His Last Chance

After curing my fiancé Eugene's five-year paralysis, I discovered he'd hired a college girl as his "practice partner." Tabloids buzzed about the Thorne heir dragging her into his room nightly, her moans echoing through halls. When I confronted him, his excuse was pitiful: "Vivienne, I needed to regain stamina before marrying you. Just 99 more days." On day 91, I arrived with my acupuncture kit—only to hear him promise to keep her potential baby: "Vivienne's just an orphan my family took in. What right does she have?" My trembling hands returned the silver needle to its case. I never told him: missing nine consecutive treatments would make his paralysis return permanently. Today was his last chance. 01 The sounds from the room—panting, moans—grew louder, more grating. I couldn't listen anymore. I turned to leave, but my shoulder brushed against a vase on a pedestal by the door. The shattering porcelain startled Eugene. He threw the door open, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw my own, red and brimming with tears. "You heard all of that?" I managed a tight, painful nod, my throat closing up. Before I could speak, he did. "Well, since you heard, there's no point in hiding it." His tone was matter-of-fact. "I don't believe in abortion. The pregnancy was an accident, and it would be inconvenient for Chloe to raise a child while she's still in school. After we're married, we'll just register the baby under your name." I stared at his entitled expression, my mind a complete blank. When had the man who once cherished my every mood become so utterly careless with my feelings? He had spent five years in that wheelchair. To speed his recovery, I had spent every moment I wasn't performing acupuncture right by his side. Five years, day in and day out. He knew me better than anyone. And still, he chose to test my limits with one cruel absurdity after another. Seeing my silence, Eugene grew impatient. "You're a healer, Vivienne. Surely you're not going to hold a grudge against an unborn child." I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye and looked at the man I had once adored. "Of course, I wouldn't. It's just… I'm not good enough for you now. Let's just use this opportunity to call off the engagement. You can marry Chloe." His face tightened instantly. He lunged forward, his fingers digging into my wrist. "You'd break off our engagement over something so trivial? Don't you realize everything I've done has been for you?" He spun around, dragging a disheveled Chloe from the room. He yanked at her silk robe, tearing it open to reveal a canvas of angry marks and fading bruises across her skin. "Do you see this, Vivienne?" he demanded. "In the heat of the moment, I can't always control myself. These scars should have been on your body. But I couldn't bear to hurt you, so I used Chloe to practice. She's sacrificed so much for you. Why can't you accept her child?" His sanctimonious speech made my vision go red. He was cheating on me, blatantly, yet he framed it as a noble act done in my name. "It's okay," Chloe murmured, her voice trembling. "This baby shouldn't exist anyway. I'll get rid of it, so it doesn't upset Vivienne." She looked at me, her eyes wide and pleading. "Our contract is up in nine days, Mr. Thorne and I. For all my hard work, could you please just… stop trying to get his attention with these little games?" Her words seemed to remind Eugene of his own timeline. His tone softened slightly. "Vivienne, we agreed. After the 99 days, I'm all yours. I'll spend these last nine days with Chloe, making it up to her. You should go start planning our wedding." At the words "making it up to her," Chloe's voice turned syrupy. "Oh, Mr. Thorne… does that mean you'll take me horseback riding? And hiking in the mountains?" 02 Eugene chuckled, pinching her chin lightly. "You've given so much for the sake of my happiness with Vivienne. Of course, I'll grant you a few small requests." Chloe shot me a look over his shoulder, a flicker of triumph on her flushed face. "Would you like to join us, Vivienne?" I laughed coldly to myself. Enjoy these last nine days, Chloe. Squeeze every last drop of fun out of them. You won't get another chance. "No, thank you," I said softly. I turned to leave, but Chloe's hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. I frowned, and in the next instant, she threw herself to the ground. Before I could even process what had happened, she was looking up at Eugene, her eyes filling with tears. "Mr. Thorne, please don't be angry with Vivienne. I'm sure she's just upset, that's why she—" Eugene didn't let her finish. He charged forward, slamming his body into mine. I stumbled backward, caught completely off guard. My hand landed directly on the sharp shards of the broken vase. A blinding pain shot up my arm, and a scream tore from my throat. But Eugene didn't even look at me. He was already cradling Chloe, his expression a mask of tender concern. When he finally turned his gaze on me, his eyes were chips of ice. "Vivienne, how could you be so vicious? Apologize!" I stared at him, stunned. I didn't know what hurt more—the gash in my palm or the stone of betrayal crushing my chest, making it hard to breathe. During the five years I cared for him, the words he said most often were: "Vivienne, you're so kind. Whether I ever walk again or not, I will always protect you." When he first stood up from the wheelchair, he was so ecstatic he tried to lift me up and spin me around. "Vivienne, I can walk! You're my lucky star. I swear, for the rest of my life, I will never let you suffer." I was just as happy as he was, waiting for him to fulfill his promise and marry me. Instead, I got a sugar baby. When I found out, he knelt before me, begging. "Vivienne, I promised you'd never suffer any hardship, not even in our marriage bed." I begged him to end this ridiculous charade. I warned him that his legs couldn't handle too much strain so soon, or he'd risk a relapse. He reacted as if I'd struck him. "I'm trying to give you the perfect wedding night, and you're cursing me to be paralyzed again? Vivienne, when did you become so malicious?" He was the one who called me kind. He was the one who now called me malicious. From that day on, he paraded Chloe around openly, showering her with affection. Just like now, he condemned me without a single question. "I didn't push her." I wouldn't admit to something I didn't do. "Mr. Thorne, my stomach!" Chloe suddenly shrieked. "It hurts so much! Take me to the hospital!" Eugene forgot everything else. He swept her into his arms and rushed out the door. My palm was bleeding freely, but he didn't spare me a single glance. There was a time when, if I pricked my own finger during his acupuncture sessions, he would fuss over me, calling a doctor to tend to the tiny wound. He used to say my hands were precious, that they were meant to heal people and had to be protected. The ping of a text message broke my reverie. [Vivienne. This time, you have to come with me.] I stared at the number, one I hadn't seen in five years. Without hesitation, I typed back: [Okay.] I bandaged my own wound and was about to pack my things when Eugene returned. His face was a thundercloud. He grabbed me without a word and dragged me to his car. He didn't speak the entire drive, until we screeched to a halt outside a slick downtown bar. "Today is Chloe's birthday," he said, his voice flat. "You hurt her. You're going to go in there and apologize." He hauled me out of the car and into a private room, shoving me so hard that my knees slammed against the floor. I gasped, cold sweat beading on my forehead. I looked up to see Chloe perched on a sofa, flanked by a few other college girls. One of them lined up several bottles of red wine in front of me. Chloe let out a little laugh. "Vivienne, thank you for coming to my birthday party. Drink all of this, and I'll forgive you for pushing me." I looked at Eugene in disbelief. He simply folded his arms. "You did something wrong. You have to accept the punishment." 03 My fingernails dug into my wounded palm. A sharp, acidic pain bloomed in my chest. He knew. He knew I had a severe alcohol allergy. I pushed myself to my feet, my body trembling with defiance. "I didn't push her. And I am not drinking." Eugene's face turned to stone. "Vivienne, you almost made her miscarry. Forcing you to drink a few bottles of wine is a mercy." He gave a slight nod, and two of the girls grabbed my shoulders, holding me down while a third forced a bottle to my lips. I struggled, kicking and thrashing, but it was no use. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eugene wrap an arm around Chloe, whispering something that made her smile sweetly up at him. My heart seized. The alcohol burned my throat like a blade. My breathing grew shallow, ragged. Panic clawed at me. I looked at Eugene, a silent plea for help. He glanced at me once, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, before turning his back and leading Chloe out of the room. As soon as they were gone, one of the girls grabbed my face, her grip vicious. "You think an orphan like you can compete with Chloe for a man? I'll pour this down your throat until you drown in it." "Chloe said once she's Mrs. Thorne, she'll get us all positions at Thorne Corp." My parents aren't dead, I wanted to scream. They're on a classified ten-year mission. I glared at them, summoning my last ounce of strength to shove the girls away. But as I staggered to my feet, a wine bottle smashed against the back of my head. The world exploded in a shower of black stars. My last conscious thought was of Eugene's retreating back. "Eugene," I whispered into the darkness, "I don't love you anymore…" When I opened my eyes again, Eugene was sitting by the hospital bed. A flash of relief crossed his face when he saw I was awake, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. "Vivienne, Chloe almost miscarried. If she'd pressed charges, it would have been a real problem for you." "There are only eight days left," he said, his voice softer now. "Then I'll be back by your side. I'll plan the most magnificent wedding for us." I looked at him, a bitter, mocking smile on my lips. Was it so hard for him to admit he'd fallen for Chloe? I would never marry him now, but my throat was so swollen I couldn't form the words. My cold expression seemed to irritate him. He was about to say something else when Chloe herself walked in. "Oh, Vivienne, I'm so sorry," she said, holding up my medical kit. "I was curious about your acupuncture tools, and I accidentally… well, they bent." "And this box of cream…" she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I don't know what it is, but the smell made me want to vomit, so I flushed it down the toilet." She spoke while clutching her nose, as if the memory of the scent was still torturing her. My gaze fell on my precious kit and the empty box that had held the proprietary Osseous Unguent. The pain in my body was nothing compared to the sharp, cold fury that sliced through me. I launched myself out of bed and snatched the items from her hands. The custom-made silver needles, a family heirloom passed down for three hundred years, were all bent and twisted. The box of unguent was empty. I couldn't contain my rage any longer. I swung my hand back to slap her. But just as my palm was about to connect with her cheek, another hand intercepted mine, striking my own face with brutal force. I stared at Eugene in shock. He looked down at his own hand, a flicker of disbelief in his eyes, before his brow furrowed in annoyance. "It was just a set of needles and some leftover cream. Is that any reason to lose your temper?" I clutched my stinging cheek, my voice a raw rasp. "Eugene, have you forgotten? The legs you were paralyzed in for five years… they work because of that set of needles and that cream." "And you knew," I whispered, the words tearing at my raw throat. "You knew they were all I have left of my mother. You knew how important they were." A flicker of unease crossed his face. He remembered. He remembered what I had told him. The art of neuro-acupuncture was a secret passed down through my mother's family for centuries. But the key to his recovery, the true miracle, was the Osseous Unguent.

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