Chapter 1
On the eve of her wedding, Malayah Hudson discovered her fiancé, Desmond Martinez, whom she thought was left disabled by a car accident, standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, passionately entwined with another woman.
Resolute, she called her mother, "Mom, I'm leaving the country in seven days. Can you help me make the arrangements?"
"At last, you've come to your senses. Desmond never truly cared for you. Holding onto him won't lead to anything worthwhile," Holly Hudson's gentle voice carried a hint of relief. "Come to Paris. We not only have the art you love but also plenty of charming gentlemen. You'll be swept off your feet."
"Alright, I'll finish things up here and head over."
After the call, Malayah quietly walked from the living room to the bedroom door. Inside, the two had already moved to the bed.
"Desmond, you staged a car accident back then to break up with Malayah, pretending to be crippled and blind. I never thought she'd be so devoted, taking care of you all this time."
"You're not planning to marry her, are you?" Waverly Bell pouted beneath him, displeased. "You should have always been mine."
"Waverly, you're the only one I love. In seven days, I'll have her kidnapped. If she doesn't show up at the wedding, I can naturally have a new bride," Desmond murmured as he kissed Waverly's lips, but his words sent chills down Malayah’s spine. "If she hadn't insisted on caring for me back then, I wouldn't have kept up this act for so long. I'm worn out."
Malayah couldn’t believe it was all a charade!
She had returned drenched from the rain just to bring Desmond some coffee. Since the accident, his legs would ache on rainy days. Shivering slightly, her long hair stuck to her face. Compared to the warmth inside the bedroom, she seemed pitiful.
Desmond's cold words shattered her heart completely. "Waverly, hold on for seven more days, and I'll marry you."
With a loud "Bang!" the two inside the room quickly separated.
Desmond's eyes snapped to the door. "Who’s there?"
Malayah swallowed her tears. "I accidentally spilled the coffee I made for you."
She crouched down, picking up the scattered glass shards.
On hearing this, Desmond stiffened for a moment, then hurriedly pushed Waverly away, got dressed, and sat in his wheelchair, motioning for Waverly to wheel him out. He remembered he had to keep pretending to be blind.
"When did you get back? Waverly was just helping with some work, and I didn’t notice you," he kept his gaze above Malayah’s head, gripping the wheelchair tightly, probing as he spoke.
Malayah wasn't fooled. She bit her lip, "Just came in. You can carry on. I'll make more coffee."
The coffee was still hot, the glass shattered, staining her fingertips with blood. The spreading red was nothing compared to the pain in her heart.
She had met Desmond at her graduation ceremony. He had been invited to speak as a successful alumnus. The moment he appeared, Malayah was struck by his presence.
She pursued him fervently, joined his company, mirrored his interests, and naturally, they ended up together, until she mentioned marriage.
The day after she brought up marriage, Desmond had the car accident.
From the accident until now, three years had passed.
During those three years, she had sacrificed everything, including her career, family, and dreams, to study alternative medicine and nutrition, striving to help Desmond walk again, regain his vision.
Yet now, it was all an illusion!
She looked down at her hands, once meant for sketching, now only covered in a thin layer of calluses.
Clutching the glass shards tightly, she let the blood stain her fingertips. She raised her head and stared fiercely at the pair of traitors.
Desmond frowned, irritated. "I’ve told you my legs and eyes will never heal. Why do you keep doing these things every day? Are you reminding me that I’m a cripple?"
Malayah stood there, silent and expressionless, staring at him.
Throughout these three years, because of his condition, she had tolerated his mood swings and occasional outbursts. Falling from grace and unable to bear his impotence, his drastic change in behavior was somewhat understandable.
Malayah forced a laugh. Her chest heaving with anger, she finally composed herself. "Fine, if you don’t like it, I’ll stop."
Desmond, we’re done.
Desmond seemed surprised. Just as he was about to speak, Malayah had already turned toward the kitchen.
She tossed the expensive ingredients she'd specifically bought into the trash.
Since Desmond didn’t care about her efforts or her love, she decided to take it all back.
She glanced at the calendar. March 27th was the wedding day. She had marked it with a little heart.
Looking back now, it was bitterly ironic.