Paralyzed for Five Years My Wife Kissed the Man Who Destroyed Me

After learning that every tragedy in my life had been born from calculated manipulation and betrayal, every cell in my body felt like it had been doused in acid, burning me to the edge of madness.

"You filthy bastards! Why? Why would you do this to me?!"

I screamed like a man possessed, bracing my hands against the mattress to push myself up, only to topple straight off the bed.

The catheter bag was crushed beneath me and split open. Fluid seeped into my wounds, mixing with blood until the floor was slick with it.

Nanette was terrified.

She didn't even think to turn off her phone. She crouched down in a panic, trying to lift me, trying to clean the wounds.

I grabbed a fistful of her hair. I closed my fingers around her throat. My open palm struck her face over and over, fast as rain.

She kept her head bowed through all of it, expression blank, enduring every blow.

All she murmured was, "I'm sorry. I didn't know you'd wake up at this hour."

She didn't deny a single thing.

She just changed her phone password.

Bang.

The violent slam of a door dragged me out of the memory.

Nanette had shut me outside.

Five years.

On the very day Stephen Walker reappeared, Nanette's composure finally cracked.

Through the door, she snarled at me in a low, harsh voice.

"Duncan, stop this. Just stop."

"I'm a person too. I get tired too."

The wheelchair's brakes had been broken for a long time.

The door struck my knees.

The chair lurched out of control.

It rolled down the slope and slammed straight into the wall of the building across the road.

I was thrown from the chair.

My forehead hit the concrete and split open, blood pouring down my face in a warm sheet.

At least the catheter bag didn't rupture, thanks to all the layers I was wearing. It preserved the last scrap of dignity I had left.

A passing car screeched to a halt, brakes shrieking. The driver rolled down his window and started cursing.

"Trying to scam me, you piece of shit? You want me to call the cops on you?!"

The front door flew open.

Nanette came out with tear tracks still wet on her face, bowing again and again toward the driver's seat.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my husband didn't mean to, he didn't—"

After the driver peeled off, still swearing, Nanette rushed to my side.

She pulled off her coat and draped it over me, then dug out the roll of gauze she always carried and began wiping the blood from my wound.

I wanted to push her away, but even lifting a finger felt like too much.

All I could manage was refusing to look at her. One last act of defiance.

"Get away from me."

"Don't touch me."

Nanette said nothing.

She just sniffled and kept wiping, over and over.

But the car accident had left me with a severe clotting disorder. Even after she applied the medicine, the bleeding only got worse.

My lips turned white. My eyelids grew heavy.

"No. No, no, no—"

Nanette fumbled for the emergency medication, twisted off the cap.

Empty.

She pulled out another bottle. Also empty.

She ran back inside and tore through the house at a frantic pace, searching every drawer, every shelf. Not half a pill anywhere.

Nanette broke.

She collapsed onto me, clutching my shoulders, and wailed.

"Duncan, I don't have any money left. I can't even afford a single pill."

"I'm so tired. I'm so, so tired."

"If we're all going to suffer like this, let's just die together. Let's just die. Okay?"

She slapped herself, hard, again and again. She raked her nails down her own face. She bit down on her tongue.

Then she grabbed a rock from the ground and swung it at her own head.

At the last second, another car pulled up behind us.

The driver got out and stopped her just in time.

He produced a fresh bottle of the medication, pressed the pills past my lips, and stanched the bleeding from my wound.

Then he went to the trunk and unloaded several crates of fresh vegetables and fruit, setting them by the front door.

The man looked at me and bowed deeply.

"Mr. Henson, this is all arranged by Mr. Walker."

"He asked me to pass along a message. He saved your life today. In return, he'd like to borrow your wife for two hours."