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His wheelchair Her Unbroken Love
His wheelchair Her Unbroken Love
مؤلف: Cynthia Atem

Chapter one

مؤلف: Cynthia Atem
last update تاريخ النشر: 2026-11-11 06:26:52

“I can't believe it, Angelina. Tomorrow. My first real job." I spun around in our tiny apartment, phone pressed to my ear, grinning like a child. "A nine-to-five. A real office. Me. I wish you were here to celebrate."

Angelina laughed on the other end. She was on a work trip.  "Slow down, Claire. You'll trip over something. I will be back tomorrow before you get back from work." 

This moment was priceless for me. I wished someone would cut me open right now to see the butterflies dancing in my stomach. "I don't care if I trip. I'd trip in a suit, in my own office, with my own name on the door." 

I dropped onto my bed and stared at the ceiling, swinging my legs. "Head of Consultation. At Northgate Logistics. The biggest logistics company in New York, Angie. Do you know how big that is?"

"I know. You've told me nine times today. Ten now." 

I hugged my pillow.  It's all because of Mr. Ranord. He didn't have to recommend me. He was my lecturer, but he treated me like family. He put his name on the line for me."Mr Ranord had always believed in me. I didn’t expect such a big opportunity.”

"He believes in you. We all do." Angelina paused. I heard a small change in her voice, soft and careful. "Claire. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." 

"It's Peter's father's company, isn't it? Northgate." Another pause. "Do you think you'll see him again?"  The pillow slipped from my arms. For a second I couldn't speak. The name landed in my chest like a cold stone. Peter. I hadn't said that name out loud in three years. I hadn't let myself. I sat up slowly, my heart suddenly loud in my ears.

"I don't know," I whispered. "I don't even know if he's still in the UK or if he is back. I sent him messages, so many messages for months. He never replied. Not once."

"Claire…"

"It's fine," I said it too fast. It's a huge company, hundreds of people. I probably won't even go near the top floor. I'm just there to work. I told myself, forcing a laugh, but it came out thin. "It's fine."

Angelina didn't push. She knew me. "Okay. Then kill it tomorrow. You earned this." We said goodnight. But long after the call ended, I lay in the dark, staring at nothing, that one name circling in my head like a ghost.

***

Morning saved me. I woke up before my alarm; the fear from last night washed clean by sunlight,  stupid excitement. I ironed my blouse twice. I changed my shoes three times. I stood in front of the mirror and whispered, "You are the head of consultation at Northgate Logistics," until it started to feel real.

***

The building swallowed me the moment I arrived. Glass and steel, reaching into the sky. People moved fast, badges swinging, coffee in hand. I tilted my head back and just breathed it in. This was it. This was the dream. "Miss Miller?"

A young woman hurried toward me with a warm smile and a tablet pressed to her chest. "I'm Mary. I'll be your assistant. Welcome to Northgate." She led me through the glass doors, past rows of desks, into an elevator that climbed and climbed. "Everyone's so excited to meet you. Mr. Ranord spoke very highly of you before he retired." 

He didn’t tell me how beautiful this place looks from the inside. "That means a lot. Mr. Ranord taught me everything I know, so I'll do my best to make him proud." I replied. My office had my name on the door. My name. I ran my fingers over the letters and felt my eyes sting. I did it, Mr. Ranord. I actually did it.

Mary showed me my desk, my computer, the view of the whole city behind the glass. I sat in my chair and spun it once, slowly, like a kid. I could do this. I belonged here. I was barely two minutes into reading my first file when my desk phone rang.

"Miss Miller?" A crisp voice. "This is the CEO's assistant. He'd like to see you in his office. Immediately, please."

 I straightened up fast. "Oh. Yes. Of course. Right away." I hung up and pressed a hand to my stomach. The CEO, on my first morning already. My mind ran wild please be kind. Don't be one of those cold, arrogant bosses you see in movies, the ones who make you cry in the bathroom by lunch. Please just be normal. Just be nice.

"Mary?" I leaned out of my office. "Which way is the CEO's office?" She pointed down the long hall. "End of the corridor. The big doors. You can't miss it." I smoothed my blouse,  breathed in, out, and walked.

Each step echoed. The corridor felt longer than it should. The big doors waited at the end, dark wood, shining. I stopped in front of them and pressed my damp palms against my skirt. First impressions matter, Claire. Head up. Smile. You earned this.

I knocked once. No answer. I pushed the doors open and walked in, smile ready, words ready on my lips. "Good morning, I'm Claire Mill…"

The words died in my throat.

He was sitting behind the desk. Still. Watching me. The morning light cut across his face, sharper and colder than I remembered, but it was him; it was really him. The same eyes, the same mouth that used to laugh at my terrible jokes. Peter Stargard.

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  • His wheelchair Her Unbroken Love   chapter Seven

    There are two kinds of silence. There is the silence of a man who has nothing to say to you, and there is the silence of a man who has too much, and Peter Stargard had given me both in the space of one weekend. I had spent two whole days replaying that gala, his flat voice, the words about my father, the way he had turned his chair away from me like I was a stain he wanted to forget. So when Monday morning came, I walked into Northgate with my chin up and my heart in my shoes, and I told myself the same thing I had told myself a hundred times: the truth, I need to know what truly happened. But I still had a job to do, and I was going to do it well. "Morning, Miss Miller!" Mary was already at her desk, bright and cheerful, a cup of coffee in each hand. She handed me one. "How was your weekend? Long one, huh?""You have no idea," I said."Ooh, I bet." She followed me into my office, lowering her voice like we were sharing a secret. "So. Everyone's been talking. Is it true? You and the

  • His wheelchair Her Unbroken Love   chapter Seven

    Claire's POVI didn't go back to my apartment; the moment those doors closed behind Peter, I was already walking to my car, heels in my hand, cold pavement biting my feet, my whole body moving on one single thought. “My father. I have to see my father.”The whole drive, my head spun with memories. My father, standing in the kitchen, telling me that a lie was the one thing he could never forgive. My father, grounding me for a whole week when I was nine because I said I'd finished my homework when I hadn't. The quiet, careful, honest man who made me give back a pen I'd borrowed from a classmate without asking, who sat me down and said, “Claire, your word is the only thing you truly own.” He was my hero, the whole reason I became the woman I am. And now Peter's voice kept cutting through all of it. “ Your father. The great reporter, he wrote a story, and it caused my mother’s death.”I pressed my foot harder on the gas. I needed to see his face, I needed him to look me in the eyes a

  • His wheelchair Her Unbroken Love   Chapter Six

    Liam's POVClaire Miller, after three years of saying her name only in my own head and telling myself I would never see her face again, was back in my life, now working in my company. I never saw myself attending the reunion gala this year, when somebody mentioned in the group chat that Claire would be there. I made my decision days ago, not this year. Then Bernard called. "Don't tell me you're skipping it," he said. "Peter, you skip everything, you skip dinners, birthdays, and now the one night a year our old classmates remember we exist.""I'm busy," I said, the only excuse that came to my mind at that moment."You're hiding." He said it kindly, which somehow made it worse. "I've been your doctor since that night. I know all your excuses by heart. Come to the gala one night. Get a life outside your office and that empty house.""And if she's there?" I paused and asked."Then you'll finally get to face it instead of running," Bernard whispered. I told him no three times, then I let

  • His wheelchair Her Unbroken Love   chapter five

    Five years of a love I kept alive all by myself, in a room no one else could see, because I was so sure that one day he'd come back to me. And he had come back to announce he belonged to someone else.Beside me, Angelina found my hand under the table and held it tight. "Breathe," she whispered. "Claire. Breathe." Just as I was about to look away, Peter finally turned his head. For one single second, across all those laughing people, his eyes found mine and held them; then he looked away and smiled at the crowdThe music grew softer as the night wore down. Plates were cleared, goodbyes were said, and the grand hall slowly emptied, people drifting toward the doors in little clusters of laughter and perfume. I watched Peter the whole time, through every toast, every handshake, every photo someone pulled him into. His engagement sat in my chest like a swallowed stone, heavy and sharp, and underneath it burned a single, desperate need. Answers. I had waited five years in the dark. I would

  • His wheelchair Her Unbroken Love   Chapter four

    The morning of the reunion gala, my bed screamed from the mess I had created just to get the perfect outfit."You look perfect, stop it," Angelina said, swatting my hands away from the mirror. She was already in deep blue, glowing, while I stood there in soft gold, my heart beating somewhere up in my throat."What if he's there?" I whispered."That's the whole point, isn't it?" She fixed a loose curl by my face and met my eyes in the mirror. “You want to talk it, no office, just the two of you and ten years of history." She smiled. "Breathe, Claire. Tonight you find out what happened." That was all I wanted. I held onto those words the whole way there.***The gala was beautiful, held in a grand old hall with chandeliers and soft music and round tables dressed in white. The moment we walked in, familiar faces turned and lit up. "Claire Miller! No way!""Angelina, you haven't aged a day!"We were swallowed into hugs and laughter, old classmates pulling us into stories half remembered.

  • His wheelchair Her Unbroken Love   Chapter three

    {claire’s POV}"Peter." His name left me before I could stop it, soft and trembling, full of three years of silence. It was really him. After all this time, after the unanswered messages, after the ocean between us, he was right there, close enough to touch. My eyes dropped to the wheelchair, to the blanket over his legs, and for half a second my heart cracked. Then it didn't matter. It honestly didn't matter. Wheelchair or not, standing or sitting, he was still the boy who held my hand under the bleachers, still the face I'd loved since I was fifteen. My whole body moved before my brain did."Oh my God, Peter, it's you, it's really you." I rushed around the desk, arms already open, ready to throw myself at him, to feel him again, to laugh and cry and ask where he'd been all this time. He lifted his hand, not to hug me but to stop me."Miss Miller." His voice was flat and cold, a stranger's voice. He held out that raised hand, stiff and formal, waiting. "Welcome to Northgate Logistic

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