When Love Becomes Pain

I felt a bone-deep chill spreading through my limbs. My vision went black, and I lost consciousness completely.

When I woke up again, the surgery was over. I was lying in a lavish VIP hospital room.

The empty space where my legs used to be and the excruciating pain reminded me that none of this was a dream.

It turned out that the six-year relationship I had with him was nothing but a lie from the start.

I was unable to hold back and broke down in tears.

Just then, Luke rushed in. He looked panicked as he grabbed my hand. His face was filled with concern, and there was clear distress in his eyes.

“The doctor said the injuries to your legs were too severe, so they had to amputate them. But don’t worry, I’ll be your crutch for the rest of your life. I’ll take care of you forever.”

The sorrow in Luke’s eyes seemed genuine, but all I could feel was disgust.

I turned my face away. Clinging to the last sliver of hope, I asked, “Where’s my mother? I want to see her.”

A flicker of guilt flashed across his face. He lowered his head and gently kissed my forehead, then said, “She’s in critical condition. She’s still in the ICU.”

I clutched his shirt tightly and pleaded, “Take me to see her, please?”

I wanted to at least see my mother one more time—just to say goodbye.

Luke frowned, then forcefully tucked my hand back under the blanket. His tone left no room for argument as he said, “Don’t worry and just rest, okay? You’re not in any condition to move. We’ll see her another time.”

I fell silent and let the ache spread in my heart.

For the next few days, Luke refused to hire a nurse. He took it upon himself to change the bandages on my stumps every day.

The foul smell of the infected wound filled the room, but Luke treated it like it was a precious gem. He handled my wounds carefully without a hint of disgust.

When he saw how depressed I was, Luke assumed it was the hospital environment I disliked. So, he arranged for my discharge and took me home.

As soon as we stepped through the door, the familiar scent of my mother filled the air.

For the first time in days, I allowed myself a smile.

Seeing that my mood had improved, Luke sighed in relief and quickly found an excuse to leave.

I wheeled myself over to the locked door of a room.

It was Luke’s study. He never allowed anyone in here, and he had never given me the password for the fingerprint lock.

I thought about it for a while, and an idea crossed my mind.

I entered the digits for Queenie’s birthday.

Sure enough, the door clicked open, revealing a room full of photos. They were everywhere—on the walls, the floor, even the ceiling.

And in every photo, without exception, was Queenie.

The computer on the desk emitted a faint glow, and I clicked it open.

What I saw next made my entire body tremble.

The screen was filled with text—plans for revenge against me and my mother.

Luke’s WhatsApp account was logged in, one I’d never seen before. It was likely a secondary account.

The pinned contact? “Darling”.

The chat log, aside from some crude flirtations, was filled with private videos of me—completely in my birthday suit!

[Luke, are you filming so many videos of Natalie because you think she’s better than me? You’re not falling in love with her, are you?]

[Don’t say such nonsense, Queenie. You’re like the bright moon in the sky, while Natalie is just filthy, rotten mud. She can’t even compare to you.]

[Everything I’ve done is for revenge. Every second I spend with her disgusts me. I’ll pretend to marry her, then, at her happiest moment, I’ll release these videos and ruin her.]

[Queenie, be good and wait for me. You’ll be my wife soon. I love you.]

On the desk, there were dozens of wedding photos of Luke and Queenie in various styles.

The date on the photos? The very day my mother and I had the accident.

I felt my heart shatter completely. With trembling hands, I dialed an international number.

“Dad, I’ve made up my mind—I’ll go to Meldora. Please erase my current identity for me!”