The mansion was quieter than usual that morning, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath in anticipation. Mia had spent hours the night before preparing everything she would need her charts, her small set of herbal remedies, the tools she had researched meticulously in secret. Each item was carefully arranged on a tray, every detail accounted for.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself before entering Aiden's room. He sat in his wheelchair by the window, his gray eyes fixed on the pale light filtering through the curtains. His posture was rigid, his expression unreadable, but Mia knew that underneath the cold exterior, a storm of doubt and pride raged inside him.
"Sir…" she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm ready. I'll take it slow. I'll be careful. You just need to relax."
He glanced at her suspiciously, one eyebrow arched, as if daring her to fail. "Relax?" he repeated, voice low and sharp. "Do you really think I can just… relax?"
Mia swallowed but held her ground. "Not immediately. But if you trust me, even a little, I can help you. Step by step."
He finally allowed her to wheel him closer to the bed. Every movement was deliberate, cautious. Mia's hands hovered for a moment over his leg, feeling the tension in the muscles, the coldness of the skin. She whispered softly as she began the treatment, massaging and pressing the points she had studied.
At first, Aiden flinched, his hands tightening in protest. "Stop!" he barked.
"I won't hurt you," she replied gently, her fingers steady but careful. "I just want to help you."
He didn't say anything further, though the tension in his hands relaxed fractionally. She continued, her heart racing with every twitch, every flicker of movement in his leg. It was subtle at first a tiny shiver beneath her fingers, barely perceptible but it was there.
"This… this is going to take time," Mia said softly, almost to herself. "A month, maybe more… but I know it can work."
Aiden's gray eyes flickered toward her, narrowing. "A month?" he repeated, disbelief lacing his tone. "You think I'll last that long? You think I'll let someone… touch me for a month?"
"You'll have to," she said firmly, meeting his gaze. "Because I won't give up. Not after seeing the life still in your leg. I know it's there, and I will help you walk again. But it takes patience, trust, and commitment from both of us."
For a long moment, silence filled the room. The only sound was the faint rustling of the curtains in the morning breeze. Then, almost imperceptibly, Aiden shifted slightly, the smallest sign of concession. He didn't speak, he didn't move much, but he allowed her to continue, a silent acknowledgment that perhaps, just perhaps he was willing to try.
Mia's heart swelled with hope. One month of treatments, one month of careful, persistent care, and maybe just maybe she could help him reclaim not only his mobility but a piece of himself that had been lost for far too long.
She leaned down slightly, whispering, "I'll take it one day at a time, sir. And by the end of it… I promise, you'll walk again."
Aiden said nothing. But as Mia continued her work, she noticed something that made her chest tighten a faint, almost imperceptible twitch in his leg. A subtle promise, a spark of possibility. And it was enough to keep her going.
One month. That's all it would take. One month of patience, trust, and perseverance. One month to begin changing everything.