Chapter 16

He sat down on the bench, breathing hard, but smiling. "Six months ago, I ran a marathon," he said. "Today, I am proud of seven steps."She looked at him and said, "Seven steps in the right direction is better than a thousand steps in the wrong one."He laughed quietly. "I'm going to remember that."He looked back at the house again, at the large windows reflecting the gray sky. "In that house," he said slowly, "she thinks I am a sick man in a chair. She thinks I am scared. She thinks I am dependent on her." He looked down at his legs, then back at the stone path where he had just walked. "But every day, that story is becoming less true."He turned to the girl and said quietly, "At the wedding, there will be investors, board members, lawyers, friends—everyone. She expects to push me in that chair, say beautiful words, sign papers, and walk away with everything." He paused, then continued, "But instead, I am going to stand up."The girl nodded, not surprised."And when I stand up," he said, his voice calm and steady now, "I'm not just standing up from a chair." He looked toward the house one more time. "I'm standing up from the biggest mistake of my life."The house grew busier as the wedding approached. But the busier the house became, the more invisible he felt. People came and went with fabric samples, flower catalogs, menu options, music lists. The dining room table was covered in papers, color palettes, and guest lists written in neat handwriting that was not his.He sat at the table in his wheelchair while she and the wedding planner talked about centerpieces and lighting like they were planning a royal ceremony."This will be beautiful," the wedding planner said. "When you come down the aisle, everyone will already be emotional. And when you say your vows from the chair, there won't be a dry eye in the room."He noticed the way she said it: "When you say your vows from the chair." Like it was already decided, like it was part of the decoration, part of the story they were selling to the world: a beautiful, tragic story—a strong woman marrying a broken man, a loyal woman taking care of a man who lost everything. A love story. He almost admired how perfect the story sounded.That night, after everyone left, she poured him a glass of wine and sat across from him. "I know this hasn't been easy for you," she said softly, "but after the wedding, things will be calmer. We'll hire more help. You won't have to worry about the company anymore. You can just focus on getting better."Not worry about the company anymore. He looked at her and realized that she had been telling him the plan all along, just in gentle words, soft sentences, loving lies."And what if I don't get better?" he asked quietly.She reached across the table and took his hand. "Then I'll take care of you," she said. "That's what love is."He held her gaze for a few seconds and then smiled slightly. "You're very good to me," he said.She smiled back, satisfied, and squeezed his hand gently. "You saved me once," she said. "Now it's my turn to take care of you."If she noticed anything different in his eyes, she didn't show it.The next afternoon, in the backyard, he walked farther than ever before. The girl stood a few steps ahead of him on the stone path.

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