On the seventh anniversary of our secret marriage, award-winning actor Justice Cain gave the script I'd spent three years perfecting to my older sister, Zoey Campbell. Meanwhile, he instructed me to film a vulgar and trashy movie where I would wear lace lingerie and do yoga on the back of a crocodile.
The sedative they used on the crocodiles wasn't enough. In an instant, three full-grown crocs lunged at me and started tearing me apart. Justice frantically jumped into the pool to save me and got his hand bitten.
Covered in blood, I was rushed into an ambulance. My life was hanging by a thread. My mother, my only family, bandaged Justice's wound while sobbing uncontrollably. "We ruined Ella's legs just so Zoey could win an award ... isn't that too much? If Ella dies because of this, I don't want to live either."
Justice gripped my hand and comforted her, saying, "We'll have plenty of chances to make it up to Ella. But Zoey ... she only has one month left to live. The only way for Zoey to win the Golden Award and fulfill her dying wish is to eliminate Ella, the biggest competitor. Don't worry, Mom. Even if Ella loses her legs, I'll take care of her for the rest of my life. She'll forgive us eventually."
Even though I was numb, a dense, prickling pain still spread through my heart. I also wanted to know how they would compensate me, but I no longer had the chance. Because the one who was sick wasn't her, it was me. As their days revolved around Zoey, I silently counted down the days to my death.
***
When I woke up, Justice excitedly grabbed my hand. My mother stood by, her eyes red and brimming with tears. I wanted to turn around, but I couldn't move. As I struggled, the blanket covering me slipped off.
Zoey looked at me, let out a loud scream, then fainted right there on the couch. Justice and my mother rushed over anxiously to catch her. Only then did I see that my legs had been amputated from the thigh down, leaving only two empty pant legs tied in a knot.
In the reflection of the TV, a scar that snaked like a centipede crawled across half of my head. After Zoey fainted, my mother's expression changed instantly. She turned her head to look at me, pointing and scolding me with anger and helplessness. "Why did you have to kick off the blanket? My precious Zoey was already frightened by your bloody state when you were admitted to the hospital and now your broken legs have made her faint again. I don't know what you're plotting!"
I lowered my head like a child who had done something wrong, tears welling up in my eyes. Justice gently patted my shoulder, preparing to get up and take Zoey to the doctor. I had never asked him for anything in our seven years of marriage, but now, as soon as I closed my eyes, I saw those crocodiles lunging at me with blood-soaked jaws. I tightly grabbed his hand, my voice choked with sobs, "Justice, can you please stay here with me? I'm so scared."
He patted my hand. "Be good, Ella. I'll have plenty of time to be with you later, but Zoey's different. She only has one month left. If we don't take care of her now, we won't get another chance." Then, finger by finger, he pried my hand off his and carried Zoey out to find a doctor.
I couldn't help but cry out loud. Zoey was his good friend. She was frightened and fainted, so she needed someone to be with her. Meanwhile, I was just his wife of seven years, who had gone through thick and thin with him. Just someone with late-stage pancreatic cancer who'd had both legs bitten off and somehow clawed her way back from the brink of death. Apparently, I didn't need anyone by my side.
I used to think that if I was obedient, understanding and worked hard enough, someone would eventually love me. Unfortunately, I was wrong. No matter how hard I tried, it was never enough, just like before. Seven years ago, I was blacklisted after refusing to sleep with a director. The pressure drove me to shave my head and plan a wedding with my then-fiancé, who was also a struggling actor.
