Chapter 2
"You're glowing," Maren said, pinching my cheek. "Love really does wonders for a woman," she teased.
I blushed. "Oh, stop. You're the one who's been exhausted from working too hard. You look so thin."
"Don't even get me started. I'm surrounded by bones all day. I'm practically turning into a skeleton myself." She took a sip of her coffee and lowered her voice. "By the way, how's your waist? Still hurting?"
I developed chronic lower back pain in college from pulling all-nighters to finish assignments.
At the mention of this, I perked up and began speaking with a hint of ostentation.
"It doesn't hurt anymore! You have no idea how capable Julian is."
I eagerly told Maren how Julian had been doing chiropractic for me every week for seven years, never missing a single time.
"He's super professional. He calls it 'a new style chiropractic.' It realigns my pelvis and spine. Once a week, and every time after it, I feel like I've been reborn, and I practically float when I walk," I added.
I was so animated telling my story and didn't even notice the strange look on Maren's face.
The classmates around us overheard and started giving me jealous looks.
"Wow, Elara, your husband is seriously the best!" a classmate said.
"Guys like that are basically unicorns. Where did you even find him?" someone else asked.
I was immersed in everyone's praise and feeling proud of Julian. But when I glanced at Maren, her smile had completely vanished.
Her expression turned unusually serious, almost terrified.
She stared at me, as if to search for answers in my face.
"Maren? What's wrong?" I asked, confused.
She didn't respond. Her lips trembled, and she kept her gaze fixed on me.
The atmosphere in the private room suddenly froze.
Everyone picked up on the weird vibe and stopped talking and laughing.
"Maren, what's wrong? Is there something wrong about what Julian does?" one of the classmates asked cautiously.
Maren acted as if she hadn't heard it.
Her hand holding the chopsticks was trembling, her knuckles turning white from how tightly she gripped them.
Suddenly, there was a loud "snap."
The fork slipped from her fingers and clattered onto the shiny tiles.
Everyone was surprised.
"Elara," Maren's voice was dry and raspy, trembling in a way I'd never heard before. She continued, "Repeated what you have said.
"Did he do the chiropractic every week?
"And during chiropractic, your bones crack?
"He said he's adjusting your pelvis?"
I was stunned by her series of questions, but still nodded. "Yeah, what's up?"
Maren's face instantly turned extremely pale.
All of a sudden, she shot to her feet and grabbed my wrist, her grip shockingly strong.
"Come with me!" she said.
Ignoring everyone's stares, she almost dragged me, stumbling toward the restroom.
The harsh fluorescent lights in the restroom cast an ashen tint over our faces.
Maren locked the door, turned around, and pressed her hands firmly down on my shoulders.
Her hands were trembling, making my whole body quiver along with hers.
"Elara, listen to me," Maren said, her voice shaking with fear. "You need to stop letting your husband touch you right now! Don't let him lay a finger on you, not even once!"
I was totally freaked out by her reaction. "Maren, what's wrong? You're scaring me."
"Scaring?" she suddenly raised her voice, her eyes reddening with emotion. "If I don't scare you, the rest of your life will be ruined!"
Ruined? Why?
My mind was a mess. I couldn't understand her words at all.
"Julian's a legit therapist, he's got all the certificates. He wouldn't ever hurt me..." My voice faded as I said, and even I could hear how shaky I sounded.
Maren drew in a shaky breath, as if she was forcing herself to say this, and spoke to me, her words sharp and deliberate.
"Elara, real chiropractic is serious business. It takes real skill, and it's definitely not something you should be doing every week. All that constant cracking, just for the sound? That's not treatment at all."
She stared fixedly into my eyes, her stare like a blade, slicing right through the sweet fantasy I'd been living in for seven years.
"He's not fixing your spine at all.
"Instead, he's been using a slow, hidden skill to systematically mess up the stability of your lower back and the structure of your pelvis!
"If you keep letting him do this, in less than two years, you'll end up with a herniated disc pressing on your nerves, and you'll be paralyzed from the waist down!
"After that, you'll spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair!"
Just like that, my mind seemed to explode.
My mind went totally blank, like thunder crashing right beside me.
Paralyzed? Wheelchair?
Those words hit me like venom-tipped daggers, stabbing right through my heart.