Victor's Pov
I sat there for a moment, staring at the manual wheelchair beneath me. It felt like a step backward, a regression into the early days after the accident when everything had been a struggle and nothing came easily.
But Lily was worth it.
I reached for the wardrobe, pulling out my best suit. My hands trembled slightly as I knotted my tie, a combination of nerves and determination.
I gripped the wheel rims—cold metal against my palms—and pushed forward.
The chair moved sluggishly, responding to my efforts with reluctant momentum. My shoulders protested immediately, muscles that had grown accustomed to the ease of motorized transport suddenly remembering what real work felt like.
I pushed again, building speed, trying to find a rhythm. The hallway stretched before me like a marathon course.
This is going to be harder than I thought.
Each push of the wheels required concentration and effort. Sweat began to gather at my temples despite the cool morning air.
