The light that came in through the windows was what woke me up. I sighed mentally as I felt fatigued down to my bones. It has been almost three weeks since Keith's surgery. He was discharged a week before and I have not left the house since then. Because of the complications, his healing time was way longer than it should have been.

I was sleep deprived and very tired. Taking care of him and doing chores, cooking, watching him and preparing for my exams was taking its toll on me and I was worried for my health.

Hearing the light snoring beside me, I turned to see Keith still asleep. I had temporarily moved into his bedroom so I'd be closer to him just in case he needed something. Thankfully, he was recovering fast. He had stopped vomiting and was able to walk into the bathroom slowly either on his own or with help, mostly the later because I was too scared to take the risk of him falling or anything bad happening. The only reason why I even agreed to that was because he vehemently refused to use the bucket I got for that reason. His words had been I can walk with your help Maya. I am not going to pee in a bucket anymore. And emptying it after I'm done, doesn't that even bother you?

It didn't bother me because he was sick and we had no choice. We took serious care to avoid constipation and the pain had stopped keeping him awake. I was really happy but tired at the same time.

His mum came around everyday to check on him, also looking for a reason to insult my care taking skills. Each time I saw her, i remembered her words and frowned a little. I hadn't had the time to confront my father about what she said because I had my hands full with Keith.

Letting out a deep sigh, I rolled out of bed and dragged myself out of his room to mine so I could shower and put on fresh clothes. Peeing, I wiped and saw a speck of blood of the tissue.

Damn. Let this just be spotting. I can't afford to be on my period right now. I grumbled as I stripped out of the clothes I had on and showered quickly before putting on a jeans and a sweater. I went downstairs and got started on breakfast, wishing I could just sleep some more. When I went back upstairs to wake him up to eat, he was not in his bed and that was when i heard the sound of the shower running.

What the?! I leave the room for 20 minutes and he ups and goes to shower on his own?

Dropping the tray on the bedside table, I rushed into the bathroom and saw him trying to pick up the soap he dropped.

"Don't do that." I shrieked and he glared at me. I didn't pay any attention to that, I just picked the soap, ignored the water that was touching my clothes and got the shower chair I brought for him as I mumbled you should have waited for me. He slapped my hand away when I reached out to take the sponge from him.

"I'm not a fucking invalid so stop treating me like one." He growled and I was taken aback.

"What? I'm not treating you like an invalid."

"Really? Trying to spoonfeed me, peeing in a bucket, bathing me, buying a shower chair. I have legs and can stand to take a shower. I can walk to the bathroom myself. I can feed myself. I can have a shower without your help and I can fucking pick up the damn soap."

I stared at him with wide eyes. "I..I was only trying to help."

"Well I don't need your fucking help."

I was offended. My feelings were hurt because all I did was try to help and somehow, I couldn't even do that right by his standards. I went off, not in a loud voice but I definitely didn't shout.

"Do you think I enjoy doing all that? I tried feeding you only because I thought you were too weak to eat by yourself and when you refused and ate by yourself, did I do that again? No. Telling you to pee in the bucket was me trying to help so that you won't keep walking all the way to the toilet just to pee. Do you think I enjoyed doing that? I only did that because I was trying to help. The chair was to make both our jobs easier when it comes to shower time, and you assume I like bathing you? Everything I did was to avoid taking the chances of you doing something that will rip your stitches open because we will be back to square one. I have exams in a week's time which I'm not prepared for. I should be the one complaining and you should be saying thank you. I've been stuck in here taking care of you for the past three weeks just so you'll heal faster and get back to your usual self so that I can focus on my own exams. I can't afford 3 more weeks of taking care of you just because you ripped your stitches open in a bid to be independent. So excuse me for intentionally treating you as an invalid. Since that's the way you feel, here's your sponge and soap, don't use the chair. Do whatever you like. If you don't want to eat what I made, you can also go downstairs and cook whatever it is you want or better still, call dear old mummy. I'm sure she will come running with help and with a lot to say about me. You know where your drugs are, so you can get them yourself. Have a nice day ahead." I said as I pushed the soap and sponge into his chest before leaving him behind, furiously wiping angry tears that finally dropped.

I went back to my room and sat on my bed, hoping I'd calm down fast. I took deep breaths and after close to five minutes, my heartbeat rate that had increased as a result of me getting angry returned to normal.

Pulling out a fresh pair of jeans and taking off the slightly damp ones, I changed and left my room. On my way downstairs, my phone rang and seeing the caller ID, I frowned.

"Yeah?" I said when I picked and after a moment, he said "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I replied, wanting him yo elaborate. Just I'm sorry wasn't going to cut it. I wanted to know that he was really sorry.

"For everything I said. It was more of transferred aggression and nothing more. I really appreciate all you've been doing for me and I'm happy you're the one helping me through this. That makes it more bearable."

I sighed before muttering "Apology accepted."

After another short pause, he said "I need your help...I dropped the soap again and I can't pick it up."

"I'm coming." I replied and disconnected. I wasn't actually going to leave him all alone in the house because despite what he said, he still needed help. He wouldn't have almost gone back to his normal self if not because of the complications he suffered which resulted in almost two weeks of hospital admission.

So I went up there and helped him finish up, he ate and took his drugs and settled in to work a little on his laptop, being the workaholic that he was, and called the office to know how everything was going, and while he did all this, I focused on my own business, rereading what had already been read and dreading the one full week that I'd write all my papers. When my mind raced back to what Amanda said that day, I shook my head and started talking in my head.

I will not think about that now. I will focus on my books and after my exams are over, I will ask Daddy about it. It can't be true though can it? If Dad dated Amanda in the past and left her for mum, why wouldn't he have foreseen a future when Amanda will hate me and transfer her hate for him to me before making me marry her son? No. I don't believe it.

When my mind went back to those thoughts again, I got distracted for about 5 minutes before I realised I was thanking again. Slapping my palms against my cheeks to get my head back in the game, I thought

Come on Maya. This is your final exam. You can't get distracted now. Focus. Deep breaths. Focus if you don't want to fail.

The f-word made me focus again because if there's one thing I hate so much, it's failure. Even if I had felt like a failure all my life, I had never failed in school and I wasn't going to start failing with my final degree exams.

After close to 30 minutes of peace and understanding, I heard a grumble and then a sigh of annoyance.

"Maya I will punch this cat." Keith grumbled in an irritated voice.

"I thought you love Blinky."

"I do, when I'm not annoyed at being unable to move around freely."

Probably sensing that he was at the verge of being kicked or worse, Blinky jumped off the bed and meowed as it stalked out of the room. A moment later, he said "Maya could you come up in here?" as he patted "my side" of his bed and I did as he asked, careful to not sit with so much force so the bed wouldn't creak.

"Cuddle me?"

"But your stomach..."

"You won't hurt me, and I'll tell you if you do." He reasoned and I nodded and moved in closer. After awkward moments of trying, we finally found the best position that we were both comfortable with which didn't bother his stomach.

I then asked the question that had been bothering me.

"Why are you so...touchy about being cared for like this? About being confined in one position even though it's not permanent? You could have hurt Blinky if you'd ended up kicking him."

When he didn't say anything after a while, I assumed he wasn't going to answer and decided to go back to minding my business when he replied.

"My dad." He started in a low voice. "He was so full of life. He loved everything about the outdoors, loved adventures and was always on the move. He was the best dad ever--" he said with a chuckle before he continued "—he always had time for me. Always took me fishing, camping, hiking, all the cool stuff like that. He was so full of life. But then there was a car crash. He ended up being paralyzed from the neck down. And then the doctors said he may never walk again, never move his hands or neck again. I watched that man who had been so dull of life and so active become so helpless that he had to be bathed, couldn't move to do the basic things in life. I even overheard his conversation with my mum when he told her he wanted his doctor to put him under because he couldn't live like that. That's why—" he took a deep breath and fisted his trembling hand that was between us before he continued "— that's why...why needing your help to do those things bothered me so much. I never want to be in that kind of state. The fact that I had to pee in a bucket or can bathe properly only when you do it bothers me so much. I...I never want to be in that kind of situation." He finished in a whisper and I shivered at how unhappy he sounded. I have never seen this side of Keith. I had no idea he had so much sadness in him.

"I'm sorry. I'll try my best to not panic when you want to do something by yourself while healing alright?" I said and he hmmed before finally giving in to the sleep that he needed. Yawning and suddenly feeling the stress catch up to me and tire me out, I closed my eyes and followed suit. My last thoughts were what happened to his dad? Did he die naturally or did he finally ask the doctor to do it?