Its me, Michael, he whispered, sitting down beside me. Its too late to change anything now. Youre nearly eighty, Mum. He turned and left without letting me finish a word.
Grandma Lily, with the last of her strength, hauled a bucket of icy water from the tap. She shuffled, legs trembling, along the snowpacked footpath to her cottage. The cold bit her cheeks, and her fingers clung weakly to the frosted, weatherworn handle. At the doorway she paused to catch her breath, set one bucket on the step, reached for the other and her foot slipped on the ice.
Oh God, help me, she muttered before she hit the ground. Her shoulder slammed into the step, a dull ache blooming at the back of her neck. She lay there for a few seconds, unable to move or even gasp.
She tried to rise, but her legs wouldnt obey; everything below her waist seemed to have vanished. Gasping from terror and pain, she began to crawl toward the door, grabbing at anything she could: an old stool, a broken broom, the hem of her skirt. Her back twisted, sweat ran down her forehead, and the world spun.
Come on, Lily just a little more, she whispered to herself, trying to pull herself up onto the threadbare settee in the hallway.
On the windowsill lay her mobile. With shaking fingers she dialed her sons number.
Paul love, somethings wrong come quick she breathed and then slipped into unconsciousness.
By evening Paul arrived. The door banged open, a gust of wind swept into the house. He stood on the threshold, hatless and dishevelled, staring at his mother halfcollapsed on the couch.
Mum whats happened to you? he asked, taking her hand. Lord, shes like a slab of ice.
Without hesitation he called his wife:
Olivia, come as soon as you can. Shes terribly ill I think she isnt moving at all.
Grandma Lily heard everything, though she could neither smile nor stir. A flicker of hope rose in her chest: if he was frightened, it meant she still mattered.
Perhaps this was the moment the family would finally rally. Could they save her?
She tried to wiggle her feetnothing. Only her fingers twitched feebly. Tears welled, not from the pain but from the thought that maybe not everything was lost.
Olivia didnt appear until two days later. She stood at the doorway, irritated, holding Annies hand as if shed been pulled away from something urgent.
Well, look what we have, old woman, she muttered softly, glancing at her motherinlaw. Now lie there like a log.
Annie clung to her mother, eyes darting anxiously at Lily, trying to smile, but her face wouldnt cooperate.
Olivia slipped into the house in silence. Paul led her to the kitchen. They spoke in hushed tones, the tension thick in the air. Though Lily couldnt hear the words, she felt the bitterness in their hearts.
A few minutes later their son returned, lifting her gently onto his arms without a word.
Where are you taking me? she whispered.
Paul said nothing, his jaw set. She wrapped her arms around his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of oil, tobacco, something homely.
To the hospital? she asked again.
He stayed silent, his steps quickening. Instead of a hospital, he carried her to an outbuilding once used to store potatoes, old skis, forgotten trinkets. The shed was cold, floorboards creaked, damp seeped through the windows, and the smell of neglect hung heavy.
He placed her carefully on a motheaten sofa covered with a faded blanket.
Here youll stay, he said flatly, avoiding her eyes. Its too late to change anything now. Youre nearly eighty, Mum. He turned and left without letting her speak.
Shock didnt strike all at once; it crept in slowly, inexorably. Lily lay there, eyes fixed on the ceiling, the cold seeping into her bones. She could not understand why he behaved so.
Memories floated: pulling her son to school, scrubbing the school floor, buying him a winter coat on credit, paying for his wedding when the inlaws refused, saying it wasnt suitable. I was always on his side, she whispered, still in disbelief.
She thought of Olivias facecold, restrained, sharp as a blade. Never grateful, never visiting without a reminder. Shed only appeared once, for Annies birthday.
Now she was in that cold outbuilding, feeling like a forgotten object. She wondered whether she would see another sunrise.
Each day made it clearer: something was terribly wrong. Paul visited less often, leaving a bowl of soup without looking, then hurrying away. Olivia and Annie stopped appearing altogether.
Lily felt life slipping away. She stopped eating, only sipping water to avoid starving. Sleep eluded her; a backache kept her awake. But the worst was the crushing loneliness, unbearable and oppressive.
Why? she thought. Why me? I loved him more than anyone. I gave everything for him.
No answers camejust cold and emptiness.
One morning, as a thin sliver of sun pierced the grimy window, she heard a soft, persistent knocknothing like Pauls. Whos there? she whispered, voice barely a whisper.
The door creaked and a elderly man in a threadbare coat entered. His face was familiar, though she only halfrecognised him. He sat beside her, took her hand.
Its me, Michael, he said, settling next to her.
Lilys heart jumped. Michaelher neighbour, the man shed once loved and then cast out as unsuitable for her family.
Michael she breathed.
He said nothing, just squeezed her hand, then asked gently, What happened to you, Lily? Why are you here? Paul told me you were in a care home
She tried to explain, tears blurring her words. He understood without a spoken reply, pulling her into an old embrace.
Dont be afraid. Ill get you out of here.
He lifted herlight as a featherand carried her out into the daylight. Paul was gone, off to the town, Olivia too. Only Annie peered out a window before quickly retreating.
Michael took her to his own cottage, laid her in a warm bed, covered her with a blanket, brought tea with honey, fed her like a child.
Rest now. Ill call a doctor, he said.
The doctor arrived swiftly, examined her, and shook his head.
Its a longstanding spinal fracture. With proper treatment she might stand again, but itll need surgery and rehab, he explained.
Michael nodded. Well do whatever it takes. Ill sell what I have if I must, but well save her.
Lily looked at him through tears. Michael why? After everything
He gave a sad smile. Because I love you. Ive always loved you, and I always will.
She weptjoy, pain, the realization that life wasnt over.
Michael tended to her as if she were his own mother: feeding, washing, reading aloud. He spoke of the days hed waited, hoping shed return.
I always knew youd understand one day, he said. And Ill be right here.
A week later Paul returned, saw his mother in a proper bedroom, no longer in the outbuilding.
Mum how did you… get up? he stammered.
She stared at him coldly. I didnt. Michael brought me.
Paul lowered his gaze. I I didnt expect this
Go, Paul. Dont come back, Michael said, voice firm.
Paul left without a word. Olivia and Annie never returned.
Lily stayed with Michael, who became her pillarboth literally and figuratively. He helped her onto walking frames, then a cane.
Look, Lily, Im moving, she laughed, taking her first steps.
He wept with happiness.
One bright morning, as the sun gilded the windows, she turned to him and said, Thank you, Michael, for everything.
He took her hand. Im the one thanking you, for coming back.
They lived on quietly, peacefully, in the love theyd waited so long for.
Lily sat on a bench in the garden, soaking up the sun. Her legs still ached, but she walkedslowly, but she walked. Michael carved a wooden toy for Annie, who would often dash in, hiding from her mother.
Do you think Paul will ever forgive? she asked.
Michael shook his head. Dont think about him. Think about yourself. Youre alivethats what matters.
She nodded, feeling alive for the first time in ages.
On the kitchen table lay an old photograph: a young Lily with Michael, captioned Finally together.
A month later Paul barged in without knocking. Lily sipped tea, Michael by her side.
Mum we need to talk, Paul began, ignoring Michael.
She stayed silent.
Olivia says youve gone mad. That old man has poisoned your mind, Paul sneered.
Michael rose, but Lily stopped him with her hand. Leave, Paul. This isnt your place.
He shivered. But Im your son!
I was. Now go.
Paul stormed out, slamming the door. Lily didnt cry; she simply squeezed Michaels hand tighter.
Thank you for being here, she whispered.
He smiled. And thank you.
Life moved forwardwithout Paul, but with love.
A week later Annie ran in, sat on the bench, and hugged her grandmother.
Grandma, why is Daddy so angry? she asked.
Lily brushed Annies hair. Hes simply forgotten what love feels like. You wont forget, will you?
Annie shook her head. No. I love you.
And I love you, Lily replied.
Michael watched them, smiling. Life, he thought, often breaks us, but it also mends us. The key is never to give up.
Lily stood on the doorstep, watching the road as the sun set, painting the sky pink. Michael came up, wrapped his arm around her.
What are you thinking about? he asked.
That everythings finally alright, she said.
He kissed her temple. Yes, Lily. At last.
Together they stepped back into the house, side by side, forever.
