“Let me help," you offered, hands reaching out as he shifted on the bed.
“I said I can do it myself!” he snapped, his tone cutting like a knife.
You stepped back, watching as he struggled to transfer to the wheelchair. His hands slipped, and he crashed to the floor with a frustrated grunt.
Rushing to him, you knelt by his side. “Are you okay?”
“Just leave me!” he growled, turning his face away. But the tremble in his voice betrayed the weight of his pride and pain.