I adjusted the pillow behind my head. When she tried to come over to help, I raised my hand in the air and stopped her, keeping the attention on her. “Why did you take this job, Whitney?”

She cleaned her face again before answering, “I’ve feared change ever since losing him. It terrifies me, honestly. But if I hadn’t left that hospital, I would have been there forever, whittling away until there was nothing left of me.”

“But I’m another reminder.”

She sat at the end of the bed, staring at her hands for a few seconds. “Technically, yes, but when this job ends—and I know it will, one day soon—I’m going to watch you walk across this whole condo without any assistance.” The emotion returned—this time, it was much warmer and without any tears. “Caleb, you’re going to be my success story. The one I’d prayed so hard for, but David never got.”

I couldn’t reach her, so I held out my hand. She moved closer, and I clenched her fingers, like she had done to me this morning. The hurt was still so present on her face, but it was dying down, returning to where it constantly lived in her heart.

When I had been screaming out in pain this morning, I never would have known she was silently suffering her own torture. We were in two different places in our lives, fighting the wind and current, aiming for that beautiful horizon. And somehow, we had found each other, and as she’d already said many times, we were going to battle this together.

“Whitney,” I started, taking in that gorgeous brown, trying like hell to spread a blanket onto her, “David’s accident wasn’t your fault. I’m positive I’m not the first person to tell you that, but I can see the guilt you carry, and I know my words won’t change how you feel, not when you’re weighed down by something that heavy.”

I brushed my thumb across her knuckles, wanting her to sense this, not just hear it. “Sitting in front of me is someone I admire and respect tremendously, a woman who puts everyone before herself. If you learn anything from being here, I hope it’s the importance of your happiness and that it needs to come first, trumping everything else, even the guilt.”

There was heat coming off her skin, replacing the iciness I had previously felt.

“Whenever I’m around you, you identify the fear that’s eating at me, and you push me through it, filling me with this immense amount of courage. My physical therapists, the other nurses and doctors—none of them have that ability or have made me want to push this hard.” I squeezed her. “Only you.”

Her eyes were finally beginning to light up.