Unbound - Rachel's Story
Copyright© 2025 by A Kiwi Guy
Chapter 15
As afternoon tea wound down, Caroline pushed her chair back slightly and clapped her hands together.
“Well, I’d best make a start on dinner. Rachel, would you mind giving me a hand? Two sets of wheels are better than one.”
Rachel was only too willing. Intrigued by the prospect of seeing how Caroline managed daily tasks, she followed her into the kitchen.
The space was unlike any kitchen Rachel had seen before: broad clearways between benches, handles at reachable heights, drawers instead of overhead cupboards, and in the centre a lowered island bench that looked perfectly designed for sitting and working from a chair. Rachel let out a soft whistle.
“This is brilliant. I’ve only ever seen one other kitchen designed like this, at an expo. But this ... this feels like it really works.”
Caroline gave a modest smile as she wheeled to the fridge. “Geordie and I planned it carefully after my accident. Took a bit of trial and error, but it works. I do most of the cooking, though he’s still convinced he does the best steak in Canterbury.”
Rachel laughed and accepted a chopping board Caroline slid towards her. But Caroline leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
“To be truthful, most of the dinner prep is already done. Tonight’s just pasta with a veggie-and-mince sauce. Nothing fancy. What I was really hoping for was...” she paused, eyes twinkling, “ ... a bit of a girl-to-girl chat.”
Rachel froze for a moment, knife hovering above a tomato.
“A chat?”
Caroline caught the flicker of wariness and smiled reassuringly.
“No, sweetie, this isn’t an interrogation. I just want to know more about the woman who has, quite frankly, stolen my son’s heart.”
“‘Stolen’?” Rachel echoed, blinking.
“Have you not noticed? Matt’s been talking about you endlessly these past weeks. Honestly, I was half afraid he’d wear our ears out before we had the chance to meet you ourselves. He’s never been so head-over-heels.”
Rachel’s cheeks coloured. “Well ... yes, our relationship has moved quickly. And he is always attentive. But he doesn’t let me get away with much, either.”
“That’s a good sign,” Caroline said warmly, dicing an onion with efficient strokes. “You want someone who will cherish you but also challenge you. And I suspect you give it back in kind. I saw as much this afternoon when you confronted him about not telling you about me. You weren’t cowed, and that tells me plenty.”
Rachel set down her knife and sighed. “I was distraught at the time. Honestly, I nearly asked him to take me straight home. But when I sat by the window afterwards, I realised something: Matt has never once acted out of anything but care for me. I could see his reasoning. I’ve already forgiven him—though I’ll make sure he hears it properly.”
Caroline nodded approvingly. “He’ll be glad. He was trying not to show it, but he was on tenterhooks all through afternoon tea.” She hesitated, then leaned a little closer. “Tell me honestly, Rachel—what fears are you carrying inside?”
Rachel swallowed. “You do cut to the chase.”
“I only ask because I recognise the look. I wore it myself once.”
Rachel tilted her head. “What fears did you have?”
Caroline grew quiet, her hands stilled on the chopping board. When she spoke, her voice was steady, but laced with memory.
“After the accident? I ran the full gamut. Depression so deep I didn’t think I’d ever crawl out. Anger at my own stupidity for tipping the tractor. Fear that Geordie would decide he hadn’t signed up for this and walk away. Fear that my body was broken beyond children, beyond intimacy. It was a long, dark season.”
Rachel’s eyes filled. She wheeled closer and wrapped Caroline in a fierce hug. Neither spoke for several minutes, but the embrace was eloquent in itself.
When they drew apart, Caroline gave her an encouraging smile. “So?”
Rachel exhaled shakily. “You’re right. I’ve battled similar doubts. When Matt first appeared in my life, I thought he was just being kind to the crippled girl. Then I wondered if I was some sort of project, or worse, a passing curiosity. My mother worried he might be stringing me along. But none of that’s been true. He’s been ... consistent, kind, solid. Still, I can’t help being afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” Caroline asked gently.
Rachel looked down at her hands. “Afraid of daring to imagine a future. Afraid to ask: would he really take on life with a paraplegic wife? That’s no small thing to ask of anyone. And then there are all the questions about intimacy, about children ... will any of it be possible?”
Caroline reached across the island and took her hand. “I can’t give you all the answers, but I can give you mine. Geordie didn’t walk away—he became my greatest champion. He never let me wallow, even when I wanted to. And in some ways, though it took a while, the accident pulled us closer than we’d ever been before. Beforehand, we’d begun to bicker about silly things—my wanting more town life, fewer chores, all that. The accident forced me to rethink everything.”
Rachel blinked away tears as Caroline continued, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.
“And as for intimacy? Let’s just say: you learn new ways, and some of them are better than before. We were blessed with children, yes, even if only one. But even beyond that, our closeness deepened. An orgasm is an orgasm, however it comes,” she finished with a laugh.
Rachel blushed to the roots of her hair, not accustomed to such frank talk, especially from a parent.
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