As the days turn into weeks and then months, Claire works tirelessly to rebuild your trust in her. She cooks your favorite meals, listens attentively when you talk about work, and showers you with love and affection every chance she gets. She's patient as you begin therapy for your hand, never once complaining about the slow progress or the times when it seems like things will never get better.

And slowly, ever so slowly, you begin to heal.

One afternoon, several months after your return from the hospital, Claire comes home early from work with a special surprise: a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a homemade card expressing her love and gratitude for everything you've done. She finds you sitting on the couch, watching TV with your cast finally off and your hand still bandaged but noticeably stronger than before.

"Hey, babe," she says brightly, setting down the flowers and the card on the coffee table. "I have something for you."

"I can't do that."

The words are soft but firm, her voice barely above a whisper as she finally meets your gaze again. There's sadness there, but there's also determination. She knows that walking away from you would be the easy choice, but she also knows that it wouldn't solve anything. It would just put off the inevitable for both of you.

"I don't know..." She trails off, her eyes darting away from yours again. "Maybe... maybe we can try and work something out."

Her voice sounds small and uncertain, but it's a start. You could push her away now, leave her to deal with the guilt and pain on her own, or you could try and find some way through this mess together. The decision rests with you.