Lora stared back at the young doctor, not knowing how to answer.

"My expectations? Dr Shaw, I saw my husband's latest MRI report. His spinal cord was damaged from top to bottom in the accident and it has healed very little since. If anything, it's gotten worse. He had four disc prolapses. Mr Zahara said that removing the herniations would reduce the pain."

"And that is exactly what I did." He spoke with an air of finality however Lora couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else. She held her breath until he spoke again. "Lora, the pain will get better once the inflammation goes down. We are giving him steroids right now to control it. It was a difficult surgery and the damage was extensive. There is a lot of swelling around his spinal cord. I'm hoping that once that goes down, he will be able to control the pain with standard painkillers. He may need the occasional codeine. Maybe some morphine on particularly bad nights. But we'll discuss that at a later stage."

"Okay," Lora nodded slowly. "I know all this. So, I'm guessing there's more?"

Dr Shaw's frown deepened slightly. "Vico said Jonathan tried standing up even though they specifically told him he wasn't ready for that. Were you there?"

Lora's heart started pounding. She wasn't sure why but she didn't like where this was going. "That's cutting a very long story short, but yes. And yes, I was there."

Dr Shaw looked at her intensely. Not upset or with pity. But his eyes were fierce. "His body has a lot of healing to do, Lora, and even then I doubt he will be able to walk. You know that, right?"

Lora felt herself growing impatient. Dr Shaw was not telling her anything other people hadn't said before and yet it felt like he was skirting around something bigger. And the way he was saying her name all the time was getting on her nerves.

"What are you trying to say, Dr Shaw?"

The doctor chewed on the inside of his mouth gently before speaking again. "I know you were a great nurse and that you want to take Jonathan back home..."

Pause.

"But?"

"But I can't see how you can take care of him by yourself, Lora. He is practically bed-bound. At most, you may be able to transfer him to an armchair with a lifter, for which we will have to send an OT to your house to do an assessment. And even just for that, you know you should be two people. He needs to be washed and changed in bed. He will probably need an air mattress, a very strict diet and a turning routine to avoid pressure sores. And he is prone to infections which, to be honest with you, I'm not sure his body can withstand."

Lora stared at the young doctor, his features calm save for the slight furrowing of his brows. If anyone had walked in at that very moment, they would have thought they were merely discussing the weather. But a beautiful storm was brewing inside her chest and Lora could almost feel the thunder rattle through her.

"Dr Shaw, what you are describing is exactly how my husband was when I took him home after the accident, only it was worse because we were still adjusting to our new reality. Nobody prepares you for that. I had to explain to our two small children why their big, strong father was suddenly in bed all the time, upset and miserable because he was in pain or frustrated, why he couldn't go to work anymore, why he couldn't drive anywhere by himself. I had to make them understand that the man who took care of us was now fully dependent on me, so I couldn't spend as much time with them as I used to. They suddenly had to help out around the house and start fending for themselves a bit. The turning, the lifting, the bathing... That's nothing. We are not expecting any miracles-"

"Are you sure about that? He tried to walk, Lora!" Dr Shaw interrupted, lifting his hands in the air. "He tried to stand up, less than twenty-four hours after his procedure. It's a wonder he could stand at all before the surgery."

"The kids were there! We had an argument moments before! He was emotional!"

"So, you're telling me you're okay with taking him home like this? That you can care for him properly and safely in addition to raising two small children?"

Lora scowled at him but the irritation in his features did not subside. On the contrary, it seemed to fuel him more.

"It's exhausting!" he went on. "You're going to burn out. There is no shame in considering alternative options."

"I'm sorry, Dr Shaw, but don't you think you are crossing your professional boundaries?"

"I want to discharge my patient safely," he said as he stood up straighter and crossed his strong arms over his chest.

"And you will!"

Seeing her high chin and tight lips, Dr Owen Shaw exhaled deeply and found himself fighting the urge to put his hands on the slight woman's shoulders. "Lora, just bear with me for a moment-"

"Stop! Please, Dr Shaw, I am not the person you need to be concerned about. I am your patient's wife. Send the OT! They will do their home assessment just like they did last time. If I need to do more modifications to the house then I will. I already have a medical bed, pro-pads, and all the dressings and ointments Jonathan could possibly need. I have a tilt-in wheelchair and a commode. I modified the bathroom so that I can help Jona in the shower rather than giving him sponge baths. I transfer him just fine to and from the bed on my own but if I need a lifter, then I will get a lifter and I will find someone to help me. I have all the equipment the physios and OTs ordered and I will help him with the recommended exercises as many times a day as necessary.

"When Jonathan was discharged seven months ago, he was barely able to move his wrist and now he has enough strength to attempt to stand after just a few hours from the fifth procedure he's had in his back alone! I have oxygen tanks and an AED for emergencies. I have Mr Zahara's number and the ambulance on speed dial. Let me assure you, Dr Shaw, that there is no better place for my husband than our home. I coped before and, God willing, I will cope now. If you're not happy to discharge him like this, then refer him to a rehabilitation centre. But after that, he will come home. There is no alternative."

Lora was breathing hard. Tears had welled up in her eyes and her chest was heaving. She couldn't bear the thought of sending him to a residence. What would people say? How could she ever face the Lord if she were to abandon her husband like that?

Dr Shaw ran his fingers through his soft curls and exhaled from his nose. "I don't want to upset you. I just want to make sure that we are on the same page when it comes to the outcome of the procedure," he said after a while.

Lora met his gaze and looked him squarely in the face. He still looked concerned and unconvinced. She hated it. She knew he meant well, but she hated it. She knew what was right and she would not be convinced to think otherwise.

Mr Zahara had also told her the chances of Jona waking up from his coma were practically non-existent. But she had prayed endlessly, night after night, by his bedside and at the chapel and as she cried on her mother's shoulder. Those were the darkest moments of her life. She thought she would drown in her guilt. She begged and begged the Lord for another chance to talk to Jonathan because she needed his forgiveness.

Nobody knew that they were in the middle of an argument when Jona stormed out angry as a bull, seeing only red. The last thing she had told him before he slammed the door on her was that she wasn't happy. The next time she saw him, two men in scrubs were rushing him to the emergency room, his body splattered at a weird angle over the stretcher, his face matted with blood.

Against all odds, Jonathan woke up. When he realised he may not be able to leave his bed, he cursed and spat at his circumstance and swore he'd rather die than be unable to do anything for himself, opening yet another wound for Lora that still hadn't quite healed. So the young wife prayed again, beside her husband and at the chapel, before she fell asleep and as soon as she woke up. Where there is life, there is hope, she'd say because it was sinful to be ungrateful for what the Lord gifted us.

After a lot of hard work, whispered invocations and angry tears, Jona was spending whole mornings in his wheelchair. He was eating solid food and complaining about the taste. Lora knew her husband was stubborn and proud. He did not merely want to exist. He wanted to live. He wasn't happy with sitting in a wheelchair all day. And he never would be.

He craved a social life. He wanted to enjoy food and drink. He wanted to manage his business. He wanted to bear his own weight even if only for short distances, even if it meant he had to lean on his wife every step of the way.

It wasn't easy. It was exhausting. Dr Owen Shaw was right. But that wasn't an excuse.

"We are on the same page," Lora stated firmly.

"We as in you and I. What about your husband?" Dr Shaw sighed. "I'm just asking if you could speak with the man, Lora. I don't want him to be disappointed, that's all. It will make things so much easier on you too."

The softness was back in his voice. Considerate and warm, just like chocolate. But once again, the way he said her name hit Lora hard. It made her heart beat frantically with a fear that was incomprehensible to her.

"No," she said assertively. "I will do whatever is necessary to get him in the best shape possible. That is my duty. After the accident, nobody had any hope and yet here we are. If you want to tell him that he will never stand or walk or that he has to concede to being an invalid for the rest of his life, you can tell him yourself."

Lora turned on her heels and stormed out of the small office resisting the urge to slam the door. She walked straight to her husband's room and found him on his side playing with Aiden and Siena. He roared at them, pretending to be a fearsome lion and as they howled with laughter, his eyes shone bright with pride and happiness. She smiled at them as she ran towards them in a crouching position and snatched Aiden, lifted him up into the air and pretended to gnaw at his belly.

"Where's Krista?" she asked Jona, who was looking at her meaningfully, clearly regretting the scene he made earlier. Lora winked at him, indicating that all was forgotten and forgiven.

"She went to get coffee with your brother. Probably met up with Jess too."

Lora didn't say anything. She put Aiden down and dragged the armchair close to Jona's bed again. "Do you want some water? Your lips look dry."

Jona shook his head. "I'm fine. What is Wayne doing here anyway?"

Lora laughed a hollow laugh. "I don't know but he brought the kids over so I'm not complaining."

"He hates me. You know he hates me, right?" Jona muttered softly, not wanting the kids to hear.

"Yes. I'm sure that breaks your heart since you try so hard to make him like you," Lora replied sarcastically.

Jona's eyes lit up with a glint of mischief. "I don't need him to like me. I already defiled his little sister."

She wanted to scowl at him. She didn't like that her husband and her brother weren't on good terms. But Jona was finally in a playful mood. She wasn't going to say anything that might ruin that.

"You are a bad man."

Jona laughed at his innocent wife. "I'm a bad man? Be careful what you say. I know who you vote for, woman!"

Lora glared at him, all the humour vanishing from her face. "I vote for the party that works for the people, not for the entitled snobs who think the middle class should be unconditionally glorified. And you being one of those snobs doesn't make you better than anybody else nor does it mean that you know anything about politics."

Jona laughed even harder. "Stop it, peasant! I'll bust my stitches."

"Call me peasant again and I'll snap your stitches myself!"

Jonathan's blue eyes turned serious as they took in the two beautiful angels playing happily in the corner. He then turned to his wife and cupped her cheek.

"Do you think I'll ever be able to walk again, Lor?"

Lora felt like something was stuck in her throat as she thought of Dr Shaw and their conversation mere minutes ago.

She swallowed before answering, "Have faith, Jonathan."