Tyler's POV
I'd celebrated my engagement to Isabella Connor at Angel's hotel, but it still felt dreamlike to me anytime I remember - Isabella's sudden departure, her mother's disappointed gaze, and Isabella's fleeting, strained smile. The marriage was never about love at first. it was a business arrangement between our families. Warren Connor, Isabella's father, had been a close associate of my late father and a shareholder in my company. I thought merging our interests through marriage would be strategic. Little did I know that I would fall completely and hopelessly in love with Isabella as I spent so much time with her. Her infidelity shattered me. I'd started to accept our marriage, even finding Isabella's qualities appealing – her femininity, poise, and impeccable etiquette, which I believed would make her a great mother to my children. But her betrayal changed everything. But I was a fool to fantasize about illusions. First, I'd wanted to throw a punch to the face of the young man I'd seen her with. I didn't care about his name but he had seemed younger and youthful than I was. It had pushed me to think, was Isabella more impatient to have him in bed the very day we were having our engagement? Well, it was a good thing I found out sooner than later. The hurt left me numb, both physically and emotionally. I'd drowned my pain in alcohol, which clouded my vision. I hadn't drunk in years, but that day, I thought I'd hit the bottle hard. Regret consumed me – I shouldn't have taken Bessie, my prized Ferrari, out that day. The same crash that shattered my legs destroyed her. Dr. Twain, my doctor called my survival a miracle, an inexplicable twist of fate. Bessie's damage was hopeless – her body mangled, crushed where my legs had been pinned, then torn apart from roof to rear. What happened afterward? I couldn't feel anything. My legs were numb, shattered by the accident – shards of metal pierced my flesh, some lodged near my spine. I'd lost Bessie and my mobility. Given the trauma, I'd likely be in shock, grappling with grief and a new reality. Tell me, how do you think I would react to everything around me? I woke up to a reality that I couldn't feel my legs and I may never walk again. I may never be able to go places where my legs would require of me. I may never be able to walk up to a particular woman my heart desired...... To hell with women! To hell with them! Mother suggested taking a break from company affairs would do me some good while she attended to them, scooting to find me a caregiver. That drove me to the edge and resulted in making the previous caregivers leave earlier than expected. "She's your new caregiver, Tyler," Mother answered me, brushing some strands of nutmeg hair away from her eyes. "Haven't we been through this, mother?" My voice spiked high. My eyes sought the eyes of the lady sitting before my mother. She had eyes the color of the sky, dark, silky hair, and a dress the same as a nun's. "I do not need any more nannies, I am not a child," I put in, studying her. Her eyes held on to mine with straight composure which was striking demure. The previous women had been older, jerky at my outburst, and run helter-skelter whenever I wheeled past them. "She's not a nanny, Tyler. I am your mother and I know what's best for you. I can't leave you betide yourself. You might say you need no caregiver but you're my son that makes you my priority." I smirked, snapping my gaze from the pretty lady. "I see. I do not need your pity, mother. If you care about me, take my interest as your priority." "And to you, I think you better leave," I said to her before my hands settled on the wheels of my chair - taking a roll. Mother stood up to say something but stopped herself. I wasn't interested in hearing what she had to say. ****** My window overlooked the green field that stretched out widely towards the entrance. I didn't know how long I'd sat in my wheelchair watching as the evening faded into nothingness. Mother's shadow loomed over my door. I knew she was standing there - reconsidering the aspect of knocking on my door. Instead, she slipped an envelope through the tiny opening - just below the door. I sat still, watching nature, unsure of the content of the envelope, and not ready to read it either. Seconds later, Mother's Porsche drove through the lane that led to the brass gates of our home. Just as I thought my attention would wane, a vivid scene captured my gaze. The very same woman dressed in a pale dress sprinted across the lush green field, her voice ringing out in a loud voice. Naturally, that jolted me out of my skin. I thought she was a little mad. Her arms stretched out to the sides, airplane-like, as if she were soaring through the air. Unfazed by invisible onlookers, she seemed lost in her world. Was she alright? I thought to myself. The responsibility seemed daunting; I shouldn't be excited about watching my boss's son. "I don't care if you like me or not!" I caught snippets of her words. "Your mother likes me and that's all that matters!" She added, laughing to herself. I scoffed, not realizing that I was amused by her actions for a minute. She was talking about me to the wind. Interesting. And when she thought she was being scrutinized - she suddenly stopped laughing and yanked her head towards my window. Our eyes met, or so I thought – the tinted window screen obscured her view from the outside, but I could see her. She hugged herself, walking briskly back to the house. A light laugh escaped me. She must have sensed I had seen her. I wanted a spectacle - an act to amuse me further. A growing discomfort started to spread through me. I clutched my stomach, hating myself for being helpless. How was I to relieve myself? Mother usually came through for me at a time like this, but whenever she wasn't in - the caretaker would which was heartbreaking for me. Why now at a time like this? A glance around confirmed I was close enough to the toilet, and I silently wished this wasn't happening.
