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Wilson’s transformation was remarkable, better than older version of him, he had become a
naragon of kindness, support, and gentle care. His eyes, once a window to his inner turmoil, now shone with a deep longing and regret. I couldn’t help but notice the way he looked at me, a waterfall of yearning and guilt. Whenever my actions inadvertently highlighted the distance between us, he would reassure me with a tender smile.
When I offered to take the single bed, he insisted that Wilona needed me close, and he would graciously take the single bed or the makeshift couch, his selflessness was impressive. His unwavering dedication to our daughter and his quiet understanding of my boundaries were appealin
A pang of guilt nagged at me as I watched Wilson tirelessly devote himself to his work, while I felt like I was contributing so little. Apart from cooking meals, which was a small comfort, I didn’t have much to offer.
The presence of cleaning staff, canteen options, and a laundry service that came every three days made me feel redundant, like I was merely a spectator in our lives. My purpose seemed to shrink to a singular focus: spending time with Wilona. I couldn’t shake the feeling of uselessness, as if my identity had become inextricably linked to my role as a mother, and I was failing to bring balance to our little family.
Wilona, on the other hand, had blossomed in this new environment, her face radiating joy and contentment. She had found her tribe among the other children, who, like her, were navigating the challenges of rehabilitation.
The facility’s thoughtful programs, including classes and activities, kept her engaged and. stimulated, ensuring that boredom was a rare visitor. As she formed strong bonds with her new friends, I witnessed a beautiful transformation, she no longer seemed self–conscious about her wheelchair.
Surrounded by people who understood her journey, she felt a sense of belonging, her confidence soaring as she explored this new world alongside them. It was heartwarming to see her so carefree, her smile is my top most goal.
The oven’s timer snapped me back to reality, and I refocused on the culinary masterpiece I was creating. Today was a special day – Willy’s birthday – and I was determined to make it unforgettable.
I had invited some of her friends to join us, and the aroma of the cake sponge, now cooling on the rack, filled the air. Next, I dove into preparing the Korean fried chicken I had learned to make from YouTube, a dish that showcased the bold flavors and combinations of this country, it was also famous for (seafood aside, which wasn’t my cup of tea).
Alongside the chicken, I was also whipping up burgers, fries, and a medley of other treats,
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determined to create a spread that would delight both kids and adults alike. The kitchen was abuzz with activity, but my heart was full of joy, eager to see her face light up when she walked into her
birthday extravaganza.
“The desserts are done,” Wilson announced, beaming with pride as he rose from the small table, his hands cradling a tray of decadent chocolate mousse.
He presented them to me with a flourish, his eyes sparkling with excitement, like a child eager to show off their masterpiece. The rich aroma of dark chocolate wafted up, enticing me to take a bite, and I couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.
His cooking skills had always been impressive, but there was something different about seeing him so invested in making this birthday celebration perfect for Wilona. He was a skilled cook, so I had
no doubt the mousses would be divine
“Thank you!” I called out, as I hurried to remove the prawns from the air fryer, the savory aroma filling the air. I had gone all out with the preparations. We had purchased the air fryer ourselves, a nod to the fact that, despite the facility’s many amenities, some comforts of home were worth bringing along.
“I went overboard with the preparations, right?” I asked, already knowing the answer, as I expertly juggled the sizzling prawns and the multitude of other dishes I had prepared for Wilona’s special
day.
Honestly, it was Wilona’s first birthday since the accident where I’d seen her radiate such genuine joy, and I was determined to make it a celebration to remember.
The sparkle in her eyes, the smile on her face, and the laughter that filled the air were all testaments to her resilience and strength. I wanted to cherish this moment, to freeze it in time, and to make this birthday one that would overshadow the difficulties of the past year. As I busied myself with the final preparations, my heart swelled with love and gratitude, knowing that this day was a special for her.
‘Nah, everything’s perfect,” Wilson said, his head shaking in amused admiration, his eyes sparkling with warmth and appreciation. But as our gazes met, I felt a pang of guilt pierce my heart.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to rekindle the affection and desire I once had for him. The distance between us, once bridged by our love and laughter, now seemed like centuries apart. I wondered if I would feel that connection again, to recapture the spark that had once burned so brightly between us. Yet, as I looked at Wilson, I couldn’t help but feel like I was failing him, like I was unable to give him the love and intimacy he was hoping for.
Maybe I just needed more time, I thought, sighing inwardly as I turned my attention to decorating the cake. Thankfully, the party was being held in the facility’s banquet room, which meant I wouldn’t have to worry about cleaning up afterwards. As I worked on the cake, my mind wandered
to the staff and residents here.
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