Chapter 2

The thought of him messing around with some other girl and then trying to be sweet with me made my stomach flip—I started gagging.

Matthew rushed over, his face etched with concern.

The closer he got, the stronger the other woman's perfume that had clung to him permeated the air.

I shoved him back and raced my wheelchair to the bathroom.

Hunched over the toilet, I could not stop heaving. When the waves of nausea eased a bit, I caught sight of a pregnancy test gleaming on the shelf by the sink.

My hands shook as I stood and grabbed it.

Two red lines stared back at me.

I looked at it for what felt like forever; my heart twisted in pain and confusion.

Since my legs stopped working, Matthew and I had not been close for months.

Then, he had not only cheated with his assistant but knocked her up, too.

Matthew came after me, his voice laced with panic. "Wendy, what's wrong? Do you feel sick?"

He clung to me tightly, his face all worried, treating me like I was something precious.

However, his concern seemed like a cruel joke after what he had just done with someone else.

Matthew was such a phony.

I pushed him off and put some space between us.

"Maybe I'm just not feeling great. I've been a bit queasy for days, but it's no big deal," I said, lying.

I did not want to deal with him more than I had to. I tucked the pregnancy test away and spun my wheelchair, ready to bolt, but Matthew looked frantic.

He was such a clean freak.

However, he did not care about the mess from my puking, and he grabbed me in a tight hold once more.

"Sorry, I've been swamped with work lately and haven't had the time to look after you. It's my bad for not being there, especially when getting around is tough for you," he said, gripping my hand with a look of genuine concern.

He guided me back to my room and offered to help me change into fresh clothes. I turned him down, managing to dress myself while seated in my wheelchair. It was a small victory—the first time since we got married—that I did not need his assistance.

Matthew's hand, which had been casually resting by his side, tensed.

I ignored the shift in his mood and settled back into bed as if nothing had happened.

Matthew pulled the covers up to my chin with a gentleness that seemed out of place.

"Wendy, I know I've messed up, not being there for you. Don't be mad, okay? Tomorrow's our anniversary. Why don't I clear my schedule so we can spend the day together?"

Matthew was a force to be reckoned with at work—a man of action. However, around me, he turned into someone else—cautious and considerate. It left a sour taste in my mouth.

'Matthew, do you really love me, or is this just another one of your performances?' I wondered.

Sleep was tugging at my eyelids, and Matthew stayed close by my side as I was about to give in. However, his phone broke the silence with a single ping.

He silenced it quickly, but not before I heard it.

In the dim light, I could feel his eyes on me. I did not give any sign that I had noticed, and after a moment, he picked up the call.

"Matt, you went too far tonight. I'm aching all over. Get me some ointment, will you?"

"I'll be right there," he whispered.

He glanced at me one more time, and seeing no reaction, he stood up and left the room.

I gripped the sheets, fighting back tears. So the assistant was still around? He had kept her upstairs?

Were they so reckless because I could not climb the stairs?

I told myself to hang in there; I would be out of his life for good in just seven days.