WILL

Lou settled beside me in bed, her body warm against mine. The low hum of the television filled the room, but I wasn't really watching. My thoughts were elsewhere—stuck on the conversation with my parents earlier today, stuck on the reality of their decision to finally end their marriage.

For years, I'd watched their relationship unravel, seen the way they tiptoed around each other, both too proud to admit that things had long since fallen apart. My injury only delayed the inevitable, and now that I was out of immediate danger, they had no more reason to keep up the pretense.

I should've felt something, I suppose—sadness, regret, anger—but all I felt was relief. Relief that the charade was over, that I wouldn't have to endure any more awkward family dinners or forced holiday cheer.

Lou shifted beside me, her body curling slightly as she reached for the remote to turn off the TV. The soft glow of the screen disappeared, leaving the room in darkness except for the faint light from the moon filtering through the curtains. I felt her hand brush against my chest, warm and gentle, a quiet presence that was both comforting and unnerving.

"Today was a long day," she murmured, her voice soft in the stillness of the night.

"Yeah," I replied, my thoughts still tangled in the weight of the day. "Could've been worse, I suppose."

"I'm sorry about your parents." She kissed my shoulder, and my skin tingled from the sensation of her lips. Once again, I was grateful for small blessings.

"Don't be. Their marriage hasn't been a real marriage in years."

She sat up. "But it's still sad. I'm sure they loved each other at one time."

I looked off to the side. "Maybe."

"You don't think so?"

I sighed. "Look, Clark, my parents aren't like yours. I didn't grow up with a noisy family full of birthday celebrations and cozy holidays with people who actually like each other."

"I wouldn't go that far."

"You don't know how lucky you were to grow up with those experiences. And I hate that you've been separated from your family all these weeks. They're important to you, and you're important to them."

"They'll come around."

"I know they will. They love you."

She stroked my cheek with her index finger. "And your parents love you in their own way. I saw how they were… before Switzerland. Maybe they'll try to work it out."

I tried to smile. She was so optimistic. It's one of the things I love about her.

We fell into another comfortable silence. Lou's hand moved over my chest, her fingers tracing small, idle patterns that sent an unfamiliar warmth through me. I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensation, trying to push away the thoughts that gnawed at the back of my mind. I didn't want to think about my parents anymore or their problems. Maybe they'll figure something out. Maybe they won't.

Either way, I had something else on my mind. Before my parents dropped by, I was occupied with rather pleasant thoughts about Lou. I didn't want to think about it, but no matter how much I tried, one image kept resurfacing—the shower.

It wasn't the first time Lou had helped me with personal care, but this time, it felt different. Even with the new level of intimacy between us, there was something charged that lingered in the air between us. The way her fingers had moved through my hair, how she had carefully washed me as if I were both strong and precious. It had been practical, necessary even, but there was a tenderness in her touch that stirred something inside me. I tried joking to ease the tension between us, but I'm still a man, damn it.

Despite everything that had happened, despite the fact that most of my body didn't work the way it should, I could still feel. I could still want. And at that moment, as the warm water cascaded over me and Lou's hands moved across my skin, I wanted her. Not just physically, though that was certainly there, but emotionally—completely.

But I couldn't give her that. Not the way she deserved. And it gutted me.

"Will?" Lou's voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. Her hand stilled on my chest, and I could feel her gaze on me, searching, waiting for something.

I opened my eyes, turning my head slightly to meet hers. She looked beautiful in the dim light, her hair tousled from the day, her eyes soft and full of concern. She was always concerned—always worried about me. I hated that.

"Yeah?" I replied, my voice rougher than I intended.

"You've been quiet," she said, her fingers resuming gentle patterns on my chest. "Are you still thinking about your parents?"

I sighed. "It's not that. I mean, it's not just that."

Lou shifted closer, her warmth seeping into me. "Then what is it?" she asked, her voice so full of genuine care that it almost hurt.

I swallowed hard, trying to find the words. How could I explain to her what I was feeling? How could I make her understand that the one thing I wanted—to be the man she deserved—was the one thing I could never give her?

"I keep thinking about the shower," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

Lou blinked, surprised. "The shower?"

"Today was just another reminder of what I can't give you."

Her eyes widened. "That doesn't matter to me. There's so many other ways we can—"

"I know, Clark!" I couldn't hide my frustration. "That doesn't mean I don't think about… that I don't want to make love to you. But it's more than sex. There have been so many times when all I've wanted to do was hold you, brush your hair away from your face... caress your cheek. I can't do any of that, and it pains me to know that I never will." I drew in an unsteady breath, forcing myself to say the words I hadn't been able to say until now.

"I can't expect you to live like this. It's not fair."

Lou shook her head, her hand still on my chest. "I remember you said this to me before. But nothing's changed, Will Traynor. I'm not a child. I know what I want. That's you just as you are."

"You don't—"

She placed her finger over my lips. "Yes, I do. None of that matters to me." She grew quiet for a minute. "You know what happened to me in that maze all those years ago… It changed me. I mean, I like sex well enough, but I'd rather have moments like this, the two of us lying in bed, just being around each other."

I heard the earnestness in Lou's voice, and I believed she meant every word. That night in the maze had changed her, but she was still a beautiful, vibrant woman full of desires and needs.

"That's a nice sentiment, Clark."

"But it's true!"

"I believe you. I enjoy all of these moments, too. But God, Clark, you don't know how much I want to touch you. It's so damn frustrating."

I stared at her from my position on my bed and watched her chew her lip.

"I want that too…" she admitted softly. "Maybe there are things we can do to, you know." She looked away, and I imagined her blushing in the dark. " I, uh, saw what happened. You got—"

"Yeah, that happens sometimes."

I thought about the utterly embarrassing attempts Alicia and I had tried back when I had hope that I could recover. Alicia had been so determined, so eager to make things work. But I couldn't. Physically, I still wasn't strong enough, and I couldn't make an erection last long enough for either of us to get any pleasure from it. That was part of the reason why I pushed her away. Like Lou, she deserves someone who could give her everything.

"So, that's a good thing," she said, and I couldn't ignore the hope in her voice.

"I don't know…"

Her fingers brushed over my cheek, tender and reassuring. "Will, You have given me more than you think," she murmured, lips pressing softly against my forehead. "We don't have to rush anything. If it bothers you for me to help you in the shower, I don't have to anymore."

The thought made me immediately despondent. "I didn't say all that," I muttered.

She laughed softly. "Okay. We'll take it slow. And when we both feel comfortable, we can look at our options. I can put my new research skills to work."

I forced myself to smile at her attempt at levity. "Okay."

She nodded. "In the meantime, there's always kissing. That's something we are definitely good at."

This time, my laughter was genuine. "Yes, we are rather good at that."

She leaned down and pressed her lips against mine, and when our tongues touched, I felt the kiss in my soul.

"Tell me something good, Clark," I said when we broke apart.

A heavy silence hung between us, and I held my breath in anticipation, waiting for the inevitable joy she always seemed to carry with her. I needed some of that joy tonight.

"I love you," she whispered against my lips, and my heart soared.

I hadn't heard those words from her since Mauritius, and I realized I desperately needed to hear them, even if I wasn't ready to say them back.

"That's very good." And I smiled.

I woke the next morning to the sound of soft humming. Louisa was bustling around the room, moving in that quiet way she always did when she didn't want to disturb me. I watched her for a moment, my eyes half-closed, taking in the sight of her hair falling messily over her shoulders, her face soft in the early light. She moved like she belonged here, like this was where she was meant to be. And in some strange way, it felt like she was.

The weight of yesterday still lingered in the air, the conversation about my parents and the frustration I'd felt about my limitations, but waking up to Lou made things easier. It always did.

"You're awake," she said softly, noticing I'd been watching her.

"Yeah." My voice came out rough like I'd been chewing on gravel in my sleep. "What time is it?"

"Early enough. I didn't want to wake you."

"Well, I'm up now. Mind helping me into my chair?"

A slight frown formed on those gorgeous, expressive brows of hers, and I could already tell that she was going to veto any attempt at getting out of bed. After everything that had happened with the AD attack and the emotional toll of my parents' pending divorce, I should have anticipated her extra caution.

"No chair today, Mr. Traynor. You need your rest."

I stared at her for a moment. I didn't fight her on it, partly because I wasn't in the mood to argue and partly because I knew she'd win.

I watched as she flitted around the room, bringing me a fresh glass of water, adjusting the pillows behind me, and ensuring I had everything I needed. Her fussing was both endearing and mildly irritating. But, for once, I decided to let it go.

"Clark," I said as she moved to fluff the duvet again. "I'm fine."

"I know you are, but I'm still in charge of your well-being until Nathan gets back."

"Yes, Nurse Clark," I muttered, suppressing a grin.

She rolled her eyes at me, but I could see the warmth in her smile. "Treena's coming over with Tom later," she said. "He's been asking about meeting you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Tom wants to meet Auntie Lou's special friend?"

She blushed, her hands pausing on the duvet. "That's what he calls you. I guess he wants to know what all the fuss is about, and I thought we could use some cheering up around here."

Before I could respond, there was a knock at the door. Lou turned, her brow furrowing. "They're early," she murmured, heading for the door. "I told Treena noon."

I watched her go, curiosity piqued. The sound of familiar voices floated through the annex door a moment later, and I realized it wasn't just Treena and Tom. Lou's parents were here, too. I'd dictated a letter to them a few days ago using my dictation device, and I wondered if they had read it. I knew how important Lou's family was to her, and it pained me knowing that I was the reason they were estranged. But that wasn't my only motivation for writing them. I liked Lou's parents, too. They welcomed me into their home and didn't treat me like some invalid confined to a chair—they treated me like a man. That stayed with me long after Nathan packed me away and drove me home.

I wanted Lou's parents to know that despite everything, I hadn't set out to hurt their daughter. I knew the pain I caused wouldn't be so easily forgotten, but I hoped they could see how much I care about Lou—how much we care for each other. And that I'm trying.

"Mum! Dad! What are you all doing here?" I heard the surprise in her voice.

"Treena told us she was bringing Tom over to visit with you today, and we thought we'd come along. She told us that Will was feeling a bit under the weather, and I wanted to bring him this."

"Oh…" Lou sounded hesitant. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

"It's a shepherd's pie. You can bring me back the dish when you're done."

"Thank you, mum. I'll, uh, just pop it in the fridge, and we can have it for dinner tonight."

"That'll be good for him. He could use a little meat on those bones, and this will be sure to stick. Heat it for twenty minutes at one hundred and eighty degrees."

I heard some shuffling before Bernard's voice came through. "So where is the lad? I hope it's alright that we came along. I know you weren't expecting us."

"He's resting in his room, but he'll be glad to see you."

Lou appeared in the doorway first, her expression a mix of surprise and uncertainty. Behind her were her parents—Josie and Bernard, standing quietly, almost hesitantly. Treena followed closely, holding Tom's hand, and for a moment, the room felt smaller, more intimate. There were no loud greetings or jokes, no easy camaraderie. It was more like we were all carefully navigating something fragile like we were testing whether this reunion would hold. Tom peeked out from behind Treena and gave me a shy wave, and I smiled.

"Will, my parents are here to see you with Treena and Tom," Lou said.

"I heard. Welcome. Come in."

Josie took a hesitant step forward. "Are you sure? We didn't know if we—"

"I'll be fine. It's nothing catching," I assured her.

"Oh, no, I meant, I wasn't sure if we might cause you any trouble."

"He's fine today, mum. We're just being extra careful," Lou said.

Josie gave me a relieved smile and stepped further into the room. I looked between Lou's family, taking in Bernard and Josie's concerned but cautious expressions. Treena gave me a warm smile, and Tom regarded me with open curiosity. Silence hung between us, and I wanted to do something to break the ice.

"Well, come in closer. I promise I don't bite."

Everyone gave an awkward laugh, and that seemed to help.

"We got your letter, Will," I heard Josie say softly. Her voice, though warm, carried a weight of history—of estrangement and distance.

Relief washed over me. I wasn't sure if they wanted to hear anything I had to say.

"You didn't tell me," Lou said quietly, looking at me.

"Well, I thought it was best to keep it between your parents and me. I owed them an explanation… and an apology. I hurt you, Clark, and for that, I am deeply sorry. And because I hurt you, I know that I hurt your family by extension. I wanted them to know that I'll do my best never to cause you that kind of pain again."

Lou blinked, and I could see the emotions swirling in her eyes—surprise, gratitude, maybe even a hint of relief. She glanced back at her parents, then at me again, her expression softening.

Josie stepped forward, her gaze meeting mine, and for the first time since they'd arrived, there was a faint smile on her lips. "We appreciate the letter," she said, her voice gentle. "It meant a lot, Will."

I nodded, feeling the tension in the room slowly ebb away. "I'm glad you're here."

Bernard cleared his throat softly, stepping closer. "We wanted to see for ourselves," he said, his voice low but not unkind. "How you were doing. I'm sure Lou told you we had some strong feelings about what you planned to do to yourself. I can't say that I will ever understand it, but we're glad that you didn't go through with it."

His words were simple, but the meaning behind them was clear. They weren't just here for Lou—they were here to make amends, to rebuild something that had been fractured.

"You're in good company," I said. "It seems that I caused quite the upset."

"Oh, it was more than that," Josie said, stepping closer to the bed. "We counted you as part of the family. And us Clark's don't give up so easily. Besides, we saw how much you meant to Lou. That girl was a wreck without you."

I glanced at Lou again, and not for the first time, I felt the weight of how my decision impacted her. I still don't think it was a selfish one—none of them would ever really understand how I feel—but I realize now how much it asked of her. More than I could have anticipated.

"I know, Mrs. Clark," I managed to say because part of me realized I was being scolded. But I didn't mind.

"Josie. Call me Josie." She gave me a warm smile, and I knew that everything was going to be alright.

That small gesture seemed to break the ice because the next minute I knew, the room broke out in loud Clark family conversation complete with laughter and friendly jabs.

Tom stood by the edge of the bed, his wide eyes taking in everything from the equipment beside me to the control panel attached to the bed. He didn't say much at first, just stared, his little fingers gripping the hem of his jumper. I glanced over at Lou, who was mid-conversation with her parents, and Treena, completely unaware that her nephew was sizing me up.

"Hey," Tom said, his voice quiet but bold enough to catch my attention.

I gave him a small nod. "Hey, yourself."

His gaze shifted between me and the bed, clearly fascinated by something. "Does it... go up and down?"

I raised an eyebrow, amused by the question. "It does. Want to see?"

Tom nodded eagerly, his curiosity now fully engaged. "Clark, Tom here wants to see how this thing works."

"Oh, do you now?" Lou said and pressed the button. The bed gave a soft whir as it adjusted slightly, raising the headrest. Tom's eyes widened in amazement.

"Whoa," he whispered, inching closer, clearly fascinated by the mechanics.

"Cool, huh?" I said, watching his reaction. There was something refreshing about his straightforward interest—no pity, no awkwardness—just pure curiosity.

Tom grinned up at me, his wide eyes full of innocent curiosity. I couldn't help but smile back at him—he was a little ball of energy, completely unbothered by my limitations. For him, I wasn't some tragic figure; I was just "Auntie Lou's friend.

"Does it go really high?"

I chuckled. "Not high enough to reach the ceiling, but it's good enough for me."

Treena, noticing the exchange, called over from the other side of the room. "Tom, don't bother Mr. Traynor."

"He's fine," I replied. "We're just having a little engineering chat."

Tom's grin widened, and he leaned closer as if we were sharing some secret. "Do you ever want to go super high?"

I shook my head, smirking. "Not that high. Maybe one day."

Tom's eyes stayed on the bed, but then he looked up at me and, with the simple honesty only a child could muster, said, "You must be really brave."

I blinked, caught off guard by the statement. Brave wasn't exactly how I felt most days. But I didn't correct him.

"Sometimes," I replied, watching him nod, completely satisfied with that answer.

I watched Tom lean closer, his small fingers tracing the edge of the bed frame; a familiar pang hit me. I wasn't sure what surprised me more—the fact that I liked this kid immediately or the fact that he stirred something in me I'd long buried. A sense of loss, of what could never be. Lou had mentioned wanting kids someday, in that carefree way she had about her future. And while I couldn't even begin to picture that life, meeting Tom made me think about it, just for a second. What it would be like to have a family of my own. I quickly pushed the thought away. That was something I'd given up a long time ago, but lying here now, with this kid looking at me like I could do anything… it stung.

Lou's voice cut through the chatter, her tone filled with warmth as she looked over at us. "Tom, why don't you tell Will about school? I'm sure he'd love to hear all about it."

Tom glanced at me, then back at Lou, before launching into a detailed story about his latest adventure at school. I half-listened, glancing at Lou now and then, feeling the warmth of her presence in the room. She was right; even when thinking about everything I couldn't do, I felt a bit more cheerful when her family was around.