Three years ago, my life was perfect. My modeling career was soaring, my dreams were within reach. I was about to sign a major contract, becoming the brand ambassador for a renowned company. Then, a car accident changed everything. The brakes failed, and the car plummeted. My career was shattered, and I faced a harsh reality: I was paralyzed from the waist down.
Rehabilitation was brutal. Painful physiotherapy, overwhelming frustration, and a haunting question: "How should I move on with my life?”
Julius, my fiancé, was always there. His proposal amidst my struggles became a media sensation. Everyone praised my good fortune, but only I knew the fight behind it. I underwent therapy in secret, determined to walk again, to be worthy of him.
Miraculously, slowly but surely, I recovered. After three years in a wheelchair, my legs healed, and I could walk again.
Today, exactly one week after Julius returned from filming overseas, I wanted to surprise him.
Overwhelmed with happiness, I prepared everything: a bouquet of flowers, a luxurious watch—a gift from my freelance design work—and a new car, a symbol of my resilience. I wanted to show him I never gave up. I did it all for him.
At the airport, I saw him, his smile, his waves. As I waved back, the smile and wave weren't for me. They were for another woman, standing right in front of me. I turned away, my legs freezing.
They were embracing, their affection blatant. It felt like a slap in the face. My legs were healed, but now my heart was broken. My planned surprise had become a deeper wound. The car and the expensive gifts felt meaningless.
Tears streamed down my face. Today, I felt utterly shattered and weak. Veronica, my replacement model, who I thought was just a coincidence, was now standing beside Julius, their hands intertwined. Their car sped away, and I followed, driven by a terrifying curiosity.
They arrived at a luxurious hotel. The cramped elevator felt like an interrogation room. They stood before me, hand in hand, radiating affection. Veronica's voice, sweet and piercing, said, "Does your fiancé know you're back today?"
Julius nodded nervously. Veronica squeezed his hand, "I don't want to know, just these few hours. You're mine."
Those words pierced me like needles. I looked down, pretending to focus on my phone, my heart pounding. Then, Julius's words, cold and cruel, shattered my remaining hope, stained my pure love. "Don't be upset. The cripple never knows where I am, and she never suspects anything."
"The cripple." That label, uttered so coldly by the man I loved, destroyed my last hope. Veronica laughed cruelly, "Thank you, darling. If you hadn't made her a cripple, I might not have been able to push her out of the modeling world."
My phone almost slipped from my grasp. I flinched. They turned, but quickly ignored me.
"Shh! Don't say anything, darling," Julius whispered, panicked.
"Oops! Forgive me, darling," Veronica feigned embarrassment, her apology laced with coquetry.
The elevator felt suffocating. The journey to the upper floor felt like torture.
The elevator doors finally opened. I deliberately held back, refusing to exit. They disappeared behind the hotel room door. A wicked plan formed in my mind.
Hours passed. I waited, patiently and vengefully. A message from Julius arrived: "Don't wait up, darling. I have a meeting with producer Andrew. Rest. When you wake up, I'll be by your side, holding you. Love you."
That lie felt like another slap. Anger surged. My fists clenched. I walked towards the door, wanting to smash it down. My heart shattered into a million pieces.
I turned back, abandoning my urge, deciding to wait for them to come out, with evidence in hand. Evidence that would expose the ugliness behind the sweet smile and proposal of the man I once loved.
Five hours passed—five hours that felt like five centuries. Finally, they emerged. Julius and Veronica, hand in hand, their faces beaming with fake affection. With trembling hands, I activated my phone camera, recording every detail, every touch, every glance of their false love. The perfect moment, the evidence that would destroy them.
Back at home, darkness greeted me. The bouquet of flowers and the luxurious watch—symbols of lies—I rearranged with trembling hands. I decided to pretend to be paralyzed, to pretend to wait for his arrival until I fell asleep. A final act, to trap him and avenge his betrayal.
His footsteps echoed, the lights flickered on, revealing the darkness in the house and in my heart. He approached, kissing my forehead—a touch that once felt warm, now felt repulsive. I smelled his breath, the scent of Veronica's perfume lingered. He looked tired as he went to the bathroom. I quickly wiped my forehead, erasing the trace of his disgusting touch.
As he lay beside me, trying to embrace me, I stretched out my hand, creating a barrier between us. My heart pounded, not with love, but with boiling anger.
The next morning, I woke up first. A fake smile graced my face as I prepared breakfast. Julius hugged me from behind, kissing my neck—a touch I once longed for, now felt like a crawling caterpillar. Disgusting.
"Why didn't you wake me up?" I asked, my voice softened.
He whispered in my ear, his voice laced with regret, "You were sleeping so soundly last night, I didn't dare disturb you, darling." The lie was sweet and sickening.
I looked at him, thanking him for his 'understanding'. "Oh, darling," he said, his voice slightly rushed, "I don't think I can have lunch at home. How about we have dinner at my parents' house?"
"What?" I feigned surprise, my voice rising slightly. "We haven't seen each other or spoken for a week, and now that you're back, you're so busy you don't have time for me?" I emphasized the word 'busy', trying to provoke him.
He leaned in, kissing both my cheeks—a touch that felt cold and empty. "Come on, darling... I'm doing all this for our future. Look, didn't I come straight home to you? Instead of going to my parents' house?" His voice sounded convincing, but his eyes darted away.
"You're the most important person in my life," he added. Ridiculous.
