Everything changed after that.
She stopped trusting her body.
And I started feeling like I couldn’t protect her from something I couldn’t fight.
As soon as she saw me, she stood up too fast.
“Where the fuck you been? With that stripper bitch again that won’t stop commenting on your pictures?”
I sighed, calm. “Don’t start. I was with family. Trying to keep my sister off drugs and get her prepared for marriage.”
She laughed bitterly. “Least somebody getting married around this bitch.”
She tried to walk away, but I caught her wrist gently.
“Don’t start that either. You know why I put a ring on your finger but didn’t sign the license. I been with you since tenth grade. You had my first son. That’s deeper than paperwork and my last name. We solid, E.”
The nickname softened her, just a little.
“I’m scared, Zacian,” she said quietly. “I’m scared you won’t look at me the same when I can’t walk anymore or lose my vision. I already feel like you don’t.”
I lifted her chin.
“Who not gonna look at you the same?”
I kissed her slow.
Her lips trembled against mine.
It hit me then how long it had been since we’d really touched like this.
Almost a year.
Not because I didn’t want her. Because she stopped wanting herself.
She was twenty-eight now. Still beautiful. Still the same girl who used to run the hallways in high school and walk runwayslike she owned the world. She used to be a supermodel, but MS stole pieces of her confidence. The fatigue. The numbness. The way her legs gave out sometimes. The way she hated the nurse and nanny, even though she needed them.
I never cheated. Never even considered it.
Yeah, I handled my own shit when I needed release, but another woman? Nah.
I kissed her. Bought flowers. Gifts. Tried to make her feel seen.
But we stopped going out because she hated people staring at the walking brace she had to wear.
She pulled back just enough to look at me.
“You deserve to be pleased, Zacian. Just tell me you want somebody else.”
“I don’t deserve nothing, but you,” I said. “Sex don’t move me. You know that. Whenever you ready, I’m here.”
She exhaled shaky. “Thank you. I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
The mood shifted, softer.
“Dinner is in the oven,” she said, wiping her face. “I finally let the chef do her job.”
