CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER 5

As they arrived home, the steady throbbing in Ethan's palm served as a continuous reminder of how quickly things may go wrong. Each throb of anguish served as a flashing neon sign, telling him not to take the delicate calm he had discovered with Lila for granted.

He flexed his tightly bandaged fingers, wincing at the strain of torn tissue and muscle beneath the bandage. An accident like this could have been terrible for someone who relied on his hands to make money. As it was, the forced idleness and reliance on others irritated every fiber of his steadfast independence.

But as Ethan watched Lila painstakingly prepare his antibiotic prescription, he felt a weird sense of serenity. The awkward, stiff quiet that had existed between them for so long had ended. In its place was a newfound ease, an understanding rooted in shared vulnerability.

Lila looked up, her beautiful eyes searching his face as she extended the small paper cup containing capsules. _"Time for your meds,"_ she signed, her fingers moving with practiced ease.

Ethan acknowledged the cup with a grunt before chucking back the tablets and following them with a swallow of lukewarm coffee. He made a frown at the bitter debris but did not complain. This was the price he paid for his carelessness: a regular reminder to be more present and alert.

Lila moved unhurriedly, almost comfortably, as she cleared away what was left on the kitchen counter. As if she had finally found her place in this dilapidated mansion that had once been a home.

Ethan felt a stab of grief in his chest as he observed her, realizing how much of her youth had been marked by loss and turbulence. How many nights had she spent in this kitchen, her small hands scribbling chaotic requests into the air as he stubbornly retreated into his sorrow?

Too many.

His jaw tightened, the muscle ticking with the weight of his sorrow. She is eighteen years old, and his little girl has already gone through more pain than most people do in a lifetime. He should have been there for her, battled through his anguish to show her she wasn't alone.

However, it was impossible to change the past. All he could do now was stumble forward, one shaky step at a time, hoping it wasn't too late to make amends.

The unsettling memories faded as Lila turned, her gaze meeting his with a curious tilt of her head. _"Everything okay?"_ Her fingers formed the words with a delicate worry that tugged on his heartstrings.

Ethan forced a stiff smile and an involuntary nod. "Yes, Lila. "I'm fine." The affection flowed out without consideration, like a ghost of the warmth they had previously enjoyed.

Lila's face lit up with surprise, and her hands remained still in mid-gesture. But as the moment passed, the corners of her mouth curled into a faint, tremulous smile.

An uneasy silence stretched between them, heavy with all the things left unsaid. Ethan shifted in his chair, groaning as his bandaged hand throbbed with protest.

Lila narrowed her gaze and took a step nearer, her fingers already weaving intricate sign language patterns. _"How is the pain?" "Do you need something stronger?"_

Ethan began to shake his head dismissively, but the words died on his tongue as memories of the past hour surfaced...

_The searing anguish as the sharpened blade tore through flesh and muscle...the gut-churning crunch of steel against bone...blood, sticky and viscous, covering his quivering fingers..._

He stared, his throat dry, as a scorching surge of imagined anguish lanced up his arm. A muscle ticked along his jaw as he tightened his teeth, desperate not to appear weak.

But Lila's sharp glance had already detected his unease. With a grim determination, she moved to the cabinet above the stove and took the bottle of strong painkillers, shaking two capsules into her palm.

_"Take these,"_ she said, pushing them to him with an air of finality that brooked no debate. _ "You'll feel better."_

Ethan felt a flash of defiance within him, an entrenched, knee-jerk reaction to being told what to do. His jaw clenched, preparing to dismiss her worry with a rough answer.

But, as his gaze met Lila's, he noticed something that made him pause. A strong protectiveness stemmed from a profound knowledge that resonated deeply within his weary spirit. This was her way of reaching out and bridging the distance that had formed between them over the years.

With a tired sigh, Ethan succumbed and accepted the given medication with a silent nod of gratitude. He slammed back the medicines, already anticipating the lovely sleep they would provide.

Lila's shoulders sagged slightly as if exhaling. She started sweeping away the residual debris on the tabletop, her movements slower and more deliberate as the quiet stretched between them.

But this time, the wordless silence didn't feel as oppressive. There was an undercurrent of... not quite comprehension, but perhaps the first timid signs of acceptance.

As Ethan watched Lila's skilled fingers work, something in his chest relaxed - a tangled knot of pain and regret that had grown over the years. It wasn't much, but it was the beginning. A tiny fracture in the barriers he had painstakingly built to keep the world away.

He blinked, his eyesight blurring slightly as the drugs took effect. A bone-deep fatigue came over him, the weight of too many fights won and wounds built up eventually catching up with him.

Lila paused in her tidying, her keen eyes taking in his strangely relaxed expression. Concern appeared on her face as she made a cautious step towards him.

Ethan brushed her away with a dismissive flip of his good hand. "'M'fine, Lila," he murmured, the words beginning to slur. "Just need to rest these old bones for a bit."

He didn't see Lila's remark, and his heavy eyelids slipped closed on their own. But in that foggy stage between awareness and slumber, he swears he felt the gentle weight of her palm on his shoulder, a subtle assurance that she would keep an eye on him.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Ethan succumbed to the seduction of sleep with no fight. There would be no nightmares to disrupt his sleep tonight, no crushing weight of pain and remorse. Only the steadying presence of the one person who had stood by him through everything, solid and unyielding.

As the medicines dragged him into blessed unconsciousness, Ethan's weakened heart grew faintly hopeful. The path to mending and forgiveness lay before them, rough and dangerous.

But this time, they wouldn't be walking alone.

Ethan's quiet snores filled the little kitchen as the painkillers kicked in, easing the lines of strain from his weather-beaten features. Lila watched over him for a few more moments, an unnamed emotion building in her chest.

With a loving smile, she carefully placed a faded duvet over her father's sleeping figure before walking down the corridor to her bed. As she snuggled beneath the covers, exhausted yet strangely at ease, she couldn't help but feel a glimmer of optimism ignite within her.

Tomorrow would be a fresh day, another opportunity to continue narrowing the gap between them, one small victory at a time. This time, she wouldn't be treading that route alone.