The words were clear and unmistakable. "Celebrating the Wyatt family's child’s arrival!"
The cold truth hit me: this entire celebration had never been for me.
It had always been for the child growing in Thea’s belly.
Despite the small signs of recovery in my legs, the panicked crowd trampled over me, sending waves of pain through my body. I couldn’t move, couldn’t get up.
Just before everything went dark, I saw Thea on the balcony; her eyes closed in silent prayer as she made a wish upon the shooting star. Ruslan stood beside her, his gaze soft, filled with an affection that was never meant for me.
When I awoke, I found myself in a sterile hospital bed.
I tried to move my legs, only to be greeted with sharp, biting pain.
But it wasn’t the pain that pierced me deeper; it was the conversation outside the room, colder than any physical injury.
I heard the doctor’s voice.
"Mr. Wyatt, your wife’s legs are showing signs of recovery, but we’ll need more tests to determine if they can fully heal."
To my surprise, Ruslan didn’t seem relieved. Instead, his anger flared as he snapped at the doctor.
"I pay you a fortune, and this is what I get?"
"I’ve been feeding Aurelle so much medicine to damage her nerves. The whole point was to make her feel worthless, paralyzed, so she’d never leave me."
His voice dropped, but the frustration still bled through.
"I've gone to such extremes, even installing hundreds of surveillance cameras around the house, just to keep her by my side, to make sure she can never bear children, and to ensure that Thea’s child becomes the Wyatt family's first heir!"
As he spoke, Ruslan grabbed the doctor by the collar.
"And now you’re telling me this could all be for nothing? If Aurelle recovers from her paralysis, you can kiss goodbye to your job as director!"
I clenched my fists, the reality sinking in.
So this was why my legs, barely injured, had been paralyzed for three years. He had insisted the medication was some ancient cure he'd gathered from around the world.
Only recently, when I began feeling nauseous and refused to drink it, did I secretly spit it out to spare his feelings.
The moment I stopped taking it, my legs started to heal.
I paused to calm myself, the pieces falling into place.
Outside, Ruslan was still shouting at the doctor.
He'd even called in top specialists to discuss my paralysis.
As soon as they weren’t looking, I didn’t hesitate.