Jed approached me, his voice laced with mock regret. "I need to tell you something. The truth is, I still like Polly. Now that you’re... well, like this, you can’t take care of her. Maybe it’s best if you two break up."
Despite his provocation, I didn’t explode. I didn’t fight. I just let out a cold laugh and replied, "Do whatever you want."
Still, my mother frowned and scolded me. "Jed is trying to talk to you nicely. Is that any way to respond?"
But contrary to them, Polly knelt in front of my wheelchair, her voice soft, almost pleading. "Even if Jed and I are together now, I won’t forget about you. I’ll still take care of you."
However, as her hand rested on my leg, a wave of nausea churned in my stomach, so I shoved her away again.
She hit the floor hard as a result and her forehead smacked against the table leg, forming a red lump immediately. She looked up at me, eyes wide with disbelief. For eight years, I had treated her like a queen, holding her above all else. I had never even raised my voice at her.
Hell, I respected her wishes so much I agreed to wait until marriage.
In her eyes, I would rather hurt myself than let her suffer.