Lucy's recovery was progressing, but it was a constant balancing act. The physical therapy was grueling, and the emotional scars from the shooting were still fresh. Each day brought its own set of challenges, and Lucy was learning to accept that her path to recovery would be gradual.
One morning, as she was working on exercises with her physical therapist, Tim sat nearby, watching with a mixture of admiration and concern. He had become accustomed to the routine, and while he knew it was necessary, it was still difficult to see her struggle.
After the session, Lucy wiped the sweat from her brow, looking over at Tim with a weary smile. "I didn't realize how exhausting this would be."
Tim walked over, wrapping her in a supportive hug. "You're doing great. It's a tough road, but you're stronger than you think."
Lucy sighed, leaning into him. "Sometimes I feel like I'm not making enough progress. I want to be back to my old self, but it's like I'm moving in slow motion."
Tim gently lifted her chin, meeting her eyes. "You're making more progress than you realize. It's okay to have bad days. What matters is that you keep moving forward."
Lucy nodded, appreciating his unwavering support. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."
