All Chapters of His wheelchair Her Unbroken Love: Chapter 1 - Chapter 8

“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 na

{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

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

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