I woke up early.Earlier than I needed to.
My knee barely hurt — just a small discomfort I could ignore. I sat on the edge of the bed, stretched my leg, and tightened the brace carefully.
I walked to the bathroom with a limp, but without crutches. I turned on the shower. The sound of the water filling the stall held me still for a few seconds, just breathing.My phone alarm had gone off earlier — I recognized it, opened one eye, considered getting up… and immediately gave up. The bed was too good, too warm.
Funny: ever since the fall, my days had been good. Ridiculously good.
"God, Helena," I muttered to myself. "You fall on the floor, become an official member of the knee-brace-and-crutches club, and somehow call it your best phase."
I laughed alone, like an idiot.A very happy idiot.
I showered calmly, no dramatic falls, no Rafael bursting through the door.An absolute victory.
I brushed my teeth, combed my hair, put on something reasonably decent — nothing special — but it was the best I could do.
I took a deep breath.I just had to go downstairs and meet Rafael.
I turned the key… and ran straight into him.
Rafael had his hand on the doorknob, about to walk in.We both froze for a second.I let out a short, strangled scream.
"See? That's perfect synchronicity," I said, trying to sound natural. I failed.
He didn't say anything at first. Just looked at me.
"How did you sleep?" he asked.
"Better than I should've," I said, adjusting my brace. "The hard part was leaving the bed."
"It's good to rest now," he replied. "Soon you'll be back to the university routine."
"Yeah," I said, fixing my shirt. "But I'm not bringing the crutch. I'm done with it."
Rafael's face closed instantly.
"Helena…"
"If I need to," I cut him off, lifting my chin, "I have you."
He went quiet.
Not because he agreed — but because something in my voice stopped him mid-sentence.He looked away for a moment, like he needed to gather his thoughts back into place.
"The taxi should be here soon," he said. "Let's go down."
I stepped toward the stairs, no crutches, just my weight.
And that's when he did it.
Without asking. Without saying anything.
His arm slipped around my waist — firm, steady, natural. Guiding me. Supporting me.
A shiver ran through me, the kind that starts low in your stomach and climbs all the way to your neck.
I didn't say anything.I wasn't uncomfortable.Just… my heart was beating way too fast.It's hard to pretend you don't feel something when he touches you.I breathed slowly.
If he noticed… he didn't comment.
We went down together, step by step.My pace, his care.
The ride to the clinic was calm. The car followed the street and, even in silence, I felt Rafael paying attention to every tiny movement I made. It wasn't surveillance — it was just care.
When we arrived, he got out first, quickly, and opened the door for me.
"Come here," he said, extending his hand.
I took it.
His hand was soft, but the grip firm, steady. Familiar.It felt like I had been made to fit there.
We entered the clinic and he guided me to a chair in the waiting room.
"Wait here. I'll talk to the receptionist," he said.
I just nodded.
He came back a few moments later.
"She said it won't take long."
And it didn't.
The appointment couldn't have gone better.
"Excellent recovery," the doctor said, examining my knee. "You can drop the crutches."
("I dropped them ages ago," I thought, but kept it to myself.)
"Keep the brace until the end of the week just to be safe. Next week, back to normal life."
I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt.
"Thank you, doctor. Really."
He smiled back and, before turning away, glanced at Rafael.
"And give part of the credit to your boyfriend," he added with a knowing little wink. "He took very good care of you. That's why the healing was fast."
I turned into a tomato…Rafael turned into a tomato…We left the clinic and even the sunlight felt different — or maybe it was just me.
"Rafael," I said before the euphoria swallowed me whole. "Thank you. I mean it. You and your father weren't just neighbors. Especially you… you were there the whole time. Even when you were grumbling or lecturing me."
He was silent for a moment.
"I just made sure you got better quickly," he said. "If it dragged on, I'd probably end up having to be a freshman tutor again."
I laughed — of course he wasn't going to admit anything properly.
"Well…" I said, opening my arms as if presenting the scene, "now that I'm officially released, we can walk home."
His face closed immediately.
"No," he said. Instantly. "Don't start."
"What now?" I asked, innocently. "I'm cleared."
"I already called the taxi," he shot back, crossing his arms. "And you're getting in. Without complaining."
I looked at him and smiled.Somewhere along the way, his grumbling had become my favorite sound.Somewhere along the way, my heart had learned his exact language of care.
Maybe it was the day he saved me from being electrocuted in the shower.Or before that — much before.Maybe I always knew, and only now had the courage to see it.