Morning came heavy, like the house itself was holding its breath.
James wheeled himself to Juliet's door and pushed it open without knocking.
"Babe… good morning."
Juliet didn't turn immediately. When she finally did, her eyes were cold—too cold for morning.
"You didn't talk to me after what happened yesterday," he continued, forcing a small smile that didn't last. "And now you're looking at me like that… you're still angry."
A sharp, humorless laugh escaped her.
"Angry?"
she repeated, stepping closer. "You're the reason I'm mad, James. You're sitting there, doing nothing—refusing to do the one thing that could actually help you."
Her voice dropped, tighter now.
"If your brother were alive… he'd be furious with you."
That hit.
James' fingers tightened around the wheels.
"I want you to walk," she said, each word deliberate. Final.
Silence stretched between them.
Then—
"…Okay."
Juliet blinked.
"Okay?" she echoed.
"Call Collins," James said, jaw clenched. "I'll try. I'll try my best."
Collins arrived within minutes, slightly out of breath, eyes flicking between them.
"Well… this is new," he said carefully. "You actually want to try?"
James didn't answer. He just nodded.
"Alright then," Collins muttered. "Let's not waste time."
Juliet moved behind James, her hands firm as she helped him out of the wheelchair. His body trembled the second his weight shifted.
"James, look at me," she said quickly. "Not the floor. Look at me."
His breathing turned uneven.
"I'm letting go," she whispered.
"Wait—"
"I'm letting go, James."
Her fingers slipped away.
For a second—
Just one second—
He stood.
"Oh my God…" His voice cracked. "I'm standing."
"Yes," Juliet breathed, eyes shining but fierce.
"Yes, you are. Stay with me."
"Alright," Collins said, stepping closer but not touching him. "Now move. One leg."
James swallowed hard.
"One…" he forced out, dragging his leg forward.
His body shook violently.
"Good," Collins urged. "Another one. Two."
James took another step.
"Yes—yes, you're doing it," Juliet said, almost afraid to sound hopeful.
"Three—"
His knee buckled.
And he crashed.
Hard.
The sound echoed.
Juliet flinched. Collins rushed forward, grabbing him under the arms.
"Easy—easy—get up," Collins muttered, hauling him back.
James' face twisted in pain.
"I can't—"
"You can," Collins cut in sharply. "You can, James."
They steadied him again.
"Try again," Juliet said, softer now, but unyielding.
"Please."
James nodded weakly.
"One…" Collins counted.
James moved.
"Two…"
Another step.
"Three…"
His breathing was ragged now.
"Yes—keep going—four—"
"I'm tired," James gasped. "I can't—I want to sit down."
"Give me the wheelchair," he demanded, panic creeping into his voice.
Juliet hesitated.
"No," Collins said firmly. "Don't give it to him."
"Collins—"
"You can do this," Collins insisted, locking eyes with him. "One more. Then another."
James shook his head, fear flashing through him.
But he moved.
"One…"
"The other leg—two—"
"Three—"
"Four—"
His body gave out completely.
This time, the fall was worse.
A sickening thud.
Silence followed.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Collins crouched beside him, his voice quieter now.
"…Alright. That's enough."
James didn't speak. He just lay there, staring at nothing.
Collins helped him back into the wheelchair.
Juliet didn't say a word as they wheeled him out.
The tension lingered in the air long after they were gone—heavy, unresolved, and far from over.
Juliet went ahead to meet James. Her voice trembled, but she forced herself forward.
"You can't give up. You have to keep trying. You're doing your best," she urged.
James didn't look at her. "I don't want anyone around me," he muttered.
Juliet dropped to her knees beside him, close enough to feel the weight of his silence. "Even me?"
James's eyes flicked toward her. "Yes… even you."
She stayed there for a heartbeat, then slowly rose. "When you're ready to walk… you know where to find me," she said, voice low, almost breaking, as she began gathering her things.
James's mother appeared in the doorway, her eyes narrowing. "Juliet, where are you going?"
Juliet's hands froze mid-motion. "Ma… I'm grateful for everything you've done for me and my sister, but… James said I should leave."
"No, my daughter. You can't just leave," James's mother voice shook.
"I'm sorry, Ma… I have to," Juliet whispered. Without another word, she stepped out, the door clicking shut behind her. James didn't move, didn't even look.
She moved forward to James. "James… I thought you were healing. You can't heal if you keep pushing everyone away."
James stayed silent.
Juliet walked the quiet streets back to her house, every step heavy. She burst inside, nearly collapsing into her sister's arms.
She narrated everything to her sister.
"Big sis… he loves you. He just… he needs space," she said.
"If he loved me," Juliet snapped, voice breaking, "he would have stopped me. He didn't… not even once."
"Big sis… you're overthinking. Tomorrow's his birthday… will you at least check on him?"
Juliet shook her head, staring at the floor. "No. I'm not going anywhere."