At the age of 18, I rushed into a burning building to save Jack from a raging fire. As a result, I became disabled from the waist down. In a dilapidated rented apartment, he proposed to me with a plastic ring from a soda can. “Emily, I only want to marry you in this life.” After we got married, he became known as the “internet’s most romantic artist” for sketching a portrait of his “disabled wife”. His fame skyrocketed, and his artwork sold for thousands of dollars. But ten years into our marriage, I discovered a portrait of his first love in his study. He looked at me coldly as I broke down: “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be living such a good life.” “Besides, you have no self-respect. You let yourself be tricked by a plastic ring. You’re so worthless, how can you compare to Sophia?” Later, I fulfilled his wish and let him be with Sophia. But Jack broke down, clutching my wheelchair and sobbing: “Emily, don’t leave me. Didn’t we promise to be together forever?” 0 Last night, my husband got drunk and fell asleep in his study. When I went in to clean up this morning, I found a stack of sketches. It was a thick pile, some old and some new. The one on top even had tear stains on it. I recognized the woman in the photo. It was Sophia, his unattainable princess from years ago. I held back my tears, trying hard to tell myself not to overthink and to trust Jack. But the small line of text beneath the portrait shattered my last delusion. “My wife, Sophia.” There had been signs all along. In recent years, Jack had been coming home later and later, often smelling of unfamiliar perfume. Except for Jack’s fans who believed he “doted on his wife”, everyone around us knew the truth. Jack had long lost any feelings for me. In his heart, there was only room for his unattainable first love. I stared at those words, tears silently falling. Where did that leave me? What was I to him? It was late at night when Jack finally came home. As soon as he walked in, he pointed his camera at me sitting in my wheelchair, looking disheveled. “Hey everyone, want to know what it’s like to spoil a disabled wife?” He pulled out a bouquet of roses from behind his back and said in a gentle tone: “Honey, today marks 3,666 days since we met. I bought these roses for you.” I had been crying all afternoon and looked a mess. I wasn’t even wearing a bra. I tried desperately to avoid his camera lens, feeling embarrassed. “Jack, please stop filming… I’m begging you…” He frowned slightly, a flash of displeasure crossing his eyes, before turning the camera away. “Sorry everyone, my wife is a bit upset today. But you know, mood swings are understandable for someone with a disability.” He picked up some sketches from the table and explained to the camera: “These are my new works. As always, my love for my wife inspired them. Starting bid is $9,999, grab them while you can!” He saw my tears but turned away without a care. All the questions I wanted to ask got stuck in my throat. “The secret to success is ‘loving your wife’! Those who love their wives will prosper! Even though my wife is disabled, I’ve never looked down on her!” His words struck my heart like hammers, the pain unbearable. Looking at his back, I felt like the person before me was a complete stranger. 0
The next day, the video Jack filmed last night was trending again. The title read: “What’s it like to spoil a disabled wife?” The thumbnail showed me in my pajamas, hair disheveled, slumped in my wheelchair. My face was pale and sickly, with sunken eyes that looked almost deranged. Looking at my haggard appearance, I felt like what little self-esteem I had left was completely trampled. Now the whole world knew I was a disabled person dependent on others. Since becoming disabled, I had always tried to live like a normal person, not wanting to burden Jack in any way. But never had I been more acutely aware than at this moment. I was a helpless cripple. That image of myself disgusted even me. “Oh my god, Jack is so loving! This is true love – he can even kiss a face like that!” “What blessing did this woman cultivate in her past life to marry such a good husband!” “Ahhhh I want to buy 100 of his paintings! Don’t fight me for them! Since I can’t marry a quality man like Jack, I can only console myself by buying his art!” “I’ll take them all! Those who love their wives prosper, Jack deserves to make money for being so devoted to his wife!” “Am I the only one who thinks this woman is ungrateful? She’s already disabled, yet still gives attitude when Jack is so good to her. Why burden others if you don’t know how to appreciate them…” Seeing this top comment, my hand gripping the phone suddenly clenched tight. It’s not like that! It’s not like that at all! I wanted to scream, to argue back, but no one would believe me or care. Yes, I was alone and paralyzed, drifting through this world like a floating weed. Jack was so good to me, yet I was still unsatisfied. But who knew that my paralysis was because I rushed into a fire to save him when I was 18? No one knew. No one cared. 0
At noon, I brought a thermos of food to Jack’s company. But when I got to the entrance, I was stopped by the receptionist. “Miss, you can’t enter the company without an appointment.” I saw the contempt hidden in her eyes, my heart aching. How ironic that the receptionist at Jack’s company, who was famous online for “doting on his wife”, didn’t even recognize me. With no choice, I could only call Jack. It took a full half hour before the call went through. The receptionist gave me a disdainful look and said: “You can go in now.” Before I could get far, they started gossiping without trying to hide it: “So that’s Jack’s crippled wife? She looks like that? Jack has such poor taste.” “I know, right? She can’t compare at all to the lady upstairs. I don’t know how a great guy like Jack ended up marrying her.” “You don’t know? Jack doesn’t even want to answer her calls…” Sitting by the elevator, their discussion came clearly to my ears. The overwhelming shame and humiliation nearly drowned me. I knew the receptionist actually did recognize me. She just didn’t want me to disturb Jack and that “her” upstairs. But I still came up anyway. After all, Jack’s “devoted husband” persona not only affected my life, but also deceived many others. I didn’t want to continue this charade anymore. In Jack’s office. A beautiful, refined woman and a tall, handsome man were dancing the waltz intimately. The music played softly as their figures intertwined, the room filled with an ambiguous atmosphere. Until I knocked on the door. Seeing me, the woman’s beautiful brows furrowed in displeasure: “Jack, I didn’t realize you were so henpecked. Your wife even chased you all the way here.” The man smiled helplessly, his tone indulgent: “Sophia, you know all that stuff online is fake.” “There are no real feelings between me and her.” He was no longer trying to hide it. Sophia was satisfied, but still sneered: “Some people don’t know when they’re not wanted. They just have to shamelessly push themselves where they’re not welcome.” As she spoke, she “accidentally” stomped her sharp stiletto heel onto my foot. The pain was excruciating. My right hand suddenly lost its grip, and the thermos fell to the ground. “Bang!” The scalding, greasy chicken soup spilled all over me. My thighs were instantly burned red. I bit my lip hard, tears rolling down my face. But Jack didn’t even glance at me. He was crouched by Sophia’s feet, wiping the oil stains off her high heels. “Oh no, how annoying. You got my new heels all dirty.” “I don’t care, Jack, you have to buy me another pair.” She pouted unhappily, acting coy with the man. At the same time, she swept a haughty, disdainful look at me in the wheelchair. My whole body trembled, though I didn’t know if it was from the intense pain or from grief. I only knew that in this moment, the young man who had lived in my heart for so long seemed to have died.
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