Time went by.
The following month was better—thank God.
Colin still couldn’t do everything that was expected of him, but he’d made real progress. He was already walking with crutches, and his body looked stronger.
As usual, I stayed on his case, and every time he mentioned giving up, there I was—playing the annoying one who wouldn’t let him.
We didn’t talk about us, or about those tender words we’d exchanged weeks ago. My focus was somewhere else.
“We’re late.”
“We are?”
I didn’t remember having anything scheduled, but Colin was adjusting a few things and had just spoken to Tito for a couple of minutes.
“Yes. We’re both going to Joshua’s game at school.”
“Wait, really?”
I couldn’t believe it at first—but Colin wasn’t one to joke about something like that.
“Yes. I was planning to go with the crutches, but I don’t mind using the wheelchair. I’m not strong enough yet.”
“Hearing you say that makes me happy.I can’t even hide it.”
I smiled.
I just hope Colin manages to face his fears—and becomes a happy man again.
“I didn’t think you’d want to come.”
“Neither did I.”
We were sitting in the bleachers, and the game had already started.
I don’t even have to say how happy Joshua was when he found out Colin would be here. This was the second time he’d come to his son’s game since the tragedy with his daughter.
“I see how hard you’ve been working in physical therapy. I know how tough it must’ve been to actually start doing all those exercises.”
“It wasn’t. It is.” He spoke naturally, without self-pity.“I hope you never have to go through this. You feel weak for not being able to do the simplest things—like a useless body trapped in itself. For a man like me, it’s easy to throw in the towel and give up… like I’ve tried to do a thousand times.”
“But you’re not going to. Don’t forget I’m annoying, and I’ll keep bugging you until every one of your movements is back to normal.”
“If they come back,” he said quietly. “Let’s be honest—we still don’t know if therapy will fix everything.”
“Oh, it will!”
The strength in my voice must’ve startled him a little, but he didn’t say anything—just smiled faintly.
“If there’s one thing I love about you, it’s your hope. It’s one of the few things that keeps me going when I don’t have much left in me.”
We didn’t say anything else. We just sat there watching the game, and a few minutes later, I saw Colin’s face light up when Joshua scored a goal. He almost jumped out of his chair, that’s how excited he was.
The game was over, and we were walking toward the car.
“You scored an amazing goal.I’m proud of you.”
“Really, Dad?You think it was good?I actually closed my eyes when I kicked.”
