Crippled by Deception, Now They Drown in Regret

Mom’s eyes flickered with unease.

“Azalea, why didn’t you wait for us before going in?”

Dad’s frown deepened beside her. “Didn’t we tell you the hospital is packed and chaotic? We can’t let you go in alone; it’s not safe.”

I met their worried gazes with calm indifference.

“I couldn’t wait any longer, so I went inside to use the restroom,” I replied evenly, my face betraying nothing.

Mom hesitated before asking, “You didn’t see anyone, did you?”

The flicker of panic in her expression cut through me like a blade. I wanted to scream, to demand answers; why did you lie to me?

But I already knew the truth. Asking wouldn’t change anything.

I had already decided to leave.

“See anyone? I was in a hurry and spent a while in the restroom. I wasn’t paying attention.”

Dad exhaled. “Let’s go. We’ll take you upstairs.”

He took hold of my wheelchair while Mom crouched down, adjusting my mask with delicate care.

“The flu is spreading. You need to protect yourself. If you get sick, it’ll break my heart.”

Once, the concern in her eyes would have moved me to tears.

But now, I couldn’t feel even a trace of warmth in her gaze.

When we arrived at the rehabilitation center on the twelfth floor, I lay on the hospital bed as the doctor administered the anesthesia. Drowsiness pulled me under, but just before I slipped into unconsciousness, their voices drifted through the haze.

"Miss Harrison’s leg has been left untreated for too long. If she doesn’t undergo surgery soon, she may never stand again…"

"All the previous rehabilitation treatments were only done halfway and the prescribed medication was replaced with vitamins, per your orders. Chairman Harrison, are you truly willing to watch Azalea remain crippled for life at such a young age?"

"I didn’t pay a fortune to bring you back from abroad just to listen to your nonsense. Do as I say."

Dad’s words held no room for argument.

"So what if she never walks again? We can take care of her for a lifetime. Why should an outsider like you be concerned?"

"Don’t forget, we’ve been paying your salary for the past five years. Do you really think you belong to the hospital?"

The doctor hesitated. "That’s not what I meant. It’s just Azalea has been under anesthesia for years. If this continues, she may develop resistance to it. What will we do then?"

"That’s your problem to solve. Just make sure her legs neither recover nor deteriorate. Keep it under control."

A beat of hesitation. Then, the doctor’s reluctant response.

"Understood."

The door creaked open and their footsteps faded down the hall.

I lay there as if I had plunged into an icy abyss.

They didn’t know.

Didn’t know that the anesthesia had long lost its effect on me.

Didn’t know that I had heard every single word.

Didn’t know that I had recorded it all.

So this was their plan all along.

They had spent five years feeding me lies, hiring a doctor from abroad just to deceive me. No wonder the so-called rehabilitation center was tucked away on the twelfth floor of the inpatient ward; it was all a carefully woven illusion.

A sharp pain lanced through my chest and silent tears slipped from the corners of my eyes.

After the "treatment," my parents cheerfully wheeled me home, warmth laced into every word and gesture as if they hadn’t just sentenced me to a life of suffering.

Two hours ago, Elijah had been at the hospital, whispering sweet nothings to Scarlett.

Now, he stood at the door in an apron, smiling like the devoted fiancé he pretended to be.

"Dear, rehabilitation must have been exhausting, right? I made you some bone broth. It’ll help you recover faster!"

His gaze brimmed with tenderness, his voice rich with concern, just like the man who once swore to love me, to cherish me, to stand by my side forever.

If I hadn’t seen him with Scarlett at the hospital, if I hadn’t heard their whispered truths, I might have believed him.

Might have let that warmth seep into my frozen heart.

But now, all I saw was the lie.

His love had never been mine.

It had always belonged to the very woman who shattered my legs.