Three days before my wedding, I got hit by a car. My spine was broken.

Jonah Stafford, my fiancé, made sure the person responsible went to prison. But as I laid in that hospital bed, none of it mattered. I didn’t want to wake up. I didn’t want to face the reality of never walking again.

Somewhere between the pain and the haze, I heard Jonah talking to the doctor.

"We still have time for surgery. But if we wait a few more days, Greta will be permanently disabled. If you just want Naomi as your bride, fine, but why risk her life?"

Jonah sighed like this was all a burden to him. "If she’s disabled, I’ll have to take care of her forever. But, if she recovers, she’ll cause trouble at the wedding."

My breath caught in my throat.

"I promised Naomi I’d bring her into the Stafford Family. If Greta is completely disabled, she’ll have no choice but to accept my child as her own. At least that way, she won’t mistreat her."

A single tear slipped down my face.

So that was it. The wedding I had been looking forward to was a lie. The love I had believed in was nothing but a death sentence.

Fine. If this was what he wanted, I would give it to him.

——

"Just follow the plan," Jonah said. "Make sure the hysterectomy is done cleanly, she can’t find out."

The doctor wiped his forehead, looking uneasy. "Are you sure? Greta is already paralyzed on one side. If you take away her ability to have children too… what’s left of her? How will she even face your family?"

He hesitated, then lowered his voice. "And what about your child with Naomi? The girl is three. She looks just like you. If Greta finds out, everything could fall apart."

Jonah reached out and gently wiped my dry lips with a wet tissue, over and over again. His touch was careful, almost tender, but it meant nothing now.

His voice was low, filled with something that almost sounded like regret. But not for me. "She won’t find out. As long as she’s disabled, she’ll have no choice but to stay in the Stafford Manor. She won’t be able to step outside, let alone cause trouble."

He exhaled slowly, like he was carrying a weight. "I promised Naomi a grand wedding. I promised I’d watch our children grow up together. Even though she’s married someone else now, I’ll make sure she never has to worry about a thing."

The doctor beside him let out a sigh and glanced at my face. "She’s a good woman. You grew up together and yet you… Never mind. It’s not my place." He shook his head. "If you’re set on this, I won’t say anything more."

Jonah’s tone hardened. "Just make sure the surgery is clean. No scars. No mistakes. Do it while she’s still unconscious, I don’t want her to suffer more than necessary."

The doctor hesitated for a moment, then left. Jonah pulled out his phone and sent a voice message to his assistant. "Did the driver slip up? Make sure he sticks to the plan. Give his family five hundred thousand dollars and move them out of the city. Greta can’t ever find out."

A fresh wave of tears slid down my cheeks, disappearing into the pillow.

Jonah kept wiping my body with warm water, his hands steady, his movements almost soothing. But no matter how much warmth he pressed into my skin, I couldn’t stop shivering.

The wedding I had been looking forward to for five years was never mine. It was always meant for Naomi. And that car accident wasn’t an accident at all.

He had set it up. I was nothing more than an obstacle in his way. Everything—the love, the promises, the perfect future I thought we had—was a lie.

I tried to open my eyes, to fight back, but before I could, a sharp sting spread through my veins. Anesthesia.

As they wheeled me toward the operating room, Jonah leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. His voice was gentle, almost affectionate. "Just rest, Greta. It'll be over soon."

The cold surgical tools dug into my body. The pain barely registered. My heart had already gone numb.

When I opened my eyes, I was already back in the hospital ward. The numbness hadn’t changed, I still couldn’t feel anything below my waist.

Jonah sat beside me, his expression tense. The second he noticed I was awake, his face softened with concern.

He took my hand and pressed it against his cheek. "Greta? You’re awake. Do you feel okay? If anything hurts, I’ll call the doctor right now."

His voice was gentle, his touch careful—just like always. But his eyes… they were empty. It was almost impressive, how well he could fake it.

I gave him a small smile, reaching up to brush my fingers over the rough stubble on his chin. "You didn’t sleep, did you? I’m fine, Jonah. You should rest."

He exhaled, nodded slightly and within minutes, he was fast asleep. I glanced at his phone on the nightstand. Without thinking, I picked it up and unlocked it.

The wallpaper was still the wedding photo we took in advance. It felt ridiculous now.

His message app was still open in the background. At the top of his chats was Naomi. I tapped in. The messages were simple, but each one felt like a gut punch.

[Janelle called for her dad again today. She already knows how handsome you are. She’s going to be trouble when she grows up.]

[Janelle ate the cake you sent, finished every last bite.]

[She won’t stop asking to go to the amusement park with you. I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t listen. Come if you can.]

Jonah hadn’t replied with words, but under every photo, there was a two-hour video call log. I remembered when he once told me he didn’t like kids.

Now I knew the truth. It wasn’t that he didn’t like children. He just didn’t like mine. I checked his gallery. There was a private album for Naomi. The password? The child’s birthday.

Over five thousand photos. Three years of memories that had nothing to do with me. Jonah was there for every holiday, every special occasion.

The second chat in his messages was with the wedding planner. From the very start, he had put Naomi’s name down.

The dress was her size. The invitations had both their names on them. I was never meant to be part of that wedding.

I let out a quiet laugh and closed the app. No point reading any further. Instead, I reached out to my best friend, asking her to find me a hospital abroad.

I filed to cancel all my documents in Tianora. She didn’t question it. She just assumed I had finally woken up, finally seen Jonah for who he was.

She was relieved. Every message she sent was full of excitement, happy that I was finally letting go. I set my phone down and drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up, Jonah was crying. He was gripping a hospital report, his whole body trembling. "Greta." His voice cracked. "The doctor found something during your exam. You—" He swallowed hard. "You were born without a uterus. You can’t have children."

I didn’t react. Just stared at him.

"It’s okay," he said quickly. "I don’t care about that. You’re gonna be my wife and that won’t change. Once you’re discharged, we can adopt. A child will help you recover, I promise. Everything will be fine."

I was the one who had supposedly lost something, yet he looked more devastated than me. His performance was almost flawless.

I didn’t call him out on it. I just let the silence stretch, watching him clutch that report like it was the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

After a long pause, he wiped his tears and nodded, as if making some kind of deep, emotional decision. Then he pulled me into his arms.

"I swear, I’ll take care of you," he whispered. "No matter what people say, I’ll always stand by your side. And once we’re married, I’ll transfer all my assets to you. I just want you to be safe."

His chest was pressed against mine, but our heartbeats weren’t even close to matching.

Jonah hesitated for a moment before finally speaking. "The wedding is already planned. Since you're still recovering, you might have to..."

"Find someone to stand in for me so the Stafford Family doesn't lose face," I cut in, already knowing what he was getting at.

Rather than waiting for him to put me in a weaker position, I took control. At least this way, I could keep some dignity.

He looked a little surprised by my reaction but didn’t push it. He had already gotten what he wanted. Then my phone buzzed.

Jonah glanced at the screen and frowned. "Greta, what documents did you cancel?"

I quickly deleted the message and kept my voice steady. "Nothing important. Just an expired document. I updated it online."

He didn’t question it, just pulled me closer, his voice full of concern. "You’re still recovering. If you need anything, just tell me. I’ll handle it for you."

I looked up at him and smiled. "Jonah, I want to be discharged."

His expression shifted instantly. "No. You're not fully healed yet. I can't agree to that."

I tugged on his arm, playfully swaying it. "Didn’t you say we should adopt a child? There’s a nanny at home, I’ll be fine. I just want to visit the orphanage and look around, okay?"

In five years, this was the first time I had ever acted sweet with him.

Jonah hesitated, then gave in. On the way, he reached into the backseat and pulled out a bag of cakes, placing them in front of me one by one.

"I got these just for you," he said, but then I noticed the packaging—suitable for young children.

I closed the bag, tossed it aside and leaned back. "My stomach feels off," I muttered, shutting my eyes.

This five-year lie had gone on long enough. It was time to end it.

As soon as we stepped into the orphanage, I sat in a wheelchair. A little girl came running over and threw her arms around Jonah’s legs, clinging to him like she had known him forever.

"Dad!" she called out excitedly.

Jonah stiffened. His expression changed for a split second before he quickly composed himself. Worried I might get suspicious, he rushed to explain. "Don’t get the wrong idea. I sponsor this orphanage and have visited a few times. She’s just an orphan who started calling me that."

I nodded, smiling as I gently touched the girl’s cheek. "She looks a lot like you. If you hadn’t told me otherwise, I would’ve thought she was your daughter. What’s her name?"

"Janelle," he said. Then, without giving me a chance to respond, he added, "She’s the one we’re going to adopt."

Before he could explain further, Janelle suddenly started crying, calling out for her mother. Jonah’s face drained of color. He shot me a nervous glance.

I gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. Go comfort her. She’s beautiful, like her too."

Relieved, Jonah stopped hesitating and carried Janelle into the office. I took the chance to slip away, pretending I needed the restroom. But just as I was about to turn the corner, I overheard a conversation from behind a slightly open door.

"Why did Mr. Stafford tell his child to pretend to be an orphan?" one staff member whispered. "Look at her clothes. They cost more than my entire salary. Who would believe she’s an orphan?"

"You don’t get it," another voice responded. "He set this all up. It’s the only way to bring the kid into the Stafford Family without raising suspicion. Just keep your mouth shut around Ms. Winslet."

"So Mr. Stafford’s heart still belongs to Ms. Jacobs," someone else sighed. "They used to volunteer here together back in college. I always had a feeling something was going on between them. Guess I was right. A man and a woman under the same roof... who knows what’s happening now?"

Their laughter felt like a crushing weight on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I instinctively wheeled myself closer to the door, just in time to hear a voice I knew all too well.

"Did she agree?" a woman asked.

"Yeah," Jonah replied casually. "She’s abroad most of the time, so there are things she can’t keep track of. This works out perfectly. She won’t ever find out about Janelle and she’s even willing to adopt with me."