My Paralysis Was His Online Romance Story

After I was paralyzed, my husband, Tony Gilbert, quit his high-paying job and spent five hard years taking care of me.

On Valentine's Day, I got a bouquet from him, but the card read: *To my beloved Hannah.*

I sat with that for a long time. That night, for the first time, I didn't take my sleeping pills, and I heard Tony on the phone with another girl.

"She didn't notice you sent the flowers to the wrong person?"

"No."

"We meet in three days. There's something I have to ask you. We've only been together three months online, and she's been with you for seven years. Can you really let her go?"

"I'm exhausted. She lost the use of her legs because of me, and I've taken care of her for five years. You have no idea how much I've given up."

Tony was turning every little thing he'd done for me into small talk.

They talked until the sky went pale with dawn.

I listened, and my tears soaked the pillow.

If Tony found it so hard, then I would let him go.

Tony came in the way he always did, carrying a cup of warm milk to me. "I put in a little dried blueberry."

Looking up at that gentle smile spread across his face,

I felt strangely unmoored for a moment, and asked on purpose, "I think I heard someone talking last night."

He froze, and something guilty flickered in his eyes.

"Really?"

"I was up working in the study all night. I didn't hear anything. It's probably the sleeping pills. I'll switch brands tonight."

He covered it with a smile.

I opened my mouth, wanting to say something, then swallowed it back and took a sip of the milk.

It tasted so bitter, so hard to get down.

Tony helped me get dressed, then went to catch up on sleep.

I took the chance.

I quietly picked up his phone and looked through it.

It was the first time I'd done that in five years.

I wanted to see what he and that woman were saying to each other.

I opened his messages.

When I saw that the name he'd pinned to the top of his contacts was "My Wife Hannah," something inside me clenched hard with pain.

A name that was supposed to be mine alone.

And somehow there was a second person

I opened the chat.

Hannah: *Next time, just tell her the doctor said skipping breakfast is better for her recovery. Then you won't even have to make the milk. So much easier.*

Tony: *You're the smart one. You actually think about me.*

The newest message from this morning came into view, and my hands started to shake.

A month ago, Tony had suddenly told me, "You shouldn't eat too much in the morning. A cup of warm milk is the healthiest thing."

I believed him. I thought he really was looking out for me.

It turned out it was his online girlfriend's idea.

It turned out he found me too much trouble.

Their chats went all the way back three months, to when they met on a dating app.

Her name was Hannah Summers.

In just two days, they'd made it official.

No wonder those days he kept saying he had design work and copy to write for clients, holed up in the study from morning to night.

Tony had even filmed the meals he made for me, and me being helped to the toilet and the shower, and sent it all to her.

Hannah would always reply: *You're amazing, sweetie! A patient man like you must be so gentle. Whoever marries you is one lucky girl.*

*Ugh, she's the one dragging you down. Otherwise you'd already be the CEO of some big company by now.*

*My heart breaks for you!*

At first, Tony would still put in a word for me.

*It's not really being dragged down. I chose this. If she hadn't pushed me out of the way back then, I'd be the one paralyzed.*

*And besides, she'd landed an offer from a big overseas company.*

But after half a month, Tony started griping right along with her.

*My Wife Hannah, you're right. However much I owed her, I've made up for it.*

*She can't cage my freedom!*

But I never once caged him.

The truth is, if Tony was tired of me, worn out, he could have just told me straight.

I'd have been hurt, but I wouldn't have stopped him.

We'd promised each other once that if the love died, we'd part. Instead he chose to keep playing the devoted husband.

Was it pity for me, the cripple?

Finally, I opened Hannah's page.

She was younger, prettier, healthier than me.

Even if I offered the exact same comfort, the same warmth, I'd still lose.

The day they meet in person,

I'll be gone.

At dusk, while I was painting, Tony came out of the bedroom.

"What made you decide to paint me?"

He stared at the canvas, puzzled.

"Three days from now is our wedding anniversary."

I turned my head.

"When the day comes, I'll take you camping."

Tony nodded. "You remember, seven years ago, that's where I proposed to you. On a camping trip."

Back then he'd set out flowers everywhere and gathered a crowd to cheer him on.

He'd said, "Through sickness and health, I'll never leave you, never give up on you! May you always bloom with the most beautiful smile, like this bouquet of roses in my hand."

But now.

He was preparing to leave.

And I had no smile left.

At dinner, Tony had made four dishes and a soup.

I froze.

A crisp cucumber salad, salted boiled shrimp, braised pork belly, spicy sauted eggplant, and tomato and egg soup.

The first two were things Tony didn't like. The last two were things I didn't like.

But yesterday Hannah had said she wanted to eat them and hoped he'd make them, so today he had.

He was so eager to please.

"Try the shrimp."

Tony snapped a photo, then peeled one and held it out to me.

"I'm allergic."

I said.

For seven years we'd kept track of what the other couldn't eat, and never once slipped up.

Now Tony had forgotten the whole thing.

It seemed he was completely lost in his new love.

"Look at me. Work's been wearing me out lately."

Tony laughed, embarrassed.

But I knew.

It wasn't work wearing him out. It was how thrilled he got talking to Hannah.

Deep in the night, with his sleeping wife right behind him, he'd be on a voice call with a young, pretty girl.

How exciting for him.

Before bed.

Tony still meant to carry me to my bath, the way he always did.

I refused. "Bring me the crutches. I'll wash up myself."

"Are you sure?"

Tony looked stunned.

"Mm. I'll have to do it on my own eventually. I can't keep troubling you."

I nodded.

"Since when do you stand on ceremony with me?"

Tony shook his head and smiled, then turned and brought the crutches over. "Go slow. Be careful," he told me.

I hadn't used crutches in so long that they still felt strange. Not even ten meters, and it took me ten minutes.

Tony kept watching the whole time, and only once he saw me go into the bathroom did he sit down and pick up his phone.

There was a faint, relaxed, happy smile at the corner of his mouth.

He must have seen a message from Hannah.

I tried to lean against the wall to wash, but one careless move and I went down.

My leg split open. I couldn't feel it.

But my arm burned, a big patch of skin scraped away.

My forehead struck the floor and bruised.

I didn't cry out.

Because.

In two more days, I'd be on my own. I had to get used to it.

When I finished washing and came out.

Tony calmly set down his phone, told me I'd done great, then took out three sleeping pills.

"Just bought them downstairs."

"The doctor said this kind works well. Guaranteed to keep you out till morning."

He didn't notice the bruise on my forehead at all. All he wanted was for me to fall asleep quickly so he could get on his voice call with Hannah.

I turned my face away, holding back the sting in my eyes, and answered, "I don't want to take these pills anymore."

Why?

Tony blinked. Dont you usually sleep badly? Either you cant fall asleep, or you have nightmares?

He wasnt wrong.

Five years ago, after the car crushed both my legs, I kept dreaming of them, bloody, ground into pulp.

Id jerk awake in a cold sweat and never manage to sleep again after that.

But even so.

I didnt want to live inside a lie.

Tony insisted, though, so I pretended to swallow the pill.

The moment he looked away, I spat it into the trash.

Just like last night.

Then he was chatting with Hannah again.

This time he asked what gift she wanted. She wanted a handbag.

Something around three thousand.

Tony agreed without a second thought.

In all the years wed been together, he had never once bought me a gift that expensive.

Then again, Id never asked for one.

I also heard Hannah offer to help him pick out my wedding anniversary gift.

It made Tony laugh out loud.

The next day.

Tony went out to meet a friend, and when he came back he was carrying two gift boxes.

He held out the one in his left hand.

I opened it and found a pair of rhinestone high heels.

They looked like something off a street cart.

Every seam left rough and unfinished.

So this was the gift Hannah had helped him prepare for me.

For a cripple like me, it was the cruelest kind of humiliation.

No wonder hed looked so pleased with himself.

Medicine keeps advancing these days. Im sure youll stand again one day.

Consider it my very best wish for you.

Tony smiled at me as he said it.

Dressing up humiliation as something noble, something upright.

I didnt answer. I looked instead at the gift box in his right hand.

That would be the three-thousand-dollar bag hed bought for Hannah.

A cousin of mine is coming to visit in a couple of days. That ones for her.

Having explained himself, he hurried the box off to the study.

Afraid I might take it from him.

I said nothing. I lowered my head and messaged my lawyer, asking him to draw up a divorce agreement.

Then I crossed to the canvas on my crutches.

One gift deserves another.

Let this painting be my gift for the day the two of them finally met in person.

But as I worked.

A wave of nausea hit me, exactly like morning sickness, so I went to the study and told him, Im not feeling well. Could you take me to the hospital?

Right now?

He had his headphones on. The smile at the corner of his mouth stiffened a little. Im kind of busy. Why dont you just take some medicine first?

We looked at each other for a few seconds.

You go ahead and stay busy, then.

I shut the study door, wheeled myself out alone, and had a few tests run.

Congratulations. Youre pregnant.

The doctor handed me the report. In your condition, with the injuries you had before, getting pregnant isnt easy at all.

I froze.

A few days ago Tony had come home drunk and pulled me into his arms.

I hadnt expected it to take.

I just didnt know whether, that night, hed been thinking of Hannah instead of me.

The truth was, wed always wanted a child.

But right then I couldnt bring myself to feel happy.

When I left the hospital and the taxi pulled up at the entrance to our complex, the rain came down in sheets.

It struck me like flung gravel.

By the time I got my wheelchair back inside, I was soaked through, and then I heard his voice ring out from the study.

Hannah, youre amazing! We won this round, all thanks to you!

The tears came.

I tugged my mouth into a bitter smile.

So he knew I wasnt home. Otherwise why would he shout like that?

Too busy gaming with Hannah to wonder where I might have gone.

He didnt come out until nearly dinnertime.

Honey.

Are you feeling any better?

He hadnt even noticed Id changed my clothes.

It looked like concern.

It was really just going through the motions.

But it didnt matter anymore.

One day left.

Then hed meet his online girlfriend in person and escape this misery.

And I would disappear.

That night, Tony got on a video call with Hannah.

"Baby," she cooed.

"Are my legs pretty? Are they nice and pale?" Hannah asked, giggling.

"Pale and long, like something out of a comic. I could play with them for a hundred years."

The excitement in his voice was hard to miss.

A wave of nausea rolled through me.

Not morning sickness.

Just disgust.

The next morning, for once, Tony wasn't sleeping in. Instead he dragged me out to go shopping for clothes.

He walked into a menswear store, picked out an outfit, changed into it, and asked me, "Honey, how's this one?"

"It's fine."

Then I asked, "You never bother about how you look. Why the sudden interest in picking out clothes?"

"Tomorrow's our anniversary, isn't it? Of course I want to look good." Tony gave a little smile.

But I wasn't stupid.

I knew exactly what it was. He was getting ready to meet Hannah in person.

He kept at it until dark.

Tony finally settled on two outfits and went home thoroughly pleased with himself.

That night, he didn't stay up. He went to bed early.

Clearly saving his energy for the next day.

After all, when two people who'd only known each other online finally met, it was all sparks and heat. He couldn't very well show up worn out.

When I woke in the morning, Tony suddenly said, "Honey, I'm sorry. A client took an interest in one of my design proposals."

"She just asked to meet today to go over the details, so the camping trip is off."

"Next time, okay?"

He stared straight into my eyes, as if terrified I'd say no.

"Okay."

I nodded.

Tony visibly relaxed, broke into a huge grin, kissed me on the forehead, and left.

I turned, pulled the cloth off the canvas, and added a few strokes to the board.

Finishing this gift.

Soon the lawyer came for me.

"Miss Henson, the divorce agreement you asked for."

He hesitated, then asked, "It's just, are you sure about this? Mr. Gilbert seems to love you very much."

"Does he? Maybe deep down he's wishing I were dead."

I shook my head.

Huh?

The lawyer was stunned.

I said nothing more. I picked up the pen, signed my name on the agreement, and set it in front of the board along with the pregnancy report.

Then I blocked Tony on every channel, took my luggage, and walked out without looking back.

The car moved down the road.

Through the window, I happened to catch sight of Tony.

He and Hannah, fingers laced tight together.

In the sunlight.

What a lovely picture.

I murmured to myself, "Tony."

"You're free now."

No tears.

No grief.

Only relief, like a weight lifted off me.

That night, while Hannah was in the bathroom, Tony sent Bess a message: Honey, this design's pretty complicated. The client brought their whole team to go over it. It'll probably run until tomorrow.

Get some sleep tonight, don't wait up for me.

The next second, a red exclamation mark popped up on the screen.

Tony's pupils shrank. He froze for a few seconds, then hurried to pull up the home security cameras.

And saw the moment I walked out the door with my luggage.