings.”

Carina tilted her head. “So what you’re saying is… you want to be irresponsible with me?”

Maya laughed really laughed this time. I mean, if you’re offering, it’s been a while.

Carina sat up a little more, her tone light, but something in her eyes serious beneath the teasing. “How about I take you out for that drink?”

Maya blinked, surprised. “You mean like… out-out?”

Carina nodded. A pause. “I think we could use one of those.” I know a place

Maya’s smile wavered slightly not out of hesitation, but because she hadn’t expected it. Not from Carina. Not now. And definitely not in the middle of the quiet chaos they were learning to live through.

But it felt… right.

“You’re asking me out?” Maya said, lips twitching into a smirk.

Carina shrugged. “It’s a gamble. I hear you’re a handful.”

Maya let out a slow breath, the tension in her body easing even more. “Okay,” she said softly. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

And just like that, in the middle of a quiet house with crackers still on the table and the distant murmur of Tv in the background, something shifted again. Not backward. Not forward.

Chapter Text

Maya Bishop’s voice carried through the station like thunder on a clear day. Her office door was open unfortunately for the fresh-faced probie standing at full attention in the doorway, shoulders drawn so tightly they might snap.

“You don’t ever take a ladder off the truck without checking the footing first!” Maya barked, slamming a folder down on her desk for emphasis. “Do you want to be responsible for someone’s broken spine? Or maybe their funeral?”

“N-no, ma’am,” the probie stammered, eyes wide.

Maya glared at him, eyes blazing. “Then think. This is not a playground, it’s a fire ground. I don’t care how new you are, you get people killed by being careless. Dismissed.”

The probie gave a nervous nod, spun on his heel, and all but sprinted down the hallway.

“I’d almost forgotten what you sound like when you’re terrifying,” came a cool, composed voice from the doorway.

Maya looked up sharply, the tension still burning in her jaw, until her eyes landed on Andy.

Maya stood instinctively, posture straightening, professional out of habit. “Chief.”

Andy raised a brow. “Really, Maya?”

Maya sighed and dropped back into her chair. “You could’ve said something before I torched the poor kid.”

Andy stepped inside and closed the door behind her, arms crossed but a small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I figured I’d wait until you were done breathing actual fire.”

Maya leaned back in her chair, exhaling through her nose. “He almost dropped a ladder. In front of a gas line. I’m allowed to breathe fire when someone nearly turns my shift into a crater.”

Andy walked over and perched against the edge of Maya’s desk. “You are. But I didn’t come here to talk about probies.”

Maya’s eyes narrowed. “So this is business?”

Andy nodded once. “Yeah. And it’s… big.”

Something shifted in Maya’s demeanor her spine straightening again, the flicker of caution passing over her face. She’d known Andy long enough to read that tone, and whatever was coming wasn’t a casual memo.

“Go on,” Maya said.

Andy didn’t waste time. “There’s going to be a shakeup. District-wide.” Her voice was low, measured. “They’re restructuring leadership, consolidating commands. And I put your name forward.

Maya blinked, stunned for half a second. “You what?”

Andy gave her a steady look. “You’re one of the sharpest tactical minds we’ve got, Maya. You don’t just lead well you fight for your team. You’ve rebuilt Station 19 from the inside out. It’s time people at the top saw that.”

Maya’s eyes stayed fixed on Andy, her breath caught somewhere between pride and panic. The office, once loud and burning with her frustration, had gone unnervingly still.

Andy didn’t let the silence stretch for long.

Maya’s brows knit, the fire in her now flickering with uncertainty. “You think they’d make me a Chief?” she said, half-incredulous, after i turned it down twice.

Andy nodded. “I know they’re considering it. I put your name forward because I believe in you, but this is real. It’s happening fast. You might be asked to choose.”

Maya leaned forward, hands braced on her desk. “Choose between what. exactly?”

Andy’s face softened. “Between staying at Station 19 and leading the team you built… or stepping up, you don’t have to live in the past anymore.

Maya’s breath caught again, her heartbeat ticking faster. The idea had lived quietly in her for years a distant ambition, a quiet daydream but hearing it spoken aloud, now, from Andy, made it real.

Too real.

Her gaze drifted past Andy, out the small window of her office. She could almost see the city laid out like a living thing, full of fire and smoke and second chances. Full of weight and consequences.

“I have a family,” she said finally. “I have Carina. The kids. I barely balance it all now.”

Andy didn’t push. She just nodded. “I know. And that’s why it’s your choice but, You don’t owe anyone the version of you that costs you everything.”

Maya looked down at her hands scarred, callused, strong.

She looked up at Andy, her voice hushed. “If I say yes… I’ll lose something. No matter what I choose.”

Andy nodded. “Probably.”

“But I’ll gain something, too.”

“Definitely.”

Maya sat back in her chair, the fire in her now tempered with thought. A crossroads had opened in front of her and for once, no one could walk it for her.

And maybe… that was the point.

________________________________

Maya came through the front door quietly, She had come home with one mission: to tell Carina. But that was proving harder than she’d thought.

They were still rebuilding. The closeness was coming back in small, careful steps quiet mornings, shared glances, the occasional late-night conversation that didn’t end in silence or sleep. But this this was bigger. It felt like a door she wasn’t sure she had the right to open yet.

As she stepped into the living room, she heard faint giggles mixed with Ana’s calm, instructional voice.

She found them gathered at the kitchen table Ana in scrubs, gently guiding Liam and Andrea as they explored a kid-friendly medical kit laid out in front of them. Andrea was wrapping Liam’s arm in a bandage, far too dramatically, while Liam pretended to faint with great flair.

“You’re supposed to be grounded,” Maya said, arching a brow with mock sternness.

Liam popped one eye open. Save me please…

Ana gave Maya a warm, knowing smile. “Figured a little anatomy wouldn’t hurt. And they haven’t burned anything down today.”

Andrea beamed. “I know where the spleen goes!”

Maya chuckled, shaking her head. “It’s always organs with you.

Then, her tone softened slightly as she leaned against the counter. “Where’s Carina?”

Ana finished wrapping a small roll of gauze. “She’s in the shower. Said she needed a few quiet minutes.”

Maya nodded, her throat tightening just a little she looked down the hall, heart thumping a little louder than before. She gave Ana a tight nod, muttered a quiet “thanks,” and made her way toward the bedroom.

The soft sound of water had stopped. The door was cracked just enough to let steam curl into the hallway, and Maya hesitated before raising her hand and knocking gently against the wood.

“Carina?” she called, voice low. “You decent?”

There was a pause. Then a familiar voice answered, warm and calm.

“Come in.”

Maya opened the door slowly and stepped inside. The bathroom door was open now.

Carina caught her reflection in the mirror and turned, wrapping the robe tighter around herself.

“You’re home early,” she said, eyes scanning Maya’s face. “Everything okay?

Maya stepped inside, closing the bedroom door gently behind her. Her hands were tucked in her jacket pockets, her expression unreadable, but her eyes were locked on Carina.

She lingered near the edge of the room, jacket still in her hands, shoes leaving faint marks on the soft rug. Her throat tightened, watching Carina from across the space damp curls tucked into the towel, skin flushed from the steam, the robe gathered loosely over her frame. Vulnerable. Beautiful. Still distant, somehow.

“I can wait outside,” Maya said gently, her voice quieter now, touched with hesitation. “Until you’re dressed. I don’t want to ” she faltered, “ invade your space.”

“No,” she said firmly, her Italian lilt a touch more deliberate than usual. “If you have something to say, Maya… you don’t need to wait .

She turned her chair and wheeled more closer toward the wide mirror and the counter designed just low enough for her to reach everything she needed. Maya hesitated, then followed.

Carina reached the mirror and began the practiced, methodical movements of her routine. Removing the towel from her hair. Dabbing gently at her face. Her eyes met her own reflection briefly sharp, tired, still fighting.

Maya stood a few feet behind, watching the mirror too. Watching Carina watch herself.

“Tell me,” Carina said softly, not turning around. “Whatever it is… just say it.”

Maya swallowed hard, her fingers curling around the hem of her jacket. “Andy came by today. She said I’ve been put forward for a leadership restructuring. City-level. They’re considering me for a seat on the board.”

Carina stilled, hands frozen mid-motion. She didn’t speak. She didn’t move.

Still, no reaction. Just the soft hum of the fan overhead. The room felt suspended in time.

“I wanted to tell you first,” Maya said. “Because I know what that kind of job means. And what it can do to… to us. And I know we’re not ” she took a breath, “ not all the way back yet.

Carina slowly lowered her hands to her lap. Her gaze stayed locked on the mirror.

“You think I’ll say don’t do it?” she said, her voice low, even.

Maya didn’t answer.

Carina turned slightly in her chair, not all the way toward Maya but enough to meet her eyes in the reflection.

The silence between them now was thick no longer tense, but fragile. The kind of silence that carried weight, a silence that knew how to hold truth.

Carina sat facing Maya fully now, her robe gathered carefully around her, her dark eyes focused and unblinking. The vulnerability on her face wasn’t a wound it was an offering.

“ what do you want,” she said softly. “Not what I want. Not what the kids need. Not what’s easier or safer.”

Maya looked down at her hands, knuckles pale from the way she was gripping her jacket. Her lips parted, but no words came out.

Carina waited, then added, gently but firmly, “Don’t think about anyone else. Just answer me. Do you want to be Chief, Maya?”

The question cut straight through the noise in Maya’s head.

Of course she’d thought about it. Of course she had dreamed of it maybe not out loud, not even recently, but in the quiet moments, the late nights when she felt like more than her pain, more than the fragments of what she’d broken.

Still, she said nothing.

Carina’s eyes softened. “I know about the last two offers,” she said, her voice calm. “The district position. The training post. Chief ..You turned them down.

Maya’s head lifted in surprise, shame flickering through her expression.

“I didn’t want to ” Maya started, then stopped.

“I didn’t ask why,” Carina said. “But I knew. I didn’t push. I told myself maybe it wasn’t the right time. Maybe you weren’t ready. But now?”

She leaned forward in her chair slightly, her tone unwavering. “I think you are. And I think the only reason you’re still hesitating… is me.”

Maya opened her mouth, but Carina raised a hand to stop her.

“I want you to decide for you Maya,” she said. “Because the truth is… I’m proud of the woman you’ve become. Of the leader. The mother. The wife even when it’s hard between us.”

Her voice trembled just slightly. “I won’t stop you. I never would.”

Maya swallowed hard, eyes glistening, caught between the pull of old guilt and the rush of new freedom.

“I was afraid,” she said finally, voice low and raw. “That if I took the next step… I’d lose everything else. That I’d lose you. “and if didn’t happen I’d lose myself.

Carina shook her head . You only get lost me by forgetting who you are.”

That’s when Maya cracked just a little. Her eyes shimmered, and her posture softened, jacket slipping from her fingers onto the bed.

For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t being asked to hold the world together. She was being asked what she wanted from it.

The moment the last of Carina’s words settled into the room, something inside her cracked wide open not with fear this time, but with release. With love. With the quiet, aching relief of finally being seen.

She dropped her jacket on the flow and stepped forward on instinct, dropping to her knees in front of Carina’s chair in one swift motion. Her arms wrapped tightly around her wife, face pressing into the familiar curve of her shoulder.

Carina tensed, just for a breath, startled but then she melted into the embrace, her arms slipping around Maya’s back, her hands curling softly at her spine.

Maya still didn’t speak. She didn’t have to.

Her body said it all how long she’d been carrying the weight alone, how much she’d needed permission to want something again, and how deeply she still needed Carina.

Carina pressed her cheek against Maya’s hair, breathing in the scent of home. Her lips curved into a tender, quiet smile.

“You deserve it, bambina,” she whispered.

Maya’s breath caught.

The word sank in deep, hitting a part of her she hadn’t realized was still starving for something so simple bambina. A name Carina hadn’t used in so long, not since before the accident, before the silence, before the walls they’d both built in the dark.

It wasn’t just a nickname. It was belonging.

Maya hugged her tighter, a soft sob escaping her lips quiet and full of gratitude. She didn’t pull away. Didn’t want to.

And Carina didn’t let her.

They stayed wrapped in each other for what felt like a long, breathless moment long enough for the world to fall away, for the weight between them to dissolve into something softer, something steady.

When Maya finally pulled back, her hands still resting on Carina’s arms, she searched her wife’s eyes, as if anchoring herself there.

Carina reached up and tucked a loose strand of Maya’s hair behind her ear, her touch gentle. “Are you happy?” she asked quietly, with no pressure, no condition just a deep, honest need to know.

Maya didn’t hesitate.

A small smile tugged at her lips, one that reached her eyes this time. “Very happy,” she whispered, her voice almost breaking from the truth of it.

Carina studied her for a moment longer, the corners of her mouth lifting into something so full of love it made Maya feel like she might float.

“Then go,” Carina said softly. “Shine your light, bella”

Maya’s heart swelled at the word. It had always been Carina’s word for her spoken in soft mornings, in laughter, in quiet moments when Maya forgot what she was worth. And now, here it was again, returned like a gift.

Carina leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, warm and slow. A blessing. A goodbye that wasn’t a parting.

Maya nodded, swallowing back the sudden burn in her throat.

She stood, lifted her jacket from the bed, and stepped toward the door. Just before slipping out, she turned and met Carina’s eyes once more.

Neither said a word.

They didn’t need to.

And then Maya left the room carrying her wife’s voice like armor, her love like a flame.

And for the first time in a long time, Maya Bishop walked forward not just as a firefighter, or a captain, or maybe even a future chief.

But as a woman who had finally come home to herself.

As Maya stepped into the living room, the sound of kids’ laughter and Ana’s calm, guiding voice still filled the space. The makeshift “medical clinic” had now turned into a paper-cutting disaster zone, with tongue depressors, cotton balls, and toy syringes scattered like confetti.

Andrea was applying a very aggressive Band-Aid to Ana’s arm while Liam narrated the dramatic fought with the couch. Ana gave Maya a half-defeated smile from across the table.

Maya clapped her hands sharply once just loud enough to cut through the chaos.

“Attention, tiny humans!”

Liam and Andrea both froze mid-game, heads snapping toward her like puppies trained to the sound of a treat bag.

Maya crossed her arms, a playful glint in her eyes. “I’m officially lifting your punishment.”

Liam gasped. “What?!”

“Just for today,” Maya said quickly, pointing a finger. “Don’t get too comfortable. Tomorrow, you’re grounded again. But right now, I’m very, very happy and I want to do something fun.”

Liam narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “Wait… are you in trouble?”

Maya laughed. “Nope. Just in a really good mood she walked over, dropped a kiss on each of their heads, and slung her jacket over the back of a chair. “Get your shoes. You’ve got five minutes. We’re going out, and you get to pick one thing you want. Just don’t say a horse, Andrea. Please.”

Andrea lit up, already halfway to the door. “We can go to the toy store?!”

“Anywhere but the fire department,” Maya muttered with a smile, then looked over her shoulder at Ana. “You’re off duty for the rest of the day, Nurse Ana.”

Ana stood with a mock salute.

Maya laughed, then looked toward the salute just once. And though she couldn’t see her, she could feel Carina in the house. In her chest. In the space around her.

Then she turned back to her kids, now breathless and halfway dressed.

“Let’s go,” she said. “My treat.”

To be continued..

Chapter Text

Maya stepped into the dim light of the entryway, arms loose at her sides, heart still humming from the joy of watching Andrea cradle her new toy kit like it was made of gold, and Liam dragging his new skate board set up the stairs, already too tired to finish a sentence.

They hadn’t even asked to tucked in . They’d just smiled and said, ”Best day ever,” and disappeared into the safety of their beds, not even noticing their Italian mother sleeping on the couch.

Carina was there.

Curled up on the adapted couch, still reclined slightly, a book resting on her lap, forgotten. Her chest rose and fell slowly, lips parted slightly in sleep. The blanket had slipped from her shoulder. Her hair, still faintly damp from the earlier shower, clung to her skin in gentle waves.

She didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to break the moment.

But she also didn’t want to leave her there not on the couch, not alone. Not tonight.

Carefully, gently, she leaned over, slipping one arm beneath Carina’s knees, the other across her back. It had been a while since she carried her like this back when it wasn’t about necessity but about love, about laughter, about pulling her up from the kitchen floor when she pretended to faint from “romantic exhaustion.”

Now, it was something else. Tender. Fragile. Reverent. Her body heavier and foreign.

Carina stirred slightly as Maya lifted her, her brows twitching. “Maya?”

“Shh,” Maya whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’ve got you.”

Carina didn’t resist. She let her head rest against Maya’s chest, her body soft with sleep, her trust total.

When they reached the bedroom, Maya carefully eased Carina down onto their bed, adjusting the pillows, pulling the blankets gently over her legs, brushing a curl from her forehead.

Maya knelt beside the bed for a moment longer, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, the calm on her face. She placed one last kiss on Carina’s hand, lingering there with her fingers entwined. She brushed a thumb lightly over Carina’s hand, then gently untangled their fingers.

She stood slowly, careful not to make a sound, and pulled the blanket up over Carina’s shoulders.

“I love you,” she whispered. Quiet. Just for the room. Just in case Carina could hear it, even in sleep.

And then Maya turned and left.

She paused just outside the bedroom door, one hand pressed to the frame, her heart tugging at her with every step she took away.

She wanted to stay.

God, she wanted to crawl into that bed, wrap her arms around Carina, and let herself believe that they were whole again. That everything had finally come full circle.

But they weren’t there yet. And part of healing was knowing when to give space not out of fear, but out of respect.

Maya walked quietly down the hall, back to the outer room the one that had become hers in the long weeks of silence and separate routines.

She slipped inside, shut the door behind her, and leaned against it for a moment, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

The bed was cold.The room was quiet.

Maya lay down, eyes open in the dark, facing the ceiling.

The image of Carina asleep, safe and calm, stayed with her.

And though she wasn’t in their bed, Maya let herself smile just a little.

By the time it was morning the sunlight had crept through the slats in the blinds by the time Carina opened her eyes.

She blinked slowly, disoriented at first, then realized where she was. (Their) bed. Not the couch. Not the space she had adjusted to out of necessity. The real bed. The soft mattress. The still-slightly-scented pillow on Maya’s side.

And she was alone.

She reached out instinctively, as if to find Maya’s hand. But the space beside her was already cool. Gone for her run, no doubt. Or already at work.

Carina let out a breath and sat up, brushing the sleep from her eyes.

Something felt… off.

Not bad. Not painful. Just missing.

She couldn’t quite place it until she wheeled herself toward the window and looked out into the driveway.

That’s when it hit her. She missed driving.

The feel of her hand on the wheel, the control, the freedom the ability to just go. No planning, no assistance, no limitations.

It was a small thing, but grief had never needed to be loud to be real.

She sat for a moment longer, staring at it, until the crash of cereal against the floor and the sound of Andrea yelling “he stole my spoon!” pulled her sharply back to reality.

Full house today, again she remembered. Ana was off. The kids were on break. Maya was probably at work. And it was just her.

She wheeled herself toward the kitchen, where a chaotic breakfast scene had erupted. Liam was trying to explain a made-up game involving cereal and gravity, while Andrea was talking non-stop about a dream where a dog flew a plane.

Carina poured juice, distributed toast, made sure no one lost a finger with the butter knife, and tried to listen.

But her mind kept drifting.

To the driveway.

To the missing feeling of motion.

To Maya, already out in the world moving.

“Mamma?” Andrea tugged at her arm, eyes wide. “Can we watch something? Just for a little while?”

Liam jumped in. “Yeah! Since Mum’s not here to remind us we’re grounded and stuff.”

Carina blinked, realizing they’d been talking and she’d only caught every other word.

She stared at the two of them sticky, giggling, her whole world. And for the first time in a while, she didn’t have the energy to fight them. Not today.

She sighed, wiping a crumb off the table, and said flatly, “Just don’t burn the house down.”

Liam and Andrea screamed in delight and sprinted toward the living room like they’d just won the lottery.

Carina rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, “Maya’s going to kill me.”

But the truth was…

Right now, she missed being behind the wheel. And she needed one small rebellion of her own.

With the sound of animated voices and chaotic laughter rising from the living room, Carina sat for a moment in the hallway, staring toward the garage door. The kids were fully distracted cereal bowls abandoned, cartoons humming, a pile of toys growing on the rug.

And she?

She was thinking about her keys.

About her car.

About the feeling of slipping into the driver’s seat, fingers curling around the wheel, the quiet power of being in control of where she went and when. Ana or Maya always stepped in. Always offering, always hovering. Not out of disrespect, but out of love.

Still it made her feel like she had been left behind. Like even that small piece of her life had been packed away, out of reach.

But not today.

Today, the house was full, but her silence had space.

She wheeled quietly to the door leading to the garage, heart pounding with the kind of anticipation she hadn’t felt in months. With a quick glance over her shoulder no kids in sight she opened the door.

The garage smelled the same: a mix of oil, concrete, and sun-warmed leather. And there it was. Her car. Low to the ground, sleek, glossy black, and far too posh for the average suburban school run. Maya had always called it the diva on wheels.

Carina rolled toward the hanging hooks where their keys lived. She reached up, stretching carefully, her fingers brushing the keyring. It took two tries, but she got it.

Her heart raced faster now.

Her hand trembled slightly as she wheeled herself up to the driver’s side. She reached for the door handle. It wasn’t easy low, awkward but she’d practiced this in therapy, Quietly. Secretly. With no one watching her to assist she did it all by herself.

The process was slow. Intentional. She braced herself with both arms, lifted from the chair, and carefully slid into the seat. Her legs followed next, one at a time, positioned just right. She reached across, collapsed the wheelchair with effort, and pulled it into the passenger side like it was something she’d been doing all along.

Breathing hard, sweat clinging to her neck, she sat back.

She closed the door. Put the key in the ignition. And just like that the car hummed to life beneath her. Her fingers tightened on the wheel. Her breath caught.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this feeling.

She didn’t go anywhere. Not yet. That wasn’t the point. Just sitting there, engine humming beneath her fingertips, wheels aligned with the horizon, she felt it:

The hum of the engine beneath her fingertips had been exhilarating at first.

Carina sat there, heart racing in her chest, every breath sharp and shaky but charged with a kind of triumph she hadn’t tasted in months. The car smelled like her old life: leather, perfume, determination. Her hands were firm on the wheel, knuckles white, her lips parted as she imagined what it would feel like to finally, finally ease down the driveway, windows down, free again.

So she moved.

She shifted the car into reverse, just to test. It rolled gently, perfectly. She exhaled. Then slowly back into drive.

Just a nudge.

Just a few feet.

The car jerked slightly, wheels responding faster than she expected. The vehicle rolled forward just a bit too quickly. She tapped the brake.

Nothing. She frowned, pressing again harder. Her heart lurched, her legs useless.

The car crept forward, now more than just a gentle roll. “No,” she whispered, frantic now. “No stop!”

She moved to shift it into neutral her hand shaking but fumbled. Her elbow knocked the gearstick, slipping it into reverse before she could register the motion. The car jolted again, jerking unpredictably, lurching forward again instead of back.

Her hands flew to the wheel. The chair on the passenger side rattled slightly as the car crept toward the garage door.

“Stop!” she cried again, her voice breaking into panic.

She slammed her hand against the steering wheel, slammed her palm into the dashboard. She tried the brake again, over and over, but nothing responded the way she’d trained for, the way she remembered.

The sound of the wheels groaning against the cement, the sickening sense of motion out of control her entire body froze. Her chest tightened like a vise.

The car didn’t slow.

And then

CRASH!

The garage door buckled under the force, the metal groaning, warping outward with a violent shudder as the car’s front end slammed into it.

Silence.

Carina gasped, the air punched out of her lungs. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably now, her heart hammering so hard she thought it might burst from her ribs.

For a moment, everything stood still.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Tears welled in her eyes not from pain, but from the raw terror of what just happened. Her body was stiff, locked in that awful half-second when everything inside screamed run, but her legs didn’t move.

Her palms slipped from the wheel as she dropped her hands into her lap, eyes wide, staring at the dented garage door ahead of her.

“No…” she whispered, brokenly. “No, no, no…”

The sense of defeat washed over her like cold water.

All she had wanted was to feel in control again.

And now?

She was sitting in a wreck she had caused alone, trembling, and terrified that maybe, just maybe… she wasn’t ready to move forward after all.

Maya had only come home to grab the folder she’d forgotten nothing more. She was in and out, still in uniform, her boots barely scuffing the floor as she moved through the house quickly, mind already halfway back at Station 19.

But then A sound.

Loud. Violent. Metal folding in on itself.

The kind of sound that made her freeze mid-step.

It came from the garage.

Her heart stopped. That better not be you Liam. She dropped everything.

Racing to the door since the garage was next to the outer room, her hands flung it open with the kind of force only adrenaline could deliver.

And what she saw ripped the air right out of her lungs.

The front of the car was crumpled against the garage door, wheels still.

But it wasn’t the wreck that made Maya feel like she was falling.

It was Carina.

Still in the driver’s seat.

Frozen.

Her face pale, eyes glassy and wild. Her chest heaved, but her breaths were shallow, jagged. Hands trembling, mouth open slightly, like she was trying to speak but couldn’t get the words to leave her throat.

“Carina!” Maya called out, rushing forward. “Carina, hey hey, it’s me, it’s okay, I’m here ”

No response. just that terrible, vacant stare. Panic fully consuming her, pinning her in place.

Maya yanked the passenger door open, crawled over the crumpled wheelchair, and reached across to remove the keys, killing the engine in one swift turn.

“Look at me,” she said gently, reaching for Carina’s hands. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re safe, baby.”

But Carina flinched at her touch. Her fingers didn’t curl around Maya’s.

She was somewhere else far away, locked inside that awful, suffocating moment.

Maya’s heart broke wide open.

“No, no, no,” she whispered, pushing the door open and moving around to her side. “I’ve got you, bambina. I’ve got you.”

With slow, careful movements, Maya unbuckled her, gently eased her out of the seat and into her arms. Carina’s body was rigid, her breath ragged against Maya’s neck, but she didn’t resist.

“I’ve got you,” Maya kept saying, like a mantra. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

She carried her back through the door, into the outer room the same room Maya had made her sanctuary when everything felt too broken to share.

She laid Carina down on the bed, sitting beside her, brushing damp curls from her forehead.

“Carina, listen to me. You’re okay. You didn’t hurt anyone. It’s just a car. It’s just metal. You’re here. You’re safe. I’m here.”

Carina’s trembling hadn’t stopped.

No matter how softly Maya whispered her name, no matter how many times she held her close, rocked her gently, breathed with her, nothing pulled her back from that dark, closed-off place.

Her eyes those beautiful, expressive eyes were still wide with panic, her muscles locked, her chest rising and falling too fast, too shallow.

Maya wiped the sweat from Carina’s forehead with the edge of the bedsheet, heart thudding so hard she could barely think. Every instinct in her screamed to fix it, now but she’d tried everything.

Words. Touch. Silence.

It wasn’t working.

And Carina was slipping. She stepped into the doorway, turned toward the hallway, and raised her voice controlled, but urgent.

“Liam!” she called. “Andrea!”

The sound of footsteps came fast confused, hesitant.

Liam appeared first, holding Andrea’s hand, both of them wide-eyed with worry. “What’s happening?” he asked. “Why was there a bang?”

Maya crouched low in front of them, her voice gentle but unshakably firm.

Maya turned to Liam, looking him straight in the eyes. “Liam. I need you to go into Mamma’s room. There’s a black medical bag in the closet, on the second shelf. Bring it to me. Do not open it, just bring it.”

Liam straightened a little, his face serious now. “Okay.” He took off down the hall like a kid on a mission.

Maya turned to Andrea and cupped her shoulder gently. “Sweetheart, can you bring a bottle of water? From the kitchen. And the blue cup, the one mama likes. Okay?”

Andrea sniffled and nodded. “Okay.”

As they ran off, Maya turned back into the room. Her hands trembled as she waited, torn between panic and determination.

Liam returned first, cradling the black medical bag in both arms like it was made of glass. His face was pale, his mouth set in a firm line, trying to be brave like Maya had asked but his eyes flicked nervously down the hall.

Andrea followed close behind, clutching a blue plastic cup and water, walking slowly, carefully, as if she knew that any sudden move could shatter the quiet.

Maya met them both at the door. She took the bag from Liam and set it on the dresser beside her. Then she crouched, placing a hand on each of their shoulders.

“You did great,” she said, her voice softer now, steadier than she felt. “Thank you.But for now, I need you both to wait in the living room okay?.

Andrea sniffled and nodded. Liam hesitated a moment longer, then pulled Andrea’s hand and led her away, glancing back only once before they turned the corner.

Maya waited until she heard the soft click of they were out of sight door before she turned back to Carina.

The room was still. The only sound was the raspy hitch of Carina’s breath, still trapped in the cage of her chest, her lashes fluttering like she was stuck somewhere between the now and something terrible.

Maya opened the medical bag with practiced fingers, her heart in her throat as she prepped the syringe with the precision of a firefighter, of a medic but now, she was none of those things. She was just a wife. A woman who had run out of other ways to bring the person she loved most back to her.

Carina was still slumped against the pillows, her breathing ragged, skin damp. Her body trembled beneath the blanket she hadn’t even noticed Maya pull over her. Her fingers curled weakly against the fabric, her whole being still trapped in the grip of a mind that wouldn’t let her go.

Maya set the bag down, her hands suddenly all muscle memory, moving with clinical focus. She slid the pulse oximeter onto Carina’s finger, gently eased the blood pressure cuff around her arm.

153/95.
Maya closed her eyes. Too high.

She gently adjusted Carina, helping her sit upright, careful to support her neck and back. The effort took everything from both of them Carina barely responsive, Maya fighting the urge to break down entirely.

“Okay, bambina,” she whispered, brushing damp curls from Carina’s forehead. “I need to give you something to help your body let go. You’re safe. You’re here with me.”

But Carina’s lips were now faintly blue. Her chest rose and fell like a metronome that had slipped into a tempo too fast to follow.

“I love you,” Maya said, voice cracking as she pressed the medication in. “I need you to rest now, okay? I need you to come back to me.”

The effect was almost immediate. Carina’s body began to loosen, the rigid tension in her jaw softening, her eyes flickering more slowly.

Maya stayed by her side, one hand still holding Carina’s, the other gently stroking her hair, counting the seconds in her head, watching the color come back to her lips.

As the breathing evened out, the numbers dropped.
132/85… 125/82…

Better.

Still too much. But better.

Carina’s head dipped softly to the side, her breath now deep and rhythmic.

Maya exhaled slowly and lowered her forehead to Carina’s shoulder, just for a moment. Not collapsing just grounding.

Then she sat up, wiped her face, and thought out loud., You really like to scare me Deluca.

Before Maya stepped out of the outer room, she made sure everything was how it should be.

She cracked the window slightly, letting in the soft morning air. The curtains danced gently in the breeze. She adjusted the fan so it turned steadily toward the bed, whispering cool air across Carina’s resting form. Then she dimmed the lights, leaving just enough glow for peace, but not enough to stir her.

She stood at the door for a long moment, watching. The rise and fall of Carina’s chest now calm. Her lips a soft pink again. Her hands still.

Only then did Maya leave the room, gently pulling the door until it clicked shut.

The living room was quiet too quiet for two kids who were normally bouncing off the walls.

When she walked in, Liam and Andrea were both sitting cross-legged on the rug, side by side, They looked up when they saw her, expressions cautious, eyes searching.

Maya gave them a soft smile. “You guys okay?”

Liam nodded slowly. Andrea blinked, then asked, “Is Mamma sleeping ?

“She is,” Maya said, settling onto the floor in front of them. “She was just feeling really, really overwhelmed. Her brain and body got confused and thought something bad was happening, even though it wasn’t.”

She reached into the black medical bag, unzipping it slowly, and laid out a few simple items: a stethoscope, the pulse oximeter, an unused syringe still capped, a digital thermometer, gauze pads, gloves. And basically everything in there.

Maya held up the stethoscope. “This? What’s this?”

“Stethoscope,” Andrea whispered. “You listen to hearts with it.”

“Right,” Maya said. “Because hearts tell us how scared someone is. Or how calm. Mamma’s heart was going very fast today. That’s how I knew she needed help.”

She picked up the pulse oximeter. “This one?”

“Oxy-meter,” Liam said, frowning. “Ox… something.”

“Oximeter,” Maya said gently. “It tells us how much oxygen is in your blood. How well you’re breathing.”

Maya smiled at her, setting the oximeter down. “You don’t have to be doctors. But I want you to know that when someone is scared or hurt, even small things like knowing where to find a glass of water or remembering to stay calm can help.”

Liam picked up the thermometer. “So this is like… superhero stuff. Just quieter.”

Maya laughed softly, heart tugging. “Exactly. Quiet superheroes.” “I didn’t like seeing you scared today.”

“But sometimes scary things happen. And they will happen a lot because your mamma’s body is different now. That courage doesn’t always come with sirens
Sometimes it comes with small hands, steady hearts, and staying close when things fall apart, and from what I know you’re the strongest kids in the world.

Andrea reached out first, her tiny finger hovering over a capped syringe. “What’s this one?” she asked, her voice careful.

Maya leaned forward, her tone soft. “That’s a syringe. We use it to give someone medicine when they can’t take it the usual way like when they’re too scared or sick to swallow a pill. But only grown-ups, or doctors, or Mamma use it, okay? It’s not for playing.”

Andrea nodded seriously and folded her hands in her lap.

Liam picked up the catheter this time . “I forget what this does.”

Maya smiled. Home work find out and come and tell me privately.

Liam pointed to a sealed alcohol pad. “This smells weird.”

Maya chuckled. “That’s alcohol. Not the kind in grown-up drinks this one’s for cleaning. It helps make sure there are no germs when you’re fixing a cut.”

Maya pulled them both close, kissing the top of their head. You helped Mamma today in the most important way by listening to mom’s intrusions. I love you .

Chapter Text

Carina woke. the light was different.

It wasn’t the hard glare of noon or the dim blue of early morning. It was soft and golden, the kind of light that filtered in just before late afternoon, bending gently through the curtains. Time had passed hours, maybe. She wasn’t sure how many. Her mind was still fogged around the edges, thick with the lingering weight of the sedative.

She blinked slowly. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, lips dry, jaw slightly sore from grinding in her sleep. Her body didn’t hurt exactly it just felt… far away. Disconnected.

Then she heard a chair creak.

She turned her head, sluggishly, and saw Maya sitting in the corner of the bedroom, legs tucked under her, arms crossed, watching.

“Hey,” Carina rasped.

Maya was up in two steps, crouching beside the bed. “Hi. You’re awake.”

Carina nodded slowly, regret already creeping in before she even remembered why.

I… I don’t remember all of it.

“You don’t need to,” Maya said softly. “You had a panic attack. It hit hard. You were spiraling and couldn’t breathe, so I gave you the sedative.”

“You couldn’t speak,” Maya said. “You were shaking. Crying. You were scared. I know you didn’t want it, but you needed to rest. I made the call.”

Carina nodded again, more of a twitch than a full motion. Her face crumpled a little, the tension creeping in from her eyes, her mouth, her shoulders. Her voice wobbled when she finally spoke.

“I’m so sorry.”

Maya reached for her hand. “Carina.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” she said again, harsher this time. “For all of this. For needing you like this. For being this version of me. I didn’t used to be this person this broken, fragile mess. I used to God, I used to help people. Now I can’t even help myself without scaring my kids and needing drugs to knock me out.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and her face collapsed into her hands. Her body shook with the sob she tried and failed to swallow.

Maya didn’t hesitate. She leaned forward, wrapping both arms around her, carefully but firmly, letting Carina bury her face against her shoulder. Her shirt grew damp within seconds.

Carina didn’t stop crying.

Even after the shaking slowed, even after her breath stopped hitching, the tears kept coming quiet now, but steady, falling into Maya’s shirt, soaking the fabric between them. Her fingers gripped the back of Maya’s sweater like an anchor.

Maya didn’t let go. She didn’t say anything either. Just held her and let the silence stretch, let the pain take its shape in the open.

Carina finally spoke, her voice rough and small, muffled against Maya’s shoulder.

“I’m trying.”

Maya gently ran her hand down Carina’s back. “I know you are.”

“I’m doing everything they tell me to do. Therapy. Breathing. Journaling. I even did that stupid grounding exercise where you list things in the room. And for, like, two minutes, I think it’s working. And then I’m right back in it. Like nothing sticks.”

Her voice cracked again. “I don’t want to feel like this.”

Maya’s eyes stung, but she held it together. For Carina. Always for her.

“I know,” she whispered. “I know, babe.”

Carina pulled back just enough to look at her. Her face was red, eyes swollen, nose running but none of that mattered. What mattered was the pure devastation in her expression, the way her voice was both furious and broken.

“I wake up and I already feel like I’m failing the day. Like something inside me is wired wrong and no matter what I do, I’m two seconds away from falling apart. And I hate it.

Maya brushed a damp curl off Carina’s forehead and held her gaze.

“This isn’t about willpower. You’re not weak. You’re not doing something wrong. Your brain is hurt, Carina. That’s what trauma is. It rewires things. Therapy isn’t a magic trick it’s a process. A long one.”

Carina’s body had started trembling again not the violent, sharp tremors of a panic attack, but a slow, creeping shiver from the inside out. Maya felt it first in her arms as she held her, then in Carina’s breath as it turned short and uneven again.

“Carina,” she said softly, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Breathe with me.”

Carina’s head hung low, curls falling over her face, her fingers gripping the blanket like she was bracing for impact.

Maya moved with practiced care, slipping one hand behind Carina’s shoulders and the other under her elbow. “Let’s sit you up a little, okay?”

Carina didn’t resist, but her movements were limp, reluctant. Maya eased her into a half-sitting position against the headboard, propping a pillow behind her back for support.

“Look at me,” Maya said gently, sitting on the edge of the bed now, close. “Right here. Just you and me. Come down with me.”

Carina blinked slowly, eyes glassy and dazed. Her chest rose too fast, too shallow.

“Bambina,” she whispered, her voice cracked and shaking. “Make it stop.”

Maya took her face in both hands, gently, grounding her with touch.

“You’re safe,” she said. “Right now, right here, you’re safe. Nothing’s happening. No one’s coming. Nothing’s wrong except the fear lying to you.”

Carina’s eyes locked on hers finally and a tear slipped down her cheek. “I can’t stop it.”

“You don’t have to stop it,” Maya said, her voice calm and low, like a soft hum. “You just have to let it move through you. Like a storm. You’ve been through worse and come back. You will come back from this too.”

Carina’s lower lip trembled. She let out a small, broken sound a sob too tired to rise.

Maya kissed her forehead, lingering there. “Breathe with me. In through your nose, slow. Right here.”

Carina’s breathing had started to even out. The shaking had dulled, the storm fading, leaving her flushed and hollow-eyed but present. Her head rested against the pillow now, but her gaze was fixed on Maya quiet, aching, apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again. The third time that day, maybe fourth. As if she needed to say it until it counted.

Maya brushed a strand of hair from her damp cheek and said nothing at first. Just held her eyes. Stayed with her.

Then, softly, “It’s going to take time.”

Carina blinked. “I know.”

“No,” Maya said gently, sitting beside her again, leaning close. “I mean real time. Not days. Not even weeks. Shepherd said it could take up to two years before things start to feel normal again. She was honest about that. This isn’t about pushing through. It’s about surviving through.”

Carina’s face crumpled again, her lips tightening as more tears welled.

“I know its hard,” Maya said, her voice tender but unwavering. “But every day you show up, every time you breathe through one of these moments, you’re getting somewhere. Even if it doesn’t feel like it. Even if it breaks you. It’s still forward.”

Maya rested her chin lightly on Carina’s head. For a while, she just held her there in silence. Do you remember when we lost the baby?

Carina didn’t move, but Maya felt the breath catch in her chest. She was listening.

“ we never talk about it,” Maya said. “Not because I forgot. I didn’t. I never will. But because it broke us, me in ways I didn’t know how to explain. And I thought if I didn’t say it out loud, I could just keep moving. Keep breathing. Keep functioning.”

She exhaled through her nose, steady and calm. “I remember lying on the bathroom floor afterward. I was bleeding and cramping and you were holding me and I just kept saying,

Carina shifted slightly, her hand brushing against Maya’s side.

“But we got through it. Not in a day. Not in a month. Slowly. With quiet mornings and small kindnesses and nights where we cried in the dark and held each other until the tears ran dry. We didn’t heal perfectly but we healed enough.”

Carina’s voice was almost a whisper. “You carried so much.”

“So did you,” Maya said. She leaned back just enough to look at her wife “We got through that,” Maya said. “We’ll get through this too.”

Carina closed her eyes. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. She just leaned into Maya’s hands as they cupped her face again, anchoring her there, in the present. In safety. In love.
_______________________________

Before she had kids, Maya ran. Not for exercise, not to train for anything just to breathe. Running was the only thing that ever shut off her mind. The pounding of her feet, the rhythm in her chest, the way the world narrowed to sidewalk and breath. It had been her release valve, especially when the world pressed in too hard.

Now, there was no running.

Now there were school lunches, and medication schedules, and IEP meetings. Now there were days when her knees ached from crouching so much, and she realized she hadn’t spoken to another adult in hours. When the panic came, it didn’t get outrun. It got swallowed. Sat with. Breathed through.

The house was loud again. Liam and Andrea were in the next room, their voices ricocheting off the walls. Some kind of game involving cardboard swords and dramatic yelling. Maya didn’t have the energy to intervene. Let them burn it off.

She sat in the wide hallway outside their bedrooms, back against the wall, knees up, arms folded across them. She stared at nothing in particular, just breathing. Behind her, the living room buzzed faintly with whatever kids’ show they’d left on earlier. Down the hall, their bedroom door remained closed. Carina was still asleep. Again.

Maya rubbed her palms together slowly, grounding herself. This new house it was everything they had wanted on paper. Wide halls. Ramps. Accessible kitchen. Room for the kids. A yard.

But it felt too big and too small at the same time. Empty corners, unopened boxes, blank walls. Too much space for Maya to feel alone in, and not enough space to hold everything she carried.

She pulled her phone from the side pocket of her sweater, unlocked it, and scrolled through her recent calls. Her finger hovered, then tapped.

Andy picked up after the second ring. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” Maya said. Then, quieter, “No.”

A pause.

“I just…” she sighed. “I need to get out of the town for a bit. Just to breathe. I was thinking of taking a look at Orogen.

A pause.

“You’re serious?” Andy asked carefully, the way someone does when they’re not sure if they’re supposed to be excited or worried.

Maya’s voice stayed even. “I think I need to at least consider it. All of it. Not just for me. For us.”

“For you and Carina?”

“For the family,” Maya said. Her eyes stung a little, but her voice stayed calm. “I’m taking them with me.”

She didn’t offer details. There weren’t any yet. Just a vague outline. A possibility. Something with shape but no edges.

Andy didn’t press. “Okay,” she said. “I’m on my way home. We’ll talk more when I get home.”

“Thanks,” Maya said, almost a whisper.

Chapter Text

Carina had been a paraplegic for nearly five months.

Five months of learning to dress differently, to sit differently, to enter rooms she used to walk through without thought. Five months of trying to feel whole again in a body that no longer moved the way it used to, of waking up and needing help to reach the bathroom, of smiling for the kids while fighting tears behind closed doors. Five months that felt like forever.

Now, she was strapped into the front seat of Maya’s Jeep, with her legs still and carefully positioned, a blanket tucked over them even though it wasn’t cold. Andrea was curled up in the back seat with her headphones on and a book in her lap, while Liam hummed quietly next to her, occasionally rattling off facts about Oregon and black bears and the world’s biggest tree stump.

But Carina barely heard him.

She’d been silent for the past hour. Not because she didn’t want to talk, but because her heart was doing that thing again fluttering like a bird trapped behind her ribs. It had started somewhere after the third hour of the drive, when the roads turned narrower and the trees grew thicker and she realized they were truly getting farther and farther from home.

Farther from the rehab.
From her medical equipment.
From anything familiar.

She tried to focus on the rhythm of Maya’s driving instead steady hands on the wheel, tapping lightly to a playlist that hummed low through the speakers. Maya’s profile was calm, her jaw relaxed, sunglasses perched on her nose, a soft curve at the corner of her lips whenever she caught sight of a deer or pointed out something for the kids. She looked… at peace.

Her grip on the steering wheel was tight knuckles pale, the muscles in her forearm visibly flexed every time she maneuvered a turn. She wasn’t just driving. She was commanding the road. Pushing through it like it had wronged her. Her spine was straight, shoulders squared.

Every now and then, her eyes flicked between the mirrors Liam, Andrea, the horizon ahead, then Carina.

She could feel her wife watching her, breathing unevenly, shifting the blanket over her legs again. Maya didn’t miss the way Carina’s jaw clenched in rhythm with the bumpy road, or the way her fingers nervously adjusted the vent air toward her face, then away again.

And then came the voice gentle, foreign with anxiety.

“Maya,” Carina said, breaking the silence between a Joni Mitchell song and the rustle of tree leaves brushing past the windows.

Maya’s eyes flicked to her for half a second, her tone steady. “Yeah?”

“How far until the next stop?”

There it was.

Maya’s hand instinctively flexed on the gear, like she could absorb the storm brewing beside her through muscle alone.

“Twenty minutes. Maybe less,” she said calmly, eyes still locked on the road. “You okay?”

There was a pause.

“I think so,” Carina said quietly, but Maya could hear it in her tone that wavering, the paper-thin edge of composure.

Maya pressed her foot down slightly and tightened her grip again. Not to speed. Just to stay in control.

Because that’s what she had to be now. She couldn’t lose it. Not when the woman next to her was unraveling. Not when the kids were in the back seat, trusting her to make the world feel safe.

She stole a glance at Carina her wife’s face pale, eyes on the road ahead, lips twitching as if to keep herself from crying or speaking again.

Maya reached out without thinking, her right hand slipping over Carina’s where it rested on her lap. She squeezed gently. Her voice softened.

“Almost there.”

Carina blinked quickly, startled by how much weight those words carried.

“I’m here,” Maya continued, her voice low. “The road’s bumpy, the world’s unfamiliar, but I’m right here. And I promise, we’ll stop soon.”

There was no dramatic reply, no sudden fix but Carina leaned into her seat, eyes fluttering shut, just long enough to exhale. Just long enough to let Maya carry them all, if only for a while.

The Jeep came to a slow, dusty halt beside an old gas station just off the highway a lone, weathered building tucked between towering trees and timeworn signs. The canopy over the pumps buzzed faintly in the warm afternoon sun, and the quiet stillness of the place felt like an exhale after holding one’s breath too long.

Maya shifted the gear into park and killed the engine, her body finally still after hours of holding everything tight.

“We’re stopping here for gas,” she announced, voice light but tired. “Bathroom break. Anyone need to go?”

“I do!” Andrea unbuckled before Maya even finished the sentence.

“Me too,” Liam added, already halfway out the back seat with his jacket trailing behind him.

Maya turned back, eyebrows raised. “Shoes. Both of you. It’s not a sprint. Go inside together and stay where I can see you.”

She watched them until they disappeared into the building, the door chime jingling faintly as it swung closed. Then her focus shifted instinctively, immediately to the woman still beside her.

Maya stepped around the Jeep and opened the passenger door slowly.

“Hey,” she said softly, crouching to Carina’s level. “Time for a stretch?” Maya adjusted her legs, pulled her gently forward, and helped ease the pressure off her back. Her hands moved with quiet precision, massaging the edges of Carina’s thighs, gently loosening the tension she’d been holding in her hips and lower spine.

“Better?” Maya asked, brushing a loose curl behind Carina’s ear.

Carina exhaled slowly. “Yes… thank you.”

Without a word, Maya grabbed the chilled bottle of water she had tucked in the console earlier and twisted the cap off. She brought it to Carina’s lips, watching her take slow, steady sips. Then she reached into the bag by her feet and pulled out the soft container of food she’d packed fruit slices, crackers, little cheese cubes and placed it in Carina’s lap, careful to tuck a napkin beside it.

“All within reach,” Maya murmured.

Carina gave her a small, touched smile, tears pricking the corners of her eyes from the simple tenderness of it all. She didn’t say thank you this time. Maya could read it in her silence, in the way her body relaxed.

Maya brushed her hand gently across Carina’s cheek, letting it linger before she leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead soft, steady, and full of unspoken things.

By the time they finally pulled up the long gravel path that led to the secluded Oregon cabin, the sun was beginning to dip into the treetops. Golden light filtered through towering evergreens, and the sound of birdsong mixed with the distant hush of a nearby stream. The Jeep’s tires crunched to a slow stop in front of the wraparound porch, and Maya leaned forward against the steering wheel, letting out a long, deep breath.

They were here.

Six hours of tension, whispered reassurances, bathroom stops, forest roads, and silent endurance had finally led to this an old wooden cabin surrounded by nothing but trees, wind, and space to breathe.

And standing in front of the steps, arms folded and smile wide, was Jack Gibson.

“About time,” he said with a playful smirk, descending the steps two at a time. He was dressed in jeans, hiking boots, and a flannel shirt that looked like it had known a few campfires In its time. His beard was fuller, a little scruffy, but his presence? Still as solid as ever.

Maya opened the door and stepped out, stretching her spine before Jack pulled her into a bear hug.

“Jeez,” she groaned, voice muffled into his shoulder. “You’re going to break my ribs one day.”

Jack pulled back and grinned. “You say that every time and still walk away breathing.”

From the other side of the Jeep, Carina watched the exchange with quiet amusement, her lips curving faintly. Liam and Andrea were already unbuckling and climbing out with fresh excitement in their limbs, the long car ride forgotten the second their shoes hit forest ground.

“Uncle Jack!” Andrea called, rushing toward him.

“Hey, peanut,” Jack scooped her up with ease and swung her once before setting her down beside Liam. “Cabin’s stocked. Trail maps on the table. I even got that weird cereal Liam likes.”

Liam gasped, eyes wide. “The cinnamon marshmallow galaxy crunch?”

Jack winked. “With extra sugar.”

Maya rounded the Jeep, opening Carina’s door with careful hands. She crouched beside her wife again, brushing her thumb over the side of her thigh through the blanket.

“Hey,” she murmured. “We made it.”

Carina nodded slowly. Her body was stiff, aching in places she hadn’t known could ache. But her eyes lifted toward the trees, the soft breeze brushing her cheeks, and then toward the porch light Jack had already turned on just in case the sun dipped too fast.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “We did.”

Jack came over, offering his hand. “Let me help.”

Carina hesitated, her pride flickering behind her eyes, but she accepted it. Between him and Maya, they gently lifted her from the seat and into the chair Maya had already pulled out and set up. The wheels rolled gently over the cabin path, a soft creak of wood announcing their arrival onto the porch.

Inside, the cabin was warm and rustic stone fireplace, pine floors, windows that let in just enough light. It smelled faintly of cedar, cinnamon, and something Jack must’ve been simmering in the crockpot.

“I figured you’d be tired,” he said, placing a soft throw on the arm of the couch. “So I kept it simple. Blankets, firewood stacked, food, beds made. You can crash or roam or… just sit and do absolutely nothing.”

Maya leaned against the doorframe and gave him a tired but grateful smile. “You really didn’t have to go this far.”

Jack shrugged. “You’re family.”

Carina turned her head slowly, taking in the living room, the way Liam and Andrea were already claiming a corner with their bags and laughing over who got which bunk.

Her fingers tightened slightly on the wheelchair arms, overwhelmed not by the distance anymore but by the space. The openness. The care.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice soft but sincere.

Jack nodded once, quiet for a second. “You let me know what you need, Doc. I’m around.”

He left them, disappearing to grab more firewood, and Maya gently wheeled Carina toward the glass door overlooking the woods. They sat there in silence for a while, watching the kids run across the porch, hearing their laughter echo into the trees.

Carina turned to her wife.” I think… I could breathe here,” she whispered.

Maya slid an arm around her shoulder and leaned in close.

Jack stepped back onto the porch, wiping his hands on his jeans after stacking the last of the firewood. He gave the place one final look like a man leaving something precious in someone else’s care and then turned toward Maya, who stood just outside the doorway watching the sun finish its descent behind the tall trees.

He pulled the Jeep keys from his pocket and tossed them lightly to her. She caught them with ease, the weight of the day still sitting in her bones.

“I should leave now,” Jack said, adjusting the strap of the overnight bag slung across his shoulder. And I left beer and juice in the fridge. Don’t mix them.”

Maya smirked. “Thanks, Dad.”

Jack grinned, then stepped forward, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “You sure you’re good out here?”

She glanced over her shoulder at Carina, at the sound of Liam giggling in the back room, at the small universe she was trying so hard to hold together.

“We’re good,” she said firmly, then after a beat, added, “We need this.”

Jack nodded, something in his expression softening as he studied her how tired she looked, but also how fiercely she was still standing.

“I’ll come pick you up at eight,” he said, stepping back toward his truck.

As he made it to the door, he turned, his voice rising just enough to cut through the air like a grin.

“Nice seeing you, Bishop!”

Maya shook her head with a smirk, calling back, “Try not to miss me too much!”

Jack winked, gave a casual salute, and climbed into his truck. The engine rumbled to life, headlights cutting across the edge of the trees before he backed away and disappeared down the gravel path.

Maya crouched beside Carina again, resting a hand on the armrest of the wheelchair. Her eyes searched her wife’s face, which was flushed and weary beneath the dim cabin light. The long car ride, the tension in her back, and the anxiety she tried to mask it all sat there, right under her skin.

“You need a shower?” Maya asked gently, brushing a curl back behind Carina’s ear.

Carina let out a breath. “Yes. Definitely. But…” She glanced toward the hallway, where the bedroom was. No grab bars. No lowered bench. No railing or anti-slip anything. Just… a tub. “It’s not adapted,” she said softly, her voice edged with frustration. “I don’t know how it’s going to work.”

Maya nodded, like she’d expected this but had hoped the place would surprise her. She reached into the canvas bag near the entryway, rummaged through a few items, and pulled out a pack of foldable toilet seat covers.

“I brought these,” she said, then looked up at Carina, “but nothing else that would really help in the shower.

Carina arched a brow. “You packed cinnamon marshmallow cereal and three flashlights but not the shower chair?”

Maya gave her a sheepish smile. “In my defense, I was trying to pack for a family of four while calming down a six-hour-long panic cycle… I forgot a few things.”

Carina let out a soft laugh dry, but grateful. Then her expression softened. “It’s okay. I just… I feel disgusting. What if i fall?

“You won’t,” Maya said gently, her tone shifting to something deeper. Steadier. “I’ll help you.

There was a pause Carina’s throat worked as if she was swallowing something thick. Pride maybe. Or hesitation.

Then she nodded once. “Okay.”

Maya leaned in and kissed her forehead again, slower this time, and when she pulled back, Carina whispered, “Thank you.”

They moved carefully Maya wheeled her to the bathroom door, flicked on the light, and began prepping the space. She laid down two large towels on the floor to create a non-slip path.

“I’ll lift you in and hold you steady, then help with your hair,” Maya said quietly, her voice full of that calm she only seemed to find when her hands were full and her purpose was clear.

Carina watched her for a long moment, chest rising slowly with a breath. Her wife was still in her jeans, hair tied in a messy knot, sleeves rolled up like she was preparing to build something repair something.

Maya sat on the edge of the tub, one hand trailing through the water she’d just finished drawing. It was warm, not too hot just the way Carina liked it. She turned her head toward her wife, who was now perched at the edge of the makeshift stool they’d brought in from the hallway. Her face was flushed with heat and vulnerability, hands folded tightly in her lap.

Maya moved first, lifting the towel from Carina’s lap, her touch gentle. She crouched low, one arm sliding behind Carina’s back, the other beneath her knees. There was a pause Carina’s breath caught, eyes flicking up, silently asking if she was really ready.

“I’ve got you,” Maya repeated, kneeling beside her now, reaching for the shampoo. “Just lean back a little. I’ll do the rest.”

Carina obeyed, tilting her head as Maya cupped water in her hand and gently soaked her hair. Warm rivulets ran down the curve of Carina’s neck, into the water, disappearing into steam. Maya lathered the shampoo with her fingers, rubbing small circles into her scalp.

Carina closed her eyes.

For a moment, the entire world faded to the rhythmic movement of Maya’s fingers, the soft splash of water, and the feel of her breath brushing Carina’s temple. There was something healing in it not fixing, not pretending but being seen in the brokenness, and cared for anyway.

“I miss this,” Carina murmured.

Maya rinsed her hair slowly, gently tipping water over her scalp, letting it run like a quiet promise between them.

Without saying anything, Maya stood. She peeled off her clothes with quiet purpose, one layer at a time shirt, jeans, socks. Not hurried. Not for show. Just simplicity and shared space. She folded everything and set them on the bench by the wall.

Carina glanced over her shoulder when she heard the soft shift of water, her brows knitting in surprise. “Maya…”

“Shh.” Maya stepped in behind her, slowly lowering herself into the tub, careful not to splash. Her legs slid along either side of Carina’s body, her arms wrapping around her waist, anchoring her.

Carina didn’t move at first. She hesitated, her breath catching, shoulders stiff. Then like a string being gently unknotted she gave in. Let herself lean back. Let her head rest against Maya’s shoulder, her temple nestled against the side of Maya’s neck, breath warm against her skin.

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was thick with emotion, the kind of silence that holds you like a hand across the chest. Maya's arms tightened slightly, pulling Carina back more firmly against her.

Carina’s body trembled once not from cold, but from the sob she barely let escape. Maya felt it, held her tighter.

“I don’t know how to come back from this,” Carina admitted, voice cracking. “And I’m so afraid that you’ll get tired of waiting.”

Maya turned her slightly so she could look at her, so Carina could see every word she meant.

“I’m not waiting,” she said. “I’m with you. Through every inch of this. I didn’t marry just the woman in heels and perfect lipstick. I married the woman with her hair in knots and her strength in pieces. I married you. Every version.”

“Even if ,” she murmured, voice dry and warm, “you’ve pissed me off more times in the last four months than you have in our entire ten years together.”

Carina blinked, then let out a laugh low and shocked. “Scusa?”

Maya grinned, even as her chin settled gently on Carina’s shoulder. “I mean it. You’ve been stubborn. Moody. Paranoid. You keep pushing me away and then pulling me back like I’m some kind of yo-yo.”

Carina turned slightly, mock-offended, but her eyes glinted with affection. Madonna, you’re brave saying all that while I’m naked in your arms.”

Maya chuckled, then tilted her head, her voice gentler now. “But… I would’ve been worse, Carina. If this had happened to me, I would’ve shut down completely. Built walls you couldn’t break through. Burned everything to the ground just so I didn’t have to ask for help.”

Carina grew quiet again, her breath uneven. “Sometimes I feel like I did burn everything down.”

“You didn’t,” Maya said, tightening her arms around her. “You’re still here. We’re still here. And you’re trying. That matters more than you know.”

Carina turned her head, peering up at her with narrowed eyes and a teasing smirk. “Okay… who are you seeing? Which therapist has been feeding you all these wise words?”

Maya burst out laughing, genuine and full. The sound bounced against the cabin walls and rumbled in her chest.

“some therapist,” she said, wiping a wet curl from Carina’s cheek. “ And Just life. And a little bit of studying my wife.

Carina grinned despite herself, then gently brought their entwined hands to her lips. She kissed Maya’s knuckles, then let her cheek rest against them.

“I still don’t know how to do this,” she whispered.

“You don’t have to know how,” Maya said, kissing the back of Carina’s hand in return. “You just have to let me stay beside you while you figure it out.”

There was a long silence after that but not empty. It was filled with warmth. With fingers brushing water. With two hearts learning to beat next to each other again after months of dissonance.

And in that water cooling, still, honest they stayed.
Not healed.
But held.
Together.