I loved Clara deeply. When she was in danger, I didn't hesitate to save her, even at the cost of my own life. The incident left both my legs broken and confined me to a wheelchair, but she promised we'd marry once she passed her medical boards.

To help her focus on her studies, I worked tirelessly, wheeling myself around day and night to make ends meet. But behind my back, she rekindled her relationship with Caleb Carter, her childhood sweetheart.

One day, I found her in his arms, laughing and happy. I confronted her, demanding to know why she'd betrayed me. She responded by shoving me to the ground, treating me like I was worthless. Then she pulled a scalpel from her medical bag, her hands steady as she held it over my chest.

"Caleb needs a heart transplant to live," she said. "Please, help me one last time."

In the dead of night, my legs throbbed with unbearable pain, making sleep impossible. I reached for my painkillers in the bedside drawer, only to find the bottle empty.

Frustrated, I struggled to sit up, my useless legs dragging across the sheets. Gripping the armrest of my wheelchair, I heaved myself over. The landing was rough - my ankle caught the edge, tearing off a chunk of skin.

Looking at my bleeding ankle, I let out a bitter laugh. What cruel irony that legs that can't walk can still feel such pain.

A dull ache spread through my body, making me wince. Since the accident, painkillers had become my constant companion. Sometimes I wondered if complete numbness would be a blessing - for both me and Clara.

I wheeled myself out carefully, trying not to disturb Clara's studying. Her medical boards were tomorrow, and she'd promised we'd marry once she passed.

I'd watched her work tirelessly all year, and I truly believed she would succeed. I also wanted to believe that life wouldn't be so cruel to me again.

After taking the painkillers, I still couldn’t fall asleep. So, I slowly wheeled myself to the doorway of Clara’s room. The soft glow of her lamp filtered through the crack under the door, and I could hear the faint sound of her typing. I leaned back in my wheelchair, a proud smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Since I couldn’t sleep anyway, I might as well quietly keep her company.

"I'm so exhausted..." I heard her whisper, making me sit up straighter. I backed away quietly, not wanting to startle her.

"I'll ace tomorrow's exam. Just wait for my good news," she said.

My smile at her words died instantly as she continued.

"I miss you so much. God, I can't even look at Leon Marshall anymore. If it weren't for you, I couldn't stand being near him for a single day."

"It makes my skin crawl when he touches me. Even the way he looks at me is revolting. Who does he think he is? He's crippled, yet he still has the nerve to think about... those things."

I couldn't bear another word. In my hurry to escape, I crashed into the coffee table in the darkness. The wheelchair tipped, leaving me sprawled on the floor.

Clara's door burst open, flooding the room with light and exposing my humiliation. Her face twisted with disgust before she reluctantly approached.

"Leon, I have my exam tomorrow. Can't you keep quiet for one night?"

She roughly yanked the wheelchair upright and dragged me across the floor, shoving me back into it like a piece of trash. I kept my head down, fists clenched, as she immediately pulled out a tissue and scrubbed her hands raw, as if my touch had contaminated her.

Looking up at her, I already knew the answer, but I had to ask: "If you pass tomorrow, will you still keep your promise to marry me?"

The day Clara's exam results came out, she vanished.

My calls went unanswered. I wheeled anxiously around our apartment until dusk, unable to sit still any longer. Finally, I decided to go look for her.

Our apartment was in a run-down complex with poor maintenance. The hallways were narrow and dim, with burnt-out bulbs no one ever replaced. Just maneuvering my wheelchair past the cluttered corridor was a challenge. The tight space and my useless legs made it nearly impossible - after an hour, I'd barely made it halfway out.

In frustration, I slammed my fists against my legs. "Why?" I shouted. "Why did both my legs have to be ruined?"

Tears slipped between my fingers as I covered my face. I wiped them away roughly, telling myself nothing was certain yet. Clara might resent me, but she hadn't actually ended things. As long as she kept her promise, I still had hope.

Just as I steeled myself to try again, my phone buzzed. An anonymous message with a photo attached.

Though the image was blurry, Clara's smile was unmistakable. She was nestled in a man's arms, his hand wrapped possessively around her waist. He stared directly into the camera with a smug grin. I recognized him instantly - Caleb Carter, her childhood sweetheart.

In a blind rage, I smashed everything within reach in the hallway. Then I grabbed my wheels and rushed out, ignoring the pain in my hands. I had to confront Clara about her betrayal.

But fate wasn't kind.

The neighbors whose property I'd damaged called the police.

At the station, they surrounded me, shouting and demanding unreasonable compensation.

How could I pay?

I'd given everything to Clara. During her year of exam preparation, I'd supported her completely - paying for her food, rent, everything. I'd worked myself to exhaustion, selling sketches for pennies.

To save money for her studies, I'd bought only the cheapest painkillers.

I'd thought once she passed, it would all be worth it. Instead, she'd betrayed me.

My hands shook as I stared at her number, finally finding the courage to call again. This time, she answered immediately.

Hearing her voice, words failed me. Looking at the angry crowd, I could only laugh bitterly. "The results are out. Did you pass?"

After a long pause, she answered quietly, "Yes."

My lips trembled, and suddenly I lost all desire to confront her. Maybe someone like me didn't deserve happiness.

Clara was extraordinary - beautiful, ambitious, and determined. She belonged in the light. And now, I wasn't good enough for her. I couldn't blame her.

Fighting back tears, my throat tight, I forced out the words: "Let's break up."

Unable to pay for the damages, I faced legal action from the neighbors, forcing the police to detain me.

Clara arrived while I was processing the detention paperwork. She stood before me in a red dress, perfectly styled and made up. I tensed, instinctively trying to move my legs, but they remained heavy and unresponsive.

"Why did you come?" I asked, tasting blood from my bitten lip.

Clara's eyes betrayed her disgust, though her words were gentle. "If you hadn't saved me two years ago, I'd be dead now.

"So don't talk about breaking up. I'll keep my promise.

"Once I start at the hospital, we'll get married."

She moved to take my hand but recoiled at the sight of dirt and dried blood. I forced a smile and hid my hand, matching her gesture.

Clara paid to settle everything, and the police released me.

On the ride home, she stared out the window, avoiding my gaze. At our building, she tipped the driver generously to help me into my wheelchair and up to our apartment.

As she rushed toward the bedroom, I called out, "Clara, I haven't congratulated you yet. Can I get you anything to celebrate?"

She paused, glancing back. "No need. It's late—just clean up and rest. I'm exhausted."

I stared at the photos on my phone, swallowing my questions. She'd promised to marry me; I shouldn't ask for more. What did it matter if her heart belonged to someone else, as long as she stayed?

For two months, I barely saw her. Apart from taking me for a medical checkup last month, she was always gone—leaving early and returning late. Without waiting up, I'd never see her at all.

At midnight, fighting sleep, I waited by the door, counting seconds.

Just before dawn, I heard keys in the lock. I straightened up, fixing my clothes and forcing a smile as I reached for the door. But Clara opened it before I could help.

Her nervous eyes met mine, then I noticed the man behind her. Though I knew, I still asked, "Who's this?"

Clara avoided my gaze and handed Caleb a pair of slippers. "Come in, we'll talk."

As he changed his shoes, I fixated on the lipstick stain marking his white collar. I couldn't ignore it. "You and him..." I started, clenching my fists.

Clara slammed the door, making me jump.

"You—" I tried again.

She stared down at me, then spoke softly. "Two years ago, you sacrificed your legs for me. You worked yourself to exhaustion supporting my medical school dream.

"I'm grateful for everything. There's one last thing I need. If you agree, we'll marry, okay?"

I watched her hands shake on my wheelchair. Numbly, I nodded. "What is it?"

Clara looked past me to Caleb. "I need your heart... to save Caleb's life."