Here, Maya and her grandmother continued to care for Alex, the injured stranger they had found. Despite their best efforts, Alex's demeanor was far from grateful. He was curt and ungrateful, refusing Maya's help at every turn and often responding to her kindness with rudeness.
"Let me change your bandages, Alex," Maya would say gently, only to be met with a brusque, "I can do it myself."
Alex's guarded nature and sharp words didn't deter Maya. She could see the pain and fear behind his eyes, sensing that his harshness was a shield against vulnerability. Despite his resistance, Maya remained patient and kind, determined to see him healed.
One afternoon, as Maya entered the room with a fresh bowl of broth, Alex turned away, his face set in a scowl. "I don't need your help," he muttered.
"You need to eat to regain your strength," Maya insisted softly, setting the bowl on the bedside table.
"I said I don't need your help," Alex snapped, his frustration boiling over. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"
Maya took a deep breath, her patience unwavering. "I can't leave you alone because you're still injured. You won't survive out there in your condition."
Alex glared at her, but he knew she was right. He hated feeling weak and dependent, especially on someone he didn't know or trust. Yet, despite his rudeness, Maya's care remained consistent, her kindness a steady presence that slowly began to chip away at his defenses.
Days turned into weeks, and though Alex's physical wounds were healing, his attitude remained prickly. He insisted on trying to walk before he was ready, and Maya had to catch him more than once as he stumbled.
"You need to take it slow," she advised, helping him back to bed after yet another failed attempt.
"Why do you care?" Alex grumbled, wincing as he settled back. "You don't even know me."
Maya met his gaze steadily. "I care because it's the right thing to do. Everyone deserves help when they need it, even if they don't want to admit it."
Alex looked away, her words striking a chord deep within him. He had spent so long surrounded by betrayal and violence that kindness felt foreign, even suspicious. But Maya's sincerity was undeniable, and despite his efforts to push her away, he found himself reluctantly relying on her care.
One evening, as the sun set and cast a warm glow over the village, Maya sat by Alex's bedside, reading a book. Alex watched her silently, wrestling with his conflicting emotions. Her patience and unwavering kindness had begun to affect him in ways he couldn't understand or accept.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked suddenly, his voice softer than usual.
Maya looked up, surprised by the change in his tone. "Because you need help, and I can provide it. That's all."
Alex frowned, struggling to find the right words. "I... I've been through a lot. It's hard for me to trust anyone."
"I understand," Maya replied gently. "But you don't have to go through this alone. Let us help you."
Alex sighed, the fight draining out of him. For the first time, he allowed himself to truly accept Maya's help. He let her change his bandages, bring him meals, and support him as he slowly regained his strength.