Looking at himself in the mirror, Robert Sheppard tried to remember when he had gotten so old. Where did those wrinkles come from? Why was his hair thin and gray, when last it was thick and brown? When did age spots begin to freckle his face, and pajamas hang so loosely from a frame that used to be strong and muscled? He held up his right hand, now curled permanently under, and shook his head at the disfigurement. He had yet to master being left-handed, and he doubted he ever would. With a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair and hobbled back to bed. Joanna would bring him breakfast soon, and that would be the highlight of his day.

She looked so beautiful in the morning. Well rested, her cheeks would be rosy and her eyes bright. She would chatter away, trying to cram everything she wanted to say into a few short minutes before she had to rush off to work, and her animations would make him smile. From there, Robert’s day would go downhill. The caregivers who visited were mere babysitters, put there by the National Health Service to assist in his care. They administered medication, helped him in and out of bed when necessary, and half-heartedly insisted he perform his physical therapy. Some would not take no for an answer when he balked at their orders, and he liked them the most even though he never showed it. It meant they cared.

Late in the evening, Joanna would return. Looking exhausted and disheveled, she’d still listen to every word he had to say. Laugh in all the right places. Roll her eyes at his stubbornness, and try her best not to show him just how tired she really was. He hated that his body had withered. He hated that his memory failed him daily, but most of all he hated what he was doing to his daughter. Joanna had been young and vibrant once, but his health had caused her to become old. To turn worn and faded like the upholstery of the lone chair that sat in his room. He couldn’t believe his life had turned out like this.

As a young man growing up in Cardiff, Robert Sheppard was as ambitious as they came. Handsome, strong, and charming, he took a part-time job at an estate agent’s office one summer, and it eventually became his career. With charisma that could sway the staunchest buyer, he sold properties deemed unsellable, and determined to make a name for himself, Robert’s focus was only on his career until Moira O’Reilly walked into his life a few days after his thirty-fifth birthday.