He Ruined Me, Now I'm His Punishment

On our wedding day, my fiancé ran off to another country with my older sister, Zoey. Everyone laughed at me, calling me a tomboy and saying I was so undesirable even a free offer wouldn't work. Then Justice, once hailed as the most promising young actor of his generation, stepped onto the stage and proposed to me in front of everyone.

After we got married, life was sweet. I helped him network with directors, accompanied him to auditions and supported him every step of the way. In winter, we'd huddle together on a tiny single bed, shivering from the cold. He'd tuck my frozen feet against his belly to warm me up. That most challenging year, he was diagnosed with kidney failure. His bank account had barely two digits left.

I worked five jobs every day, from dawn till dusk, just to raise money for his medical expenses. When a matching kidney was found, I donated one of mine to him without a second thought. Seven years finally proved that I loved him deeply and he loved me just as much.

However, only now did I realize that the real reason Justice married me was to stop me from interfering with my ex-fiancé's wedding to Zoey. I thought that by listening to my mother and giving up my fiancé to my sister, she might love me a little more. It turned out that every ounce of affection I received over the years had my sister's shadow behind it. Because the moment she came back, whether it was Justice or my mother, nothing belonged to me anymore.

That evening, Zoey suddenly showed up. She wore a micro mini skirt, showing off her long, pale legs and sneered at me provocatively. "You've always been the loser in this game," she mocked. "All I had to do was cry a little, say I wanted an award and both Justice and Mom couldn't wait to ruin your legs. You legless freak. Just looking at you makes me sick. If I were you, I'd be too ashamed to keep living."

Furious, I grabbed my phone and hurled it at her. Sadly, I missed, but she snapped. Then she grabbed a fruit knife from the drawer and lunged at me. The blood streamed down as soon as she slashed my left cheek. Later, a stinging pain erupted. I wrestled the knife out of her hands and raised it high.

The next second, Justice grabbed it back, protectively holding Zoey and questioned what I was doing. Zoey cried heartbrokenly, saying I had called her a vixen and threatened to break her legs and kill her. I looked at Justice and shook my head. "That's not true."

Justice didn't even glance at me, carefully escorting Zoey out. My mother heard the commotion and glanced at me at the door. She didn't ask what happened or if I was in pain. Seeing me constantly dabbing at the bleeding with tissues, she said in a tone that implied I deserved it, "Serves you right. Who told you to upset your sister?"

That woman didn't even step inside, turning around to follow and comfort my sister. Ever since I could remember, I knew that my mother didn't love me. She had my older sister with her wealthy ex-husband. After their divorce, she married my father. She always scolded my father for not earning enough and complained that I ate too much and didn't do any work.

Whenever it was windy or rainy, my mother would look out the window, worrying about whether my sister, who lived in a villa with a nanny and attended a prestigious school, was warm and well-fed. She never cared that I was dressed in thin clothes, my stomach growling from hunger. Things that others could get easily, I had to fight tooth and nail for even a little bit.

Now, it seemed I didn't want them anymore. A long time later, Justice finally came back. He looked at me, a hint of guilt on his face. My stomach was twisting in unbearable pain. Even the painkillers weren't working. I remembered what the doctor said and suddenly, I didn't want to fight anymore. I said it was Zoey who tried to hurt me with the knife.

Justice didn't seem surprised at all after hearing this. "I know. You don't have legs. There's no way you could have reached into the drawer for a knife."

I picked up a pillow and frantically hit him with it, shouting in despair. "Then why do you always say it's my fault?"

Justice frowned deeply, constantly running his hand through his hair.