I sat in my wheelchair, silently listening as he droned on about his regrets, his loneliness, his downfall. Every word fueled the fire inside me.

For thirty minutes, he poured his heart out.

Finally, I met his pleading gaze and said, “You don’t deserve another chance.”

“Anna, please! Don’t be so cruel,” he begged, inching closer.

That’s when something in me snapped.

A rush of fury and adrenaline surged through me. My fingers dug into the arms of my wheelchair. Pain shot through my body as I pushed myself upward—but I didn’t stop.

My legs shook, but I stood.

“Get out. Now!” I commanded.

David’s eyes widened in shock. He stumbled backward, nearly tripping over himself in his frantic attempt to flee.

“Mom… you were standing,” Jake murmured from the doorway, his voice filled with awe.

I let out a deep breath and eased myself back into my wheelchair, drained but content. “Looks like I was.”

Without hesitation, Jake rushed across the room and wrapped his arms around me. No words were needed. In that moment, we both understood—having each other was all that truly mattered.