The moment I finished speaking, Vanessa's expression changed abruptly. She lunged at me like she'd lost control.

"Evelyn, you can't!"

There was clear panic in her voice as she reached out to snatch the phone from my hand.

I hadn't expected her to get physical. I couldn't dodge in time.

Her hand slammed into the armrest of my wheelchair, jolting my whole body.

The phone slipped from my grip.

In that split second as it fell, I quickly hit play.

The phone hit the floor hard. The video was already playing.

A soft, breathy voice spilled out from the phone.

"Julian… slower…"

The sound was jarringly loud in the hospital lobby.

Even those who had been watching from a distance leaned in, looking down.

The image on the screen was unmistakably clear.

In the video, Vanessa was straddling Julian, her body pressed against his.

His head tilted back, his hand gripping her waist, his expression lost in the moment.

The intimacy left no room for misunderstanding.

The crowd fell silent for a beat.

The next second, gasps erupted.

"Isn't that the same couple from earlier?"

"Holy hell, this guy really cheated!"

The crowd exploded into chatter.

"Didn't he just say she was making it up?"

"The video's right there!"

More people gathered, some already raising their phones to record.

Someone couldn't help but shout, "Wasn't he so tough when he slapped his wife just now?"

Someone suddenly frowned, staring at Julian.

"Wait… why does he look familiar?"

The person beside him immediately chimed in, "Damn, isn't that Julian Crawford from the Crawford Group?"

The chatter grew even louder.

Disdainful looks fell squarely on Julian and Vanessa.

I sat in my wheelchair, watching it all unfold.

The pain in my face hadn't faded.

But the pressure that had been building in my chest for so long finally began to ease.

Julian stood there, completely frozen.

He clearly hadn't expected things to spiral like this.

The woman who had stood beside him moments ago, graceful and composed, was now the target of everyone's whispers.

And he had been dragged into the same mess.

He turned to look at Vanessa.

Along with shock, there was a trace of resentment at being pulled down with her.

But Vanessa didn't look at him.

She stumbled toward the phone on the floor, picked it up in a panic, and fumbled to lock the screen.

The indecent audio cut off abruptly.

Her usually polished face had lost all color.

But everything that mattered had already been seen.

The air filled with overlapping voices.

Julian stood there, his expression dark as a storm.

He clearly realized there was no containing this anymore.

The next second, he turned sharply and walked straight toward the exit, not even glancing back at Vanessa.

He didn't look back once.

For a moment, I didn't react.

He just… left?

Leaving Vanessa behind.

Someone let out a cold laugh.

"He sure ran fast."

"So he just ditched his mistress the moment things blew up?"

Surrounded by whispers, Vanessa didn't chase after him.

She stood there, watching Julian's retreating figure, her composure cracking for a split second.

But the panic quickly vanished.

In its place came a strange calm.

Then she turned and smiled at me.

My chest tightened.

She walked over in her heels and stopped in front of my wheelchair.

She leaned down, close to my ear, and handed me the cracked phone. "Thank you."

I didn't understand for a moment. "What?"

Vanessa smiled, none of her earlier panic remaining—only a hint of satisfaction.

"Thank you," she repeated. "For giving me a chance to claim my place. If it weren't for this scene you made, who knows how much longer I would've had to wait."

My heart sank.

I suddenly realized—she had never been afraid of the video being exposed.

If anything… she had been ready to use it all along.

"Evelyn," she said with a soft laugh.

"You've held onto the position of Mrs. Crawford long enough," she paused, "It's time to give it back to me."

I frowned, about to respond.

A hand suddenly reached out.

It placed itself between me and Vanessa.

I froze and followed the hand with my eyes.

The man wore a white coat, his expression cold, his voice low and unquestionable.

"Security," he said, "this person is harassing my patient. Remove her."

The two guards the nurse had called quickly approached.

Vanessa let out a cold laugh and lifted her head, about to lash out.

But the moment she saw his face, she froze.

All color drained from her face.

"Mr… Mr. Sterling?"

Vanessa's voice nearly cracked.

I froze for a moment, then looked up.

I didn't know when Damian had gotten so close. One hand rested behind my wheelchair, his body leaning forward, almost enclosing me within his arms.

From where I sat, all I could see was the sharp line of his throat and the tension along his jaw.

So his last name was Sterling.

"She's my VIP patient." His voice carried a pressure that was impossible to ignore. "Miss Whitmore, please show some basic courtesy."

Vanessa froze.

Her gaze flicked back and forth between me and him.

After a moment, she let out a soft laugh. "I see."

She spoke slowly. "Evelyn, you move fast."

I frowned.

Before I could understand what she meant, she continued.

"So you're cheating too."

My whole body went stiff.

Vanessa looked as if she had found leverage, the smile on her lips growing sharper.

"Who's any better than who?"

She tilted her head, her eyes tinged with mockery.

"Tell me—if Julian finds out you're cheating, do you think he'll divorce you right away?"

My chest tightened.

I was about to speak, but she had already straightened up.

Her heels clicked sharply against the floor.

"But that works too. After all, the position of Mrs. Crawford was always meant to be mine."

With that, she turned and walked away.

The guards had already approached, but seeing her leave on her own, they didn't stop her.

The onlookers in the lobby were gradually dispersed.

The tension in my body finally loosened.

Only then did I realize how close I was to him—almost pressed against his body.

He was standing very close.

Close enough that I could smell the faint scent of antiseptic on him, mixed with a clean, subtle woody note.

The scent made me suddenly uneasy.

Instinctively, I tried to lean back.

But at that moment, a familiar wet sensation spread beneath me.

My legs weakened, and heat rushed to my face.

I bit my lip, trying to steady my breathing.

Damian quickly noticed something was wrong and glanced down at me.

His gaze lingered on my face for two seconds.

His brows slowly drew together.

"Miss Ashford." His voice dropped low. "Is it acting up again?"

I closed my eyes.

I couldn't speak, only giving a faint nod.

The hollow sensation inside me made it almost impossible to sit upright. There was only one thought in my mind.

I wanted the man in front of me.

He fell silent for a second.

The next moment, he had already moved behind me, pushing the wheelchair. "I'll take you to the treatment room."

I tried to refuse, but a low moan slipped out before I could stop it, startling me into clamping my mouth shut.

I leaned back against the chair, letting him push me, my mind completely blank.

I didn't know how long had passed before the wheelchair stopped outside an office.

He pushed the door open. The room inside was empty.

He wheeled me inside and closed the door behind him.

The room fell silent.

I forced my eyes open.

He was already standing in front of me, leaning down to examine me.

"This needs to be handled." He said it calmly, as if stating a simple medical fact.

I instinctively grabbed his wrist.

"Dr. Sterling…"

His hand paused.

My voice trembled. "I have a husband."

His gaze darkened, his expression hard to read.

After a moment, he let out a quiet chuckle.

"Miss Ashford." His tone was calm, controlled. "I'm a doctor. Relieving a patient's symptoms is my responsibility."

My hands had no strength left.

My whole body felt boneless, collapsing into the wheelchair. I kept my eyes closed, gripping the armrest unconsciously, my breathing uneven.

His slender fingers moved beneath me.

The hollow ache being filled bit by bit made me tremble.

"Ah…"

The sound slipped out before I could stop it. I froze, yet my body responded on its own.

The next second, his hand suddenly stopped, as if about to withdraw.

In that instant, everything vanished. Almost instinctively, I reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand closer.

The moment I realized what I had done, I froze.

What was I… doing?

I quickly let go, startled.

"I-I'm sorry…"

My voice was barely audible. I was too ashamed to even open my eyes.

A faint chuckle broke the silence.

He said nothing. He simply pulled a tissue from the side and wiped his hands clean at an unhurried pace.

His movements were composed, as if he had just completed a routine procedure.

Then, as if recalling something, he spoke. "Miss Ashford."

I opened my eyes.

He had already leaned down to my level, straightening my dress as he calmly asked, "Would you be interested in working as my secretary?"

I froze. "What?"

I thought I had misheard.

Working for him?

"I happen to have a project," he said casually. "A study on neural repair for the legs. I think you'd be interested."

My legs.

My throat tightened.

After years of paralysis, I had tried every treatment I could. None had worked.

He simply watched me and continued, "Didn't you study pharmaceutical research? I happen to need someone."

I nodded blankly.

"I did… but that was before I got married."

Over the years, I had almost completely abandoned my field.

After getting married, all my time revolved around Julian—handling company documents for him, helping him plan and strategize.

Rather than his wife, I was more like his unpaid secretary.

And yet, Julian had never even given me a single word of praise.

And I had accepted it willingly.

Thinking back now, even I found it absurd.

Damian didn't seem to care about any of that.

"It doesn't matter." He said, "If I say you can, then you can."

He paused, then added, "Of course, if you join the project team, I can also give you treatment."

My heart skipped.

"Treatment?"

What kind of treatment?

Damian's gaze fell to my legs. "Don't you want to stand again? If the project goes well, your legs still have a chance."

It wasn't the kind of treatment I had imagined. I let out a quiet breath.

But at the same time, there was a faint, subtle disappointment.

"If I agree… how long will it take?" After a moment of silence, I asked slowly.

"Two years," he said without hesitation. "On one condition—the project is confidential. You'll have to stay within the research team for those two years. You won't be able to freely contact the outside world during that time."

Two years.

Julian's face suddenly flashed through my mind.

"Okay."

Damian didn't seem surprised by my agreement at all.

"But—" I added, "I need to get divorced first."

Julian had just stood in the hospital lobby and said, in front of everyone, that he couldn't feel desire for a cripple like me.

Then there was no reason for this marriage to continue.

He said, "Alright. Do you need my help?"

Just like that, everything was settled.

By the time I left the hospital, it was already getting dark.

Before I left, Damian and I exchanged contact information.

"Hello, I'm the lawyer recommended by Mr. Sterling… Dr. Sterling. My name is Nathan Cole."

As soon as I got into the car, my phone rang.

"What are your requirements regarding the divorce?"

My conversation with Nathan was smooth, and he worked efficiently.

By the time I reached the entrance of my residential area, the electronic version of the divorce agreement had already been sent to my phone.

After returning home, I printed the documents and signed them myself.

I placed the divorce agreement on Julian's desk and took a deep breath.

Four years of marriage had come down to just a few sheets of paper.

Ending it like this wasn't such a bad thing.

I pushed aside the confusion in my mind and wheeled myself back to the bedroom, packing a few clothes.

There wasn't much to take.

Most of the closet was empty.

This home had never belonged to me. I just hadn't realized it until now.

By the time I dragged my suitcase into the elevator and headed downstairs, it was completely dark.

The moment the elevator doors opened, a familiar engine roar echoed outside.

Julian was back.