Love is Deep and Shallow, But My Marriage's Love is A Fantasy

David went on a hunger strike for three days. He risked losing his inheritance, fought his family tooth and nail, all to force them into sending him to my school.

Back then, I thought—just like in fairy tales—that we could be happy together forever.

Even though I longed for my parents’ love, I still fought desperately for the sake of my engagement with him. But when I finally managed to escape from the basement where they had locked me up, the first thing I saw was him, in a grand, beautifully decorated wedding hall, sliding a ring onto Yvonne’s finger.

My parents told me that I would never measure up to her.

That once David realized it too, he chose her without hesitation.

I tried to convince myself it wasn’t true, but the way he smiled at Yvonne—that tenderness in his eyes—it wasn’t a lie.

Later, my parents came to me, begging me to go to the Gunn Family’s home and clean up the mess Yvonne had left behind. And in that moment, when I agreed, there was a part of me that still hoped. Hoped that maybe, just maybe, David and I could go back to how we used to be. But ten years of cold disdain and cutting remarks made it clear.

In David’s world, there was only Yvonne.

***

“Dad, what’s taking you so long? You went upstairs to call that stinky woman to cook and now Mom’s still waiting for her food!”

Tyler’s shrill voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

David cast a glance at me.

“Enough with the mind games. Go make Yvonne’s dinner. She specifically asked for your cooking. If you behave well, I might consider letting you stay here a little longer.”

My fingers curled tightly around the armrest of my wheelchair, suppressing the anger boiling inside me.

“I’m in this condition… and you still want me to cook for Yvonne?”

Tyler let out a dramatic scream.

“You’re stinky woman! It’s just a little injury and you’re acting like you’re dying so pitiful!”

A little injury?

The doctors said that if I had been brought in just half an hour later, I would’ve been permanently disabled. But to Tyler, it was nothing more than a scratch.

I looked at the boy I had raised for ten years. A boy who once clung to me, soft and sweet, calling me Auntie Nadine with adoration in his eyes. A boy who used to say that heaven must have made a mistake—because the mother he chose should have been me. A boy who once told me that fate had finally corrected itself by bringing me into his life.

And now? Now he looked at me like I was his worst enemy. But none of it mattered anymore. It was almost over.

I swallowed back my emotions. The two of them stood there, waiting, making it clear that if I refused to cook, they wouldn’t let it go.

Bitterness rose in my throat, but I forced a laugh, “At least push me downstairs first.”

David let out a cold chuckle and waved over a servant.

“Don’t use this as an excuse to get close to me.”

***

In the kitchen, Yvonne strolled in casually, acting like she owned the place.

“Thanks for looking after my home, sis,” she said, flashing a saccharine smile.

“When you leave, I’ll tell David to give you some extra money.”

She flicked her fingers toward the menu as if she were placing an order at a high-end restaurant.

“Keep it simple, okay? You know my tastes—blood bird’s nest porridge, braised sea cucumber, king crab. Nothing too complicated.”

A nearby maid hesitated before speaking.

“But, Miss Xander… those dishes take hours to prepare. Just handling the ingredients alone will take at least four or five hours. And you don’t allow us to help—”

Yvonne arched a perfectly sculpted brow.

“So what you’re saying is… I don’t deserve to eat them?”

Outside, my parents’ voices cut through the air.

“Nadine! Your sister just got back and you can’t even do this one little thing for her?!”

I told myself it didn’t matter. I told myself over and over again.

But standing there, in the face of their blatant favoritism, my heart still ached.

'However, this is the last time.' I thought.

I looked straight into Yvonne’s eyes. “I’m leaving tomorrow. You don’t need to waste any more time trying to make me suffer.”

Yvonne’s eyes lit up with joy.

“You said it yourself—I never forced you to leave.”

She clapped her hands together, feigning generosity. “Fine, I’ll let the maids help you this time.”

With that, she strolled away, her entourage eagerly calling after her.

I turned back to the kitchen, where the staff watched me with a mix of pity and hesitation.

Even with their help in preparing the ingredients, cooking from a wheelchair was a struggle.

I lost track of time. My legs started aching again, a dull, persistent pain that refused to fade.

By the time I finally finished the dishes, a full table’s worth of food, the villa was eerily silent.

The housekeeper approached me, looking troubled.

“Three hours ago, Miss Yvonne wanted some snacks, so Mr. Gunn and the others all left.”

Not a single flicker of surprise crossed my face.

I merely hummed in acknowledgment and asked a maid to push me upstairs so I could pack my things.

***

At dawn, the car arrived to pick me up.

Just as the driver started the engine, he suddenly gasped, “Who's the kid?!”

I looked up—Tyler stood in front of the car, blocking the path.