Today was the day Regan finally got to leave the hospital. After three long months of worry and fear, seeing him well enough to go home felt like a miracle. I helped his parents pack up his things, and once we had everything together, we all climbed into the car. Regan settled carefully into his seat, wincing slightly but determined to be strong.
On the way home, I couldn't help but tease him about his cautious, stiff walk. He looked like he was trying to balance on eggshells, and I found myself holding back laughter. But I might have gone a bit too far because, in my excitement, I accidentally brushed his injury. Regan cried out, and I immediately felt guilty.
"Oops! Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you," I said quickly, leaning over to check if he was okay.
Regan rolled his eyes, wincing but smiling. "Right, you just wanted to make me feel the pain again to make sure I'm really alive," he teased, trying to laugh it off.
