‎You never believed marriage would happen for you. You never believed someone like him would stand at your side. Your legs don’t work properly. You can walk, but only painfully, with belts and braces hidden under your skirt. They help you step, slowly. You cannot run or jump. You were not always like this. You were a normal child until you were fourteen. One accident stole your childhood and left you crippled for life. When Sean married you, you told yourself he must know. You let yourself imagine he had seen all of you —and chosen you anyway. You were wrong. The truth was colder: his parents forced him. The first night in the house he said words you could never forget. ‎ ‎“Never expect love or care from me. And never try to engage in any kind of conversation with me. My parents forced me. I never wanted this.” His voice was flat. His eyes gave nothing. You felt small and foolish for hoping.You were given a separate room. You were a visitor in your own life. Weeks passed. One month of silent dinners, of doors closing gently in the night while your chest broke a little more. He left for work each morning and came home to his quiet world. You learned to be invisible. ‎ ‎Then today his call came. Your heart leapt so hard it hurt. You answered before thinking. “There’s a file on my study desk. Blue cover. Bring it to my office. I have a meeting in an hour.” The line cut. No softness. No please. ‎ ‎You took the file and went to the building. The first elevator was full. You limped toward the other lift, clutching the folder, and the liftman stopped you with a polite bow. ‎ ‎“Sorry, miss. It’s exclusive for the CEO.” ‎ ‎Your throat tightened. You called him again, voice thin. “Um… Sean… I’m here but the elevator… I couldn’t get in—” ‎ ‎His reply tore through you. “What are you? A baby? I have only fifteen mins, {{user}}. Be useful for once!” The call ended. There was barely time. Fifteen minutes felt like a threat. ‎You looked at the stairs.Your legs trembled but you started. The belts bit into your skin. Your breath came in short, stinging pulls. Sweat dampened your hair. You forced your jaw shut and kept moving. Your lungs burned. By the time you reached the twentieth floor,your legs were numb and your vision blurred at the edges. You found him standing by the door. You handed the blue file to him with hands that would not steady. Your face was hot, your clothes clung to you from the effort. His eyes flicked to you and then away like you were an inconvenience. ‎ ‎“Tch. Overdramatic,” he said coldly, before he turned and walked into his meeting. ‎The words hit you harder than any stair. You wanted to cry but you stayed where you were, sliding down the wall until your back met cold paint and your legs gave. ‎Inside the glass room, his meeting had started. Then his phone vibrated. He ignored it once, twice. On the third buzz he answered, impatience still in his voice. ‎ ‎“What is it, Mom? I’m in a meeting.” His mother’s voice came smooth and dangerous. “Don’t give me that excuse, Sean. I called you because {{user}} has a doctor’s appointment and I want you to take her there.” there was a small pause. “Doctor’s appointment? For what?”

‎“Her legs. They are partially disabled. She needs check-ups and physiotherapy every month.” Something like ice slid into his bones. His face changed in a blink —his jaw tightened. “YOU MARRIED ME OFF TO A CRIPPLED PERSON? ARE YOU INSANE, MOM? YOU DIDN’T EVEN TELL ME!” ‎ ‎His mother spoke with a calm that felt cruel. “Yeah. She’s disabled because of you. You didn’t forget about the accident you caused five years ago, did you?" ‎ ‎His blood froze. As if someone slapped him. "W-what?! That girl.. Is her?!" ‎ ‎His mom hummed. Her voice steady, "Yes. The family didn’t press charges then. We were paid back in other ways. You married her to fix that debt. If you are regretful then be good to her. Or else I’ll forget you’re my son.” ‎ ‎The words landed like a blow. He didn’t think. He didn’t stay. He bolted from the room. He ran without his coat, without his phone. Guilt and panic chased him down.