My Wife And Paralyzed Brother Loved Deeply; I Consented, They Regretted

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My best friend lost a leg high up in a car accident. The moment he was wheeled out of the operating room, his wife brought him divorce papers.

His mother stood in the doorway of the hospital room without so much as a glance at him, calling him a crippled burden and flatly refusing to take him home.

Without a second thought, I took him home myself.

My wife, Michelle, slammed her bowl and chopsticks down on the spot. "Saul, have you lost your mind?"

"A cripple with a broken leg, needing someone to wait on him for everythingdo you want to drag this family under?"

I couldn't bring myself to say no, so I promised her again and again.

"He has no one to turn to right now. We can't just leave him out on the street."

"He'll only stay a few months. Once I've had his prosthetic made, I'll send him off."

From then on, I was up before dawn and to bed late, carrying his bedpans, doing everything for him, caring for him with all I had.

I traveled to dozens of manufacturers all over the country and drained my savings to have the best-fitting smart prosthetic limb custom-made for him.

I hurried home, thrilled, the custom contract in my handonly to walk in on the two of them going at it in the bathroom.

"Won't you be put off by me, disabled, less than perfect?"

"How could I? You're my Apollo, the sun god. Even without legs, you're terrifyingly strong"

Andrew threw his head back and laughed in triumph.

And caught my eyes without warning.

It was the sweltering dead of summer, but I felt like I'd dropped into a pit of ice.

A full five minutes passed before the bathroom door slid open.

Michelle, wrapped in a bath towel, carefully helped Andrew onto the wheelchair, then took the hairdryer and dried his hair with great care.

Then she pulled over the cashmere blanket and tucked it around Andrew meticulously.

Michelle had always had a bit of a princess streak. In eight years of marriage, she'd never once deigned to do these little things for me.

Only after all that did she seem to notice me for the first time.

"Why are you back early? You didn't even say a word."

Her tone was flat, as if nothing had happened.

"If I'd said a word, how would I ever have caught this filthy little affair of yours?"

Andrew's eyes went red.

"Saul, it's not what you think."

"My phantom limb was hurting so badly just now, I couldn't stand it."

"Michelle just came in to rub it for me. We didn't"

He couldn't finish. He raised his hand and pounded hard at his stump.

"It's all my fault. I'm useless."

"I never should have survived. I'm nothing but a burden to you both. I'm sorry"

He cried so hard he could barely breathe, the skin on his stump beaten red.

Michelle rushed over and held his hand down, aching for him.

"I'm the one who likes you. What does any of this have to do with you? Stop talking nonsense."

She turned to me, her eyes going cold.

"Saul, do you have to be so nasty about this?"

I was shaking with rage, my hands and feet gone cold.

"Nasty?"

"You two were naked, going at it in my bathroom, and I'm supposed to praise you as the perfect match?"

Michelle gave a cold laugh.

"And who was it that cried and begged to bring him home in the first place?"

"Who said he had no one, and asked me to help look after him?"

"Now that I've looked after him for you, you're unhappy again?"

"Saul, be reasonable."

Her words were like a slap, landing hard across my face.

These past few months, I'd been the one up before dawn and to bed late, carrying his bedpans, wiping him down, feeding him.

Before this trip, I'd already arranged for a caregiver to helpshe was only supposed to lend a hand.

"I asked you to help look after him, not to take him to bed. Have you two no shame?"

I swung my arm and shoved Michelle off hard.

"Don't blame her!"

Andrew threw himself off the wheelchair and crawled toward me, inch by inch.

"It's all my fault. I seduced her."

"Saul, if you want to hit someone, hit medon't blame Michelle!"

Michelle bent down to help him, but he pushed her away.

He was set on crawling to my feet. He lifted his head, his face set in stubborn resolve.

"Saul, I know I've wronged you."

"My wife divorced me, my parents don't want me anymore. Michelle is the only one who doesn't look down on me."

"You're so healthy. Even without her, you'll be just fine."

"But I can't. Without her, I can't go on living."

"Give her to me, all right? I'm begging you."

Andrew kowtowed frantically. Michelle rushed over and pulled him into her arms.

"Don't beg him."

"I'm the one who likes you. I'm the one who wants to be with you."

"I'll say what needs to be said."

Right in front of me, she pressed a gentle kiss to Andrew's forehead.

Then she looked up at me, her eyes full of cold, distant indifference.

"Saul, it's already come to this. There's no use saying anything now."

"Let's get a divorce."

I stood rooted there, my heart clenched so tight the pain made it hard to breathe.

I looked at the two of them holding each other in front of me.

One was my wife, who had shared eight years of life with me through thick and thin.

One was the brother I'd trusted for over twenty years.

Together, they had dealt me the deadliest blow of all.

A metallic sweetness rose in my throat, and I staggered back.

"Fine."

"Divorce."

Michelle was taken aback, as if she hadn't expected me to agree so readily.

We'd gone from school uniforms to a wedding dress together.

At our poorest, we couldn't even afford to rent a basement room.

Wrapped in an old down jacket, we'd huddled under the underpass to get through the night.

Even through days that hard, I never once mentioned leaving.

She probably thought I'd cry, make a scene, beg her to come back.

Her expression eased, and a note of apology crept into her voice.

"You can't put all the blame on Andrew and me for this."

"I'm a normal woman. You let a young, handsome man move into the house and made me take care of him."

"It's only natural for something to happen, isn't it? You should have seen this day coming back then."

The strength drained out of me. From head to toe, there wasn't a spot on me that didn't ache.

"I'm the one who wronged you."

"But Andrew thinks of you as his best friend. Don't hold this against him."

"He's frail, and he takes things to heart. He can't handle any shock."

"From now on, just treat him the way you always have."

I looked up and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

My eyes were bloodshot, dark shadows under them.

For the past three months, I'd traveled all over the country searching for the best prosthetic limb, hardly sleeping a full night.

She used to ache for me. Now her eyes held only him.

"When did it start?"

"On our wedding anniversary, when you said something urgent had come up and you had to travel for work."

"I was miserable, so I had a couple too many drinks, and I mistook him for you."

Watching her eyes dart away, I couldn't help but sneer inside.

Michelle was famous for being able to drink a thousand glasses and never get drunk.

In the business world, she'd put how many seasoned old hands under the table.

Except for the day we got our marriage certificate, I had never once seen her drunk.

"Michelle, do you even believe that yourself?"

Caught out, Michelle flew into a rage.

"Fine, I did it on purpose. So what?"

"Saul, you're so dull. Everything you do is by the book."

"Even in bed, you're stiff as a plank of wood, the same position over and over. Utterly boring."

"Andrew's different. He knows how to sweet-talk me, he knows how to give me emotional support."

"Only when I'm with him do I feel like a woman."

It felt as if my heart were being wrung to pieces.

Back then she'd fallen for me at first sight, saying my serious, upright manner was so charming.

Now these very qualities she'd once cradled in her palms

they'd all become, in her mouth, unforgivable original sins.

I didn't want to argue anymore. I turned to leave.

Michelle called me back.

"Andrew's been sleeping in the master bedroom lately. If we suddenly change his surroundings, he'll probably have trouble sleeping."

"Saul, from now on you sleep in the guest room."

I thought I'd misheard.

"What did you say? This is my house."

I paid the down payment. I oversaw the renovation for three months.

And now she wanted me to sleep in the guest room?

Michelle frowned, her face full of displeasure.

"Look at the state he's in. He can't take being jostled around."

"You're healthy. What's the harm in making do for a few days?"

I lifted my head and looked around.

The magnolia I loved on the balcony had been swapped out for gaudy peonies.

The plain leather sofa had, at some point, been replaced with a country-style fabric one.

Even the wedding photo of Michelle and me on the wall was nowhere to be seen.

The home I'd arranged with my own hands had, without my noticing, become unrecognizable.

Andrew pulled out a bank card and held it out to me.

"Saul, I'll give you all my money. Will you hand Michelle over to me?"

"Aren't we good friends? Didn't you say that as long as you had it and I wanted it, you'd give it to me?"

I stared hard at the bank card in his hand.

That was the joint account Michelle and I had opened together.

We'd agreed to save the money and set up a trust fund for our future children.

How much must she love him, to give away everything that was supposed to be our future?

I couldn't help but sneer.

"Andrew, you're using my money to make it up to me?"

"What, stealing everything wasn't enough? Now you have to come and lord it over me too?"

Andrew's eyes reddened in an instant.

"No, I really did want to make it up to you."

He choked up and couldn't go on.

Michelle drew him into her arms and soothed him softly.

"Okay, okay, why bother explaining to him? He's not worth it."

"Your phantom limb hurt so badly last night you barely slept. You need to go to bed early tonight, be good."

"When you wake up tomorrow, I'll take you to that new sushi place."

They flaunted their affection in front of me without a shred of shame.

The master bedroom door closed, leaving me alone in the empty living room.

The contract on the table was stamped "Smart Prosthetic Limb Customization Agreement."

Over the past three months, I'd visited nearly a hundred manufacturers to find the prosthetic that fit him best.

All told it cost me close to a million dollars every bit of savings from eight years of work.

I couldn't bring myself to buy myself a two-hundred-dollar shirt.

Yet for him I picked out the most expensive silicone liner, the most flexible joints.

All I wanted was for him to be able to walk normally someday, to start over.

Looking back now, it's one enormous joke.

He never needed to stand up at all.

All he had to do was lie there and play the victim, and he could take my wife, my home.

I slept badly that night, one nightmare after another.

I dreamed of being a child, of my parents divorcing and neither one wanting me, of being dumped out on the street.

I dreamed of my stepbrother cornering me in my room, and when I told my mother, all I got was a hard slap.

"So young and already no good, always telling lies."

Andrew was my only salvation; he'd split his snacks in half and give me some.

"Saul, from now on I've got your back."

People called me a wild orphan with no parents.

He'd charge in and fight them, and come back with a bruised face, still grinning at me.

"See, I won. Nobody's going to dare bully you anymore."

He was the one light of my entire adolescence.

So after his car accident, I wanted to give it everything I had to be good to him.

"Saul, Saul, wake up..."

I opened my eyes, my throat dry and raw, my whole body burning.

Michelle stood holding a thermometer, frowning.

"A hundred and two point seven, you've got a fever and you don't even think to go to the hospital yourself?"

"Do you really have to play the pitiful one and compete with Andrew for attention? Is that fun for you?"

"If Andrew weren't so kind-hearted and worried about you, if he hadn't insisted I come check on you, would you have just let yourself waste away like this?"

So it turned out that even being cared for when I was sick was something Andrew had handed me out of charity.

Looking at the face in front of me, still as beautiful as ever, I couldn't understand how the same person could change beyond all recognition.

In our third year together, our business failed, and we spent the winter huddled under an underpass.

I was running a high fever, with no money for a cab.

Michelle carried me on her back and walked five kilometers through the snow, her feet covered in blisters.

"Saul, once I have money, I'll never let you suffer again."

That pneumonia nearly took my life.

It was Andrew who secretly covered the medical bills.

His eyes red, he pointed at Michelle's face and swore at her.

"Michelle, if you can't give Saul happiness, then I'll take him away."

Back then, we held each other's hands, thinking we'd walk through life together forever.

How did the walking end with only me left alone?

My phone rang; Andrew had sent a confirmed pregnancy test result.

Michelle shot to her feet, cradling her belly, so excited she could barely string words together.

"I'm pregnant. I'm going to be a mom."

She turned to leave, then stopped at the door and turned back with a warning.

"Don't go making trouble for Andrew over this."

"He can't take that kind of shock. If anything happens to him, I won't forgive you."

Counting the days, she must have conceived on our wedding anniversary.

My head throbbed like it was splitting apart, and even breathing hurt.

A relationship between three people really is too crowded. I'll just step aside.

I was burning up with fever, weak all over, drifting in and out, with no idea how much time had passed.

Suddenly the door was kicked open, and Michelle stormed in, furious.

She slammed her phone down in front of me.

#Disabled Mistress Moves Right In#

#Andrew Fox Deserved to Lose His Leg#

The photos were close-ups of Andrew's stump, along with several pictures of the two of them embracing.

The comment section was full of cursing, ugly and vicious.

She opened another video. In it, Andrew's face was deathly pale.

"It's all my fault. I let Saul down."

"I'll atone with my life, so please stop attacking me..."

The video cut off abruptly, and Michelle jabbed a finger in my face.

"Saul, are you satisfied now?"

"Andrew slit his wrists. He's still in the emergency room."

"If anything happens to him, I won't live either. Three livescan you carry that?"

My head felt heavy and my legs light. I braced myself and tried to sit up.

"It wasn't me."

"If not you, then who?"

Michelle's eyes looked like they could tear a person apart.

"You're the only one who's seen his stump, and the only one who hates him."

"If you didn't leak it, was it him himself?"

I wanted to explain, but I didn't have an ounce of strength.

Michelle grabbed my arm and dragged me outside.

"Come to the hospital with me!"

"Once he wakes up, you apologize in public and set the record straight!"

When we got to the hospital, Andrew was lying quietly in the bed.

Michelle was called away to pay the bill, and Andrew slowly opened his eyes.

"You posted those photos yourself, didn't you?"

Andrew let out a soft laugh.

"I had no choice. Michelle keeps clinging to old feelings and won't bring up divorce with you."

"So I had to give her a little push."

"Aren't you afraid getting canceled will ruin you?"

He smiled, his eyes full of scheming.

"Afraid of what? Michelle will protect me."

As he spoke, he suddenly curled up, clutched his head, and began wailing.

"Saul, I'm begging you!"

"Spare my child, he's innocent!"

"I already promised you I'd leave once Michelle gives birth, so why are you still hitting me?"

Michelle strode over and shoved me hard to the side.

My back slammed into the sharp corner of the bedside table.

Agonizing pain shot through me, and in my daze I remembered that when Michelle's kidney failure hit, I was the one who gave her a kidney.

The spot I'd just struck was exactly where the wound was.

I clutched my side, in too much pain to stand, and reached out to grab the leg of her pants.

"Michelle, help me."

Before I could finish, Andrew let out a muffled groan.

"Michelle, my head hurts so much. Am I not going to make it?"

Michelle kicked me aside. "Saul, you're truly despicable."

With that, she helped Andrew up and ran out.

I couldn't hold on any longer through the pain and passed out.

When I woke again, I was in the hospital, the nurse looking at me with contempt.

"Your wound got infected. You nearly died."

The phone by my pillow kept buzzing.

A flood of calls and abusive messages from unknown numbers.

It turned out Michelle had posted a long statement online, saying our relationship had broken down long ago and that we were in the middle of divorce proceedings.

She said my love had turned to hatred, that I'd maliciously exposed a disabled person's privacy and driven him to slit his wrists, that I was vicious to the core.

She said she and Andrew were truly in love.

To back it up, she'd posted two videos as well.

In the videos, my mother sat in front of the camera.

"This son of mine has been no good since he was little. Chasing around with all sorts at such a young age."

"I warned him long ago, but he wouldn't listen..."

And then my stepbrother, all slouch and swagger.

"I'm not ashamed to say it and let everyone laughhe went out and worked as a gigolo in his teens."

"A man like that, nothing he does would surprise anyone."

I felt like my whole self was breaking apart.

One by one, the people closest to me had all betrayed me.

They even peeled back the scars I'd hidden away, one by one, and laid them bare for everyone to see.

The whole internet boiled over, calling me a scumbag, calling me utterly heartless.

The young nurse giving me my shot deliberately jabbed the needle off the mark, over and over.

The back of my hand went dark with bruises, and she never offered a single word of apology.

At the top of my messages, Michelle had sent one half an hour earlier.

"If you're awake, stop playing dead and publicly apologize to Andrew."

"Also, find the time to finalize the divorce. I don't want my child born carrying the label of a bastard."

I stared at the screen, and the pain spreading through my chest slowly settled.

I'd meant to leave quietly, so that from then on neither of us owed the other anything.

But they insisted on finishing me off, on grinding me into the mud.

Then I'm sorry.

This account, we're going to have to settle properly.

"Fine. I'll apologize."

Three days later, Andrew was discharged.

The hospital entrance was packed with online media and reporters.

The moment I appeared, curses rose from every direction.

I let it wash over me, my face calm.

"Today, I've come to apologize to Andrew Fox."

"On the screen is the apology letter I prepared with great care. Please, take a look."

The screen lit up.

The smile on Michelle's face froze.

Andrew's face went, in an instant, white as paper.