Three days before my wedding, a car swerved and turned my spine into a shattered ruin. My fiancée, Victoria, made a great show of ensuring the driver was sent to prison. I lay in a hospital bed, a ghost trapped in a broken body, refusing to wake up to the nightmare of my new reality. In that hazy twilight of consciousness, I heard Victoria speaking with my doctor. "Ms. Hayes, if we operate now, we can still save him. A few more days, and Mr. Crawford will be paralyzed for life! You just want Avery as your groom—is it really worth condemning a man to this?" the doctor pleaded, his voice low and urgent. Victoria's reply was ice. "Paralyzed is paralyzed. I'll take care of him for the rest of his life. If he recovers, he'll destroy the wedding." Her voice dropped even lower, a conspiratorial whisper. "I promised Avery I would welcome our child into the Hayes family with all the dignity he deserves. Only when Ethan is completely broken will he love my child as his own. A cripple is manageable. At least he won't be able to hurt my son." In a corner no one was watching, a single tear traced a path from the corner of my eye, disappearing into the pillow. So, this was the truth. The wedding I had anticipated for so long was nothing but an elaborate lie. The love I believed was my salvation was actually my death warrant. Fine. If this is what she wanted, I would play my part. 1 "No more questions. Stick to the plan," Victoria commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. "The vasectomy needs to be clean. I don't want him finding out." "Once he's awake, I'll take him to the children's home to pick up our son. When he knows he can never have children of his own, he will cherish Rosie with all his heart." The doctor wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, his face etched with pity. "Ms. Hayes, please, reconsider. The man is already a paraplegic. This surgery… it's not just his body you're mutilating, it's his spirit. How will he ever hold his head up in front of your family? For God's sake, he's a man…" "Besides," the doctor added, his voice dropping, "your son with Mr. Quinn is three years old now. The boy is the spitting image of you. If Ethan ever finds out, everything will be ruined!" Victoria ignored his plea. She reached over, her movements practiced and steady, and gently wiped my chapped lips with a damp cloth. Her voice was filled with a strange, sorrowful affection. "He won't find out. Once he's a cripple, he'll be confined to the Hayes estate for the rest of his life. He'll never take a step outside those walls." Her voice hardened again. "I promised Avery I would give him a magnificent wedding. I promised I would watch our child grow up. Even if he's married to someone else now, I will never let him face any hardship alone." The doctor let out a long, defeated sigh, his gaze falling on my pale, still face. "Ethan is a good man. You two grew up together… and yet you're still chasing that… never mind. It's your choice. Do as you wish." "Prepare for surgery," she ordered. "And remember: be discreet. I don't want any scars. Do it before Ethan wakes up. I don't want him to feel too much pain." The doctor hurried out of the room. Victoria pulled out her phone and sent a voice message to her assistant. "The driver didn't talk, did he? Pay his family the two million, as we agreed. Help them move out of the state. Make sure Ethan never finds them." Tears streamed uncontrollably from my eyes, soaking the pillow beneath my head. All the while, Victoria continued to gently sponge my body with warm water, yet a profound, bone-deep chill spread through me. So, the wedding I had dreamed of for five years was just a stepping stone for Avery. The car crash was no accident. It was just her, clearing an obstacle for her true love. The happiness I thought was mine was a mirage, a beautiful, fragile bubble. The truth of our relationship was built on a foundation of lies and brutal betrayal. I fought to open my eyes, to scream, to rage. But a sharp prick in my arm was followed by a spreading numbness. Anesthesia. Just before they wheeled me into the operating room, Victoria leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to my lips. "Shh, my love. It will be over soon," she whispered. "I'll be waiting for you, Ethan." The cold, metallic instruments twisted inside me, and my shattered heart turned to ice. When I next opened my eyes, I was back in the private room. Below my waist, there was nothing. No feeling, no sensation. Just a dead weight that used to be my body. Victoria was at my bedside, her face a perfect mask of worry. The moment I stirred, she took my hand, pressing it to her cheek. "Ethan? You're awake! Are you in pain? Does anything hurt?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. "Tell me, and I'll have them change your medication." The same adoring expression she had always worn, but now, her eyes were cold, empty voids. It was astonishing, the lengths one person would go to for another. I shook my head weakly, my hand reaching up to touch her face. "You haven't slept, have you? I'm okay. You should rest." She didn't question it. Seemingly relieved, she relaxed her guard and soon drifted off to sleep in the chair beside me. I reached for her phone on the nightstand. It unlocked with a familiar swipe. The wallpaper was one of our pre-wedding photos, a picture of two people madly in love. Her messaging app was still open. The pinned contact was simply named "Avery." I tapped on it. The chat log was filled with cute cat emojis and dozens of photos of Avery holding a small child. "Rosie was calling for Mommy again today. She's so little but already knows her mom is beautiful. She's going to be a heartbreaker." "Rosie had a great appetite today. She ate the whole cake you sent, all by herself." "Rosie wants to go to the amusement park with her mom. She won't listen to me. Can you find some time to come over?" Victoria hadn't replied in text. But beneath each photo was a log of a two-hour video call. I remembered her telling me once that she didn't like children. I finally understood. It wasn't that she didn't like children. She just didn't want a child with me. She had a private photo album dedicated to Avery. The password was the child's birthday. Five thousand photos chronicled three years of a little boy's life. For every major holiday, every milestone, Victoria was there, by their side. The second chat was with the wedding planning company. From the very beginning, a month ago, the groom's name on all the documents was Avery Quinn. The tuxedo was tailored to his measurements. The invitations were penned in their joint handwriting. From the start, she never intended for me to be at my own wedding. A bitter, self-mocking smile twisted my lips. I didn't need to see any more. I used her phone to contact my best friend, Mark, and told him to find me a hospital abroad, one that could perform a restorative surgery. I also had him begin the process of erasing my identity in this country. Mark didn't ask too many questions. He just assumed I had finally seen Victoria for the monster she was, his messages filled with relief and support for me. I put the phone down and let sleep claim me. I was awakened by the sound of Victoria's heartbroken sobs. She was clutching a hospital report, her shoulders shaking. "Ethan… the doctors… they found something during the tests," she choked out. "It's a congenital condition. You… you can't have children." "But don't worry," she rushed to add, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I don't care. I'll never leave you. No matter what, you will always be my husband." "When you're out of the hospital, we can adopt a child, okay? Having a child around will help you heal. You'll get better, I promise." I was the one who had supposedly lost the ability to have children, but she looked more devastated than I did. Her performance was flawless. I was too tired to call her on it. After a long silence, I looked at the falsified report in her hand and gave a slow, deliberate nod. Tears of gratitude streamed down her face as she pulled me into a tight embrace. "I will take care of you, Ethan. Don't be afraid. No matter what anyone says, I will always be on your side. After we're married, I'll transfer all my assets to your name. As a guarantee." Our chests were pressed together, but our hearts beat to entirely different rhythms. After a moment, she pulled back, her expression hesitant. "It's just… the wedding is all set. With your body still recovering, perhaps we should…" "Find someone to stand in for me," I finished for her. "We can't lose face for the Hayes family." I knew what she wanted. Better to offer it myself than to be maneuvered into it. At least this way, I could retain a shred of dignity. Victoria was stunned by my easy compliance, but with her goal achieved, she didn't press the matter. Her phone buzzed with a notification. She glanced at it, and her brow furrowed. "Ethan, what's this about canceling your official documents?" I quickly swiped the notification away. "It's nothing," I said smoothly. "Just an old ID that expired. It's all done online." She accepted the explanation without another thought, pulling me into an even tighter hug, her voice thick with pity. "You're not well. Anything you need, just tell me. I'll handle it for you." "Victoria," I said, my voice quiet but firm. "I want to go home." A flash of panic crossed her face. "No. You're not recovered. I can't allow it." I gently caressed her cheek, a faint smile playing on my lips. "Didn't you say you wanted to take me to adopt a child? We have nurses at home. Nothing will happen. I just… I want to see the children's home. Please?" In five years together, it was the first time I had ever shown her such vulnerability. She couldn't resist. She softened and agreed. On the way, she pulled out a selection of cakes she had waiting in the car, laying them out for me. She said she'd bought them especially for me. But the label, clearly marked 'Safe for Toddlers,' was another small, sharp sting. I closed the bag and tossed it into the back seat, feigning fatigue and closing my eyes. This five-year charade was about to end. We had just entered the children's home, me in my wheelchair, when a little girl ran up and hugged Victoria's leg, chanting "Mommy, Mommy!" over and over. Victoria's face paled. Fearing my suspicion, she explained hurriedly, "Don't misunderstand. I'm a patron of this home. I've visited a few times, and this little girl is an orphan. She calls me that." I nodded, smiling as I reached out to pat the child's head. "She looks a lot like you. If you hadn't told me, I would have thought she was yours." "What's her name?" "Rosie. She's the one I was planning to adopt." Before she could say more, Rosie started crying, wailing for her "Daddy." Victoria's face went white. She shot a nervous glance at me. "It's fine," I said, my voice calm. "Go comfort her. She's a beautiful child. I like her too." My words were a balm to her panic. She relaxed, scooped the child into her arms, and disappeared into an office. I made an excuse about needing the restroom and wheeled myself away. But as I neared the hallway, I could hear the staff gossiping. "Why is Ms. Hayes making her own kid pretend to be an orphan? That outfit is designer, worth more than my life. Who'd believe she's an orphan?" "You don't get it. This is her plan to get the kid into the family legitimately. Just play along and don't slip up in front of Mr. Crawford." "Figures. Her heart always belonged to Mr. Quinn. They used to volunteer here together back in college. I knew it then. A man and a woman, alone in that office… wonder what they're up to right now…" Their suggestive laughter was a physical weight on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I moved my wheelchair to the office door. I could hear familiar voices from within. "Is she good to you?" It was Avery. "She's fine," another voice replied, a woman's. "She's in another country most of the time, so she can't take care of everything. Which is good. She won't find out about Rosie. She's even talking about having a baby with me." Victoria's voice, laced with a bitter amusement. "Once Rosie is officially a Hayes, you won't have to worry. Just message me if you need anything. Oh, and here. I bought you this watch. A wedding gift." Avery accepted it with a flirtatious wink. "Another gift? We've only been married a year, how many wedding presents is that? My closet is overflowing. Ethan would be upset if he knew." He said it, but his hands moved quickly to secure the gift. Rosie giggled, throwing her arms around him, calling him "Daddy." Just then, the director of the home, eager to process the paperwork, rushed toward me and threw open the office door. A flash of pure panic crossed Victoria's eyes. "Ethan! What are you doing here?" "Don't get the wrong idea," she stammered. "Avery is a volunteer here. He just happened to be visiting today, to talk about me adopting Rosie…" Avery stood up, holding Rosie, and gave me a casual wave. "Ethan. Long time no see." I sat in my wheelchair, forced a smile, and choked back the wave of nausea. "It's fine. I was just looking around. Since you're busy, I won't bother you. I'll wait in the car." I turned and left. Victoria, thinking I was angry, chased after me, offering a flurry of explanations. "Don't misunderstand. He volunteers here all the time. All the kids call him 'daddy.' I'll explain it to Rosie once the adoption is final." Seeing her so flustered on my account was almost funny. She had orchestrated a car crash to paralyze me, all to bring this child into her home. Now that her wish was granted, who was this pathetic, guilt-ridden act for? "Don't worry," I said. "I'm not that unreasonable. You finish the paperwork. I'll be good and wait in the car." She breathed a sigh of relief and watched me go. Every staff member I passed looked at me with an expression of pity and contempt. I ignored them, took out my phone, and finalized the cancellation of my identity. To celebrate bringing Rosie home, the Hayes family held a dinner party. I used my recovery as an excuse to stay upstairs. But the mocking laughter of Victoria's parents drifted up from below. I wheeled myself to the landing. I could see the three of them—a perfect family—at the dining table. Victoria was lovingly placing Rosie's favorite foods on her special plate. Avery was teasing her, saying she would spoil the child rotten. Victoria just smiled, stroking the little tiara in Rosie's hair. "She's my daughter. She could burn the world down, and it would still be her greatest achievement." The dam of suppressed grief inside me finally broke. I went back to my room and began tearing apart every gift Victoria had given me over the past five years, throwing the pieces into the trash. As the bin toppled over, Avery suddenly appeared in the doorway. He kicked my wheelchair, sending me sprawling to the floor. Pain shot through me, and I broke out in a cold sweat. He just grinned down at me. "Hurts, doesn't it, Ethan? Being a broken man." "All these years, and you're still as useless as ever." "Watching your own wedding happen with my name in your place. Watching your wife bring home my son. And you have to just swallow it all. I almost feel sorry for you." I struggled to pull myself up.
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