October.

Rose and I went for a walk in early afternoon so she could practice using only her cane while walking. I held Ginger's leash with my left hand and Rose's arm with my right. The autumn was slowly setting in, the falls leaving the trees and the wind acting up. It was chilly. Ginger spent the whole walk turning around to see if Rose was still there, which didn't help to keep the pace. She had developed some anxiety since Rose's hospitalization, and she would start whining if she didn't see her around the house while I was there.

Rose's spirit was a lot better since she didn't have to use the wheelchair all the time. She still needed my help for some things but she was regaining her independence a little more every day. She was serious about all the exercises Adam was asking her to do at home. Her speech was almost a hundred percent back, even if she sometimes forgot words. Nothing that seemed abnormal.

I was back to working four days out of five instead of the two days I spent most of the summer working. Rose kept occupied with books, Netflix, crafts and entertaining our precious dog. She was also able to complete certain chores like laundry, dusting and washing the dishes so we had more quality time when we were together.

I decided to spend the rest of the afternoon decorating the front of the house for Halloween. Rose helped a little but she quickly went back in, cold and tired. She managed to bake an apple pie while I was out and the second I stepped in, I marveled at the smell of cinnamon and nutmeg.

I woke up in the middle of the night to an empty bed. There was no light in the bathroom so I knew Rose wasn't there. I waited for a few minutes to see if she'd come back but she didn't. I got up and walked out of the room. The house was pitch black and the only thing guiding me was the sound coming from the living room. I found Rose sitting on the sofa with Ginger on her lap, crying softly.

"Baby, are you okay?" I asked, sleepily.

She turned around quickly to see me and I walked around the couch to sit next to her. I reached for the Kleenex box and she took one tissue from it to wipe her nose.

"What is it?" I whispered, putting my hand on the back of her head and slowly bringing her closer.

"Is that okay if… I just want to cry," she stammered between her sobbing.

"Of course… Can I stay and hold you?"

She nodded and I hugged her close, her face against my chest. We stayed there for a long time, Rose crying and me, holding her and stroking her back.

"I think I'm broken," she finally whispered, her tears calming down.

"You're not. What makes you say that?" I asked.

I saw from the corner of my eye that she had been looking through the documents about adoption she threw at my face that one April morning. I sighed and brought her onto my lap, her face a few inches from mine. I put my hand on her cheek and asked her to look at me. She looked up into my eyes and I had to swallow the lump in my throat.

"One way or another, we're going to do this… I know it's difficult because I want this as much as you do. But right now, we need to take care of you before anything else," I said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and she nodded. "Did yo –" I interrupted myself. "Did you walk all the way here?" I asked since I couldn't see the wheelchair anywhere.

"Yes," she mumbled. "I used the cane. But now my legs are tired," she chuckled.

"I'll have to carry you, then," I said with a laugh, picking her up.

She wiped her eyes and wrapped her arms around my neck. We went back to bed and I tucked her in before realizing it was almost 4 a.m. and that I had to get up in three hours. I managed to sleep but barely. I couldn't help but think about everything Rose said. And what her recovery implied. The family we wanted would have to wait a little bit longer, no matter how much it broke our hearts.

The next week.

On Saturday night, Lauren and Andrew invited Rose and I for dinner at their house. When we arrived, around 4 o'clock, we were greeted by Oliver and Riley. They were respectively eight and five years old.

"Guys, why don't you go help your dad for a minute?" Lauren asked so we would have some space to actually get into the house.

"But, mommy…" Riley began.

"We'll be right in," I told her and it sent a huge smile to her face before she ran to the next room.

"Come on in," Lauren said. "I'll take that," she continued, taking the bag with the wine and dessert from my hand.

I stood behind Rose as she walked in. She still wasn't totally steady on her feet even though she had the cane. Lauren had warned the kids to be careful even if I assured her they didn't need the warning. They weren't usually being rough and uncontrollable when we came over. All they wanted was to play with us and enjoy our presence.

After dinner, we played Codenames with the kids and they asked us to tuck them in after their parents told them it was time to go to bed. Riley asked for Rose, as usual, and I got a little bit worried.

"Are you going to be okay to go upstairs?" I asked Rose, trying to ignore my real concern.

"I'm sure, I'll be fine," she assured me. "I can just hold on to the railing if I think it's necessary."

"Okay," I said, and even I heard the doubt in my tone.

"Hey, I'll be fine, alright?" she said again, and I realized she knew what I was truly worried about. "I tucked Riley in before."

"I know…"

She turned around before I could finish my sentence and followed Riley to her room, holding her hand. I swallowed at the sight and Oliver came running from the kitchen. I threw him over my shoulder and he laughed and we quickly went upstairs when I saw the reproaching look in Lauren's eyes.

"Your mom is scary," I joked to Oliver and he giggled.

I put him down once we were in his room and he walked over to his bed. I sat next to him and tucked him in.

"Will Auntie Rose get better?" he asked me.

"Her walking is improving a lot and I have no doubt that she'll be running in a couple of months," I answered.

"Why is she sad, then?" he said and I was dumbfounded. I had no idea her sorrow was so obvious.

"The accident changed a lot of things in our lives, and it's hard for her to accept those things."

"What things?" he asked, oblivious.

"Well for starters, we want to have a baby and it's harder than we thought it would be."

"You can have Riley if you want," he joked and I laughed.

"Good night, buddy," I said, kissing his forehead.

"Good night, Uncle Cal," he replied as I turned the light off.

I closed the door behind me and saw Rose coming out of Riley's room. She smiled softly at me and I saw what Oliver meant. We returned to the kitchen with our friends and spent the rest of the evening talking. We left around ten and the car ride was completely silent. My hand was on Rose's thigh and she looked through the window the entire ride home.

"I'm tired," she told me as I took her coat off her shoulders. "I think I'll go to sleep right away," she continued before yawning.

"Alright, baby. Good night," I said before kissing her softly.

"I love you," she said and I said it back.

The next morning, I woke up at seven and went to the kitchen to prepare coffee and cook breakfast. At eight, I went to the bedroom to see if Rose was awake. She wasn't. She had been sleeping for over ten hours. Ginger whined to get out of the room so I went back to the kitchen and she followed. I ate breakfast alone, reading the news on my tablet. I prepared Rose's plate and put it in the fridge before washing the pans and the rest of the dishes. I took Ginger out for a small walk around the block and came back around ten. Ginger laid in her spot next to the fireplace and I walked straight to the bedroom, concerned that I couldn't see Rose in the kitchen or living room. When I walked in, she was still in bed. I went to her side to make sure she was still breathing. I debated between waking her up or letting her sleep even though she had been sleeping for twelve hours.

"Hey," I whispered, stroking her shoulder gently. "Wake up, sleeping beauty."

She opened her eyes slightly but she closed them again right away.

"You've been asleep for the past 12 hours…"

"I'm tired," she simply said.

I rested the back of my hand on her forehead. No sign of fever. She didn't look cold nor did she seem to have other symptoms related to influenza or others viruses than ran around this time of year. I couldn't blame her for being tired since she worked so hard to make sure she would walk normally and on her own every day.

"I have a few errands to run," I whispered. "Call me if there's anything."

"Okay," she mumbled.

I kissed her head and she rolled around on her other side. I left the house, slightly worried, and made sure that my ringer was on. When I got home around one o'clock, Rose was in the living room, lying down on the sofa, still wearing her pajamas. The TV wasn't on, her phone was on the coffee table, and she was only cuddling with Ginger on the couch.

"Hi," she said faintly.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," I replied. "Did you eat breakfast?"

"No, I'm not hungry."

"Is everything okay?" I asked and she nodded, probably only to get rid of me and my questions.

She spent the rest of the day in her pajamas, barely doing anything. Later, as I was cooking dinner, she appeared in the kitchen. She had changed out of her pajamas but was still an ample t-shirt with yoga pants. She looked pale, more than usual.

"What are you making? I'm starving," she said.

"Spaghetti."

"Make plenty, please. This way I can…" she stopped talking, holding herself on the corner of the counter.

"Hey, hey, you alright?" I asked.

"I'm dizzy," she muttered.

Everything suddenly seemed to be in slow motion. She lost eye contact, passing out. I managed to act quickly and catch her in the fall, my heart hammering inside my chest.

"Rose!" I exclaimed, patting her cheek.

I reached for the sink and took a wet towel. She came around a few seconds later, confused. I helped her walk to the living room, holding her up so she wouldn't pass out again, and lay her down on her side on the couch. It was most likely a drop of tension. I went back to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of juice so she could swallow enough sugar to get back to her normal blood pressure.

"How are you feeling?" I asked her after a few minutes.

"I'm nauseous. But I think I'm just hungry."

"Just stay here until dinner's ready. And call me if you don't feel okay," I said and she nodded.

Ginger lay down at Rose's feet and I walked back to the kitchen to finish dinner. My heart was slowly recovering from the adrenaline. Everything that happened today seemed wrong and I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.