Unbound - Rachel's Story
Copyright© 2025 by A Kiwi Guy
Chapter 14
Almost despite herself, Rachel was on edge for much of Friday. A flutter of excitement sat uncomfortably alongside a nagging anxiety she couldn’t shake. She was about to meet Matt’s parents. Part of her looked forward to it — the idea of being welcomed into his family circle made her heart swell. Yet another part whispered doubts.
Would they have reservations about their son becoming very fond of a paraplegic woman? And what if marriage should ensue, would the thought of that be a deal-breaker? Her mother’s warning echoed in the back of her mind: He could be stringing you along, Rachel. Don’t let him take advantage. Rachel shook her head at the thought. That didn’t line up with the Matt she knew. He hadn’t tried to push boundaries — if anything, he had been the one drawing them. And she had nothing material to offer him, no money, no status. Just herself.
Still, the nerves bubbled close to the surface. By the time Matt’s car pulled up, Rachel had almost talked herself into backing out. But when he stepped from the driver’s seat, smiling as if she were the only person in the world, and kissed her with his characteristic thoroughness, the darker thoughts receded. Once her luggage and chair were stowed, the die was cast.
Before lifting her into the passenger seat, Matt paused, studying her.
“You seemed a bit anxious just now. Is something wrong?”
Rachel forced a small laugh. “No, Matt. At least, nothing beyond some stupid imaginings.”
He let it rest until the Friday-afternoon traffic was behind them and they were gliding north on the motorway. Then, in his calm, steady voice:
“So ... what’s troubling you, my precious lady?”
She bit her lip. “It probably sounds silly, but ... I don’t know your parents. They’ve never met me. What if they ... have reservations about our relationship?”
Matt’s answer came without hesitation. “I can understand why you’d worry. Some families might struggle with it. But mine isn’t like that. I’ve already talked things over with them. If we ever did get really serious—” he reached for her hand on the console “—they would welcome you with open arms. One hundred and one per cent.”
Rachel blinked quickly, touched. “They must be exceptional people.”
“They are. Trust me. Now, have you driven out this way before?”
He gently steered the conversation to easier ground: the family property, the flat stretches of pasture, the animals his father tended, the constant battle with the nor’westers that sucked moisture from the land. Rachel listened, thankful for the change of subject, and slowly her tension began to ebb.
It was only forty-five minutes later when Matt turned into a wide driveway lined with shelter trees. A two-storey house came into view, gracious and solid. He pulled up before the front door just as a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out to greet them.
“Rachel, it’s so wonderful to meet you at last!” boomed Geordie, his smile stretching ear to ear. “I can tell you, Matt has almost become a bore singing your praises.” His eyes twinkled. “But now I see you for myself — well, he hasn’t exaggerated.”
He swung open the passenger door, lifted Rachel with an ease that surprised her, and settled her into the chair Matt had brought around.
“Don’t worry about the bags now, Matt,” Geordie said cheerfully. “Come in and say hi to Caroline.”
Rachel allowed herself to be wheeled up a neat little ramp beside the steps and into a broad hallway. A glimpse of a sunlit kitchen, a warm scent of baking — homely details that settled her nerves a little.
But the moment she was brought into the lounge, the world shifted.
“Rachel,” Geordie said, his voice softening, “let me introduce my beautiful wife, Caroline.”
Rachel turned — and froze.
The elegant woman in the centre of the room spun her chair around with practised ease. A wheelchair. She’s in a wheelchair.
“Rachel, it’s so lovely to finally meet you,” Caroline said warmly, wheeling forward with open hands.
Rachel’s eyes widened. Shock burned through her. “Is this some sort of set-up?” she cried. “Some charade to put me at ease?” Her voice rose, trembling. “If so, it’s in very bad taste.” And before she could stop herself, hot tears spilled down her cheeks.
Caroline reached her swiftly, wrapping her arms around the younger woman with surprising strength.
“No, Rachel, my dear. This is not a stunt. It’s real. I truly am a paraplegic — just like you.” Her voice was gentle, steady, filled with compassion.
Matt knelt on Rachel’s other side, laying a tentative arm across her shoulders, but wisely letting his mother lead. It was several minutes before Rachel’s sobs eased. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, her breath still uneven.
“But why?” she whispered, turning to Matt. “Why did you keep this from me?”
Matt met her gaze steadily, though his voice was low. “For a few reasons. Mostly ... I wanted you to know that I saw you — Rachel — not a reflection of my mother. I didn’t want you to ever think I was drawn to you because of some similarity. You’re your own person. Our relationship is ours, without echoes or add-ons.”
Rachel turned away, wheeling slowly to the broad picture window that looked out across the paddocks, now burnished by late-afternoon light. The silence in the room stretched, thick with unspoken things. At last, she turned back, eyes shining but steady.
“My first instinct was to ask you to take me home right away. I felt ... blindsided. Like the butt of some terrible joke.”
Matt’s breath caught, a flicker of hurt crossing his face, but he stayed silent.
Rachel wheeled forward a little, addressing Caroline now. “But your words ... they brought me back. You said, ‘This is real’. And you didn’t just mean your chair. You meant all of it. This situation — our meeting, this discovery — is real. And we can either run from it and let it poison everything, or we can embrace it and face whatever comes.”
There was a long pause, then: “For better or worse, I choose to face it.”
Matt exhaled a long, shaky breath. Relief mingled with awe at her courage.
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