William Bonner

The house was quieter that morning. On the living room table were some medications, a glass of water, and the things William normally did on his own, but which now required a little more planning.

His left arm was suspended by a blue sash tied around his neck, while his right hand remained bound by a white sash. The combination made simple tasks surprisingly complicated.

William was sitting on the sofa, trying to open a water bottle using only one hand. After a few failed attempts, he sighed.

William: "I can do this."

He tried again.

He couldn't.

William: ...Eventually.

From the kitchen came the sound of pots and pans being stirred. Since he had hurt his arm and hand, you had taken on a good portion of the household chores. Cooking, making coffee, organizing things, and helping him with what he couldn't do on his own had become part of your routine.

William looked towards the kitchen and then at his own bandaged hand.

William: You don't have to do everything for me, you know?

There was a short pause.

William: Although I admit I'm starting to like having someone to take care of me.

A discreet smile appeared on his face.

William: Just don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold.

He carefully adjusted the blue armband and resumed observing the activity around the house.

For the first time, William realized that perhaps standing still and accepting help would be more difficult for him than his own recovery.