After My Diagnosis, My Cruel Wife Went Crazy

For three years, my wife, Seraphina, pretended to be paralyzed, confined to a wheelchair.

The night the yacht caught fire, a burning beam came crashing down, shattering my leg. I screamed her name, a raw, desperate plea for help.

She watched me from her wheelchair, her expression a cold, distant mask.

"Youre too far," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. "I cant get to you. Youll have to crawl."

But a moment later, her childhood sweetheart, Flynn, lost his footing and plunged into the sea.

In a flash, Seraphina was on her feet. She shot up from her chair, sprinting to the edge of the deck with an agility I hadn't seen in years and diving headfirst into the black, churning water.

Trapped by the flames, my leg was burned beyond recognition. My mind was starved of oxygen, leaving me with the intellect of a six-year-old, forever.

Three years later, after a frantic, world-spanning search, Seraphina found me again. I was on a street corner, begging for scraps.

She fell to her knees before me, her eyes bloodshot and brimming with tears.

"To hide from me, you let yourself fall this far? Asher, was it worth it?"

I tilted my head, studying the strange woman. I reached into my pocket, pulled out a piece of candy, and offered it to her.

"Ma'am, your legs are fine. Why are you kneeling like me?" I asked. "Are you trying to learn how to beg? I only have one piece of candy left. You can have it."

Seraphina didn't take my candy.

"Asher, how long are you going to keep up this act?" she demanded, her voice sharp and loud.

I flinched, instinctively clutching the battered bowl in my lap. There were a few coins insideenough for tonight's dinner. I couldn't let her take it.

My silence only seemed to fuel her anger. She grabbed my arm, her grip like a vise.

"Ow! You're mean! Stop hurting me!"

I burst into tears, the pain sharp and sudden. But even as I cried, my other hand held tight to the single piece of candy. Lily had given it to me this morning as a reward for not wetting the bed last night.

The word "ma'am" seemed to curdle her expression. "Playing the fool!"

She sneered, her eyes fixing on my clenched fist. She must have thought I was hiding something valuable. She pried my fingers open, one by one.

Lying in my palm was a single hard candy, slightly melted and flecked with dust.

Seraphina froze for a second, then a wave of profound disgust washed over her face. "You're doing all this... for this?"

She snatched the candy from my hand and threw it to the ground. Her stiletto heel ground it into the pavement, once, twice.

"No!" I shrieked. That was my candy.

A surge of strength I didn't know I possessed coursed through me. I tore free from her grasp and fell to my knees on the sidewalk. I scrambled, my fingers frantically scraping at the sugary dust trapped in the cracks.

It was so dirty.

But it was so sweet.

I shoved the mixture of dirt, grit, and candy dust into my mouth, tears and snot streaming down my face.

"Sweet... it's sweet..."

A crowd was gathering, some people filming with their phones. My actions seemed to enrage Seraphina even more. She grabbed the collar of my shirt and hauled me to my feet, dangling me like a stray cat.

"Asher! Have you no shame? Are you even a man anymore?!"

I ignored her, my tear-filled eyes fixed on the sugary smear on the ground.

"Give it back... Ma'am, give me back my candy..."

Seraphina's jaw was clenched tight. She dragged me across the sidewalk and shoved me into a sleek, black luxury car parked at the curb. I banged on the window, watching my little bowl, abandoned and alone on the pavement.

"Money! My money!" I cried out. "Lily will go hungry!"

Seraphina locked the doors and ordered the driver to go. She turned to me, her eyes burning with a hatred so intense it felt like a physical blow.

"It would be for the best if that little stray starved to death," she hissed. "Asher, since you love acting so much, I'm taking you back to the one place you tried so desperately to escape. You can perform there until you drop dead."

The car pulled into the driveway of a massive house. It felt a little familiar, but I was too scared to remember why.

The walls were too white, like a hospital. The lights too bright, like flames.

The household staff lined the entrance, pinching their noses at the sight of my filth-caked clothes. Seraphina dumped me onto the plush living room carpet.

"Get him cleaned up," she ordered. "And don't let him ruin my carpets."

A couple of burly housekeepers came over and roughly dragged me toward a bathroom.

A faucet was turned on.

Hissing steam and scalding water erupted from the showerhead.

"Ah!" I screamed, scrambling into the corner. "Fire! It's fire! Don't burn me!"

The hot water on my skin felt just like the licks of flame on the yacht that night. I curled into a ball, hugging my head, my body wracked with tremors, my teeth chattering uncontrollably.

"Sir, please stop pretending," one of them said, grabbing me impatiently. "It's just water."

I thrashed wildly, my nails digging into his arm and drawing blood.

SMACK!

He backhanded me across the face. "You lunatic!"

When Seraphina burst in, I was huddled in the corner of the tub, a shivering, pathetic mess. They had stripped my clothes off, exposing the grotesque tapestry of scar tissue that covered my backa twisted, gnarled mass like the roots of an ancient tree.

Seraphina's pupils contracted violently. She raised a hand as if to touch the scars, but stopped halfway, letting it hang in the air.

"You really committed to the role, didn't you?" she bit out, her voice a strange mix of sarcasm and something else I couldn't place. "All for a bit of theatre."

"Sera?" a smooth male voice called from the doorway.

Flynn walked in, dressed in a pristine, bespoke suit. He looked like a prince from a fairytale.

And I was a rat from the gutter.

Flynn's eyes widened in disgust at the sight of my back, but he quickly masked it with a look of concern. "Asher, what happened to you? Sera is just trying to help. You shouldn't have hurt the staff."

I caught a whiff of his cologne.

I sneezed and pointed at him. "Mister, you smell weird."

Flynn's smile faltered, his face tightening for a moment. Seraphina immediately stepped in front of him, shielding him as she glared at me.

"Asher, apologize to Flynn. Now!"

I didn't understand. He was the one who smelled weird. Why did I have to apologize?

I stubbornly pressed my lips together and said nothing.

Seraphina's patience snapped.

She strode to a closet and pulled out a box. Inside was a pair of black leather dress shoes.

Three years ago, they had been my most prized possession.

Now, the sight of them made my leg throb with a phantom ache. The memory of shattered bone screamed in my mind.

"You always loved these shoes, didn't you?" Seraphina tossed them in front of me. "Put them on. I want to see you wear them."

"No... I won't wear them..." I shook my head frantically, trying to back away. "Leg hurts... fire... don't burn me..."

She took this as defiance. "You won't wear them?"

A cruel smile touched her lips. She picked up the shoes and walked to the fireplace, where a low fire was burning.

"If you won't wear them now, then you'll never wear them again!"

She let them drop.

The flames instantly devoured the expensive leather.

"No!"

Watching the fire, something inside my head snapped.

The fire. The yacht. The broken leg.

The terror finally broke me. A warm, shameful puddle spread across the floor as the stench of urine filled the air.

Flynn gasped, covering his nose in disgust.

Seraphina stared at the puddle on her pristine floor, her face turning to stone.

And in that moment, she finally seemed to understand.

The man who had once stood as proud and graceful as a swan...

Asher... was truly broken.

Seraphina locked me in a room and forbade me from leaving. But my stomach rumbled, a hollow, aching sound. I missed the simple piece of bread Lily would buy for me.

That evening, the mansion was alive with noise and laughter. Seraphina was hosting a family dinner.

A servant brought me downstairs and pushed me into a chair at the dining table. The table was laden with incredible food, but I was too scared to touch anything.

Seraphina sat at the head of the table, with Flynn beside her, looking for all the world like the man of the house.

"Go on, eat," Seraphina said, her gaze cold. "Aren't you hungry?"

I looked at the steak on my plate. It was rare, bleeding onto the porcelain. I was afraid of blood.

I shook my head, my eyes drawn to a small piece of cake in front of Flynn. It looked so sweet.

Flynn noticed me staring. He smiled and pushed the plate toward me.

"Go ahead, Asher. Don't be shy. Help yourself."

I gulped, my mouth watering, and slowly reached for it.

Just as my fingers brushed the edge of the plate, a searing pain shot through my inner thigh. Under the table, Flynn's hand had clamped onto my leg, his fingers digging in with vicious force.

It was a dead man's grip.

"Ah!"

My hand jerked back in pain. The plate tipped over, sending the cake tumbling onto Flynn's white trousers, smearing cream all over the expensive fabric.

"My suit!" Flynn roared in faux outrage. "Asher, if you didn't want it, you could have just said so! Why did you have to ruin my clothes?" His voice cracked with feigned hurt. "Sera gave this to me! It's a limited edition!"

Seraphina slammed her hands on the table and shot to her feet.

"Asher!" she raged, her eyes boring into me. "Is your jealousy really so pathetic? You can't even stand the sight of a new suit?"

Terrified, I scrambled under the table, hugging my head and trembling.

"I didn't... The mean mister pinched me... it hurts..."

Seraphina didn't believe a word.

"Get out from under there!" she commanded. "Get out here and eat that cake off the floor!"

I didn't want to come out, but I was more afraid of being hit. I crawled out and knelt on the carpet, reaching for the cream-smeared mess.

Beside me, Flynn pretended to dab at his trousers. His polished leather shoe discreetly crushed a fallen glass, grinding the shards into the creamy pile on the floor.

I didn't see it. I just knew I had to obey if I wanted to eat.

I scooped up a handful of cake.

Sharp slivers of glass dug into my palm, and blood began to well up, bright red against the white cream.

"Waaah!" I howled in pain, holding up my bleeding hand for Seraphina to see.

"Ma'am, it hurts... It's bleeding..."

The blood dripped onto the white carpet, a series of stark, shocking crimson dots.

Seraphina's breath hitched, her heart lurching in her chest. She instinctively moved to stand.

But then Flynn clutched his chest dramatically. "Sera, my heart... I feel so tight... I think the shock..."

Seraphina froze.

She looked from Flynn's pained expression to my blood-soaked hand.

Finally, she turned away, her heart hardening once more.

"Take him downstairs."

"No bandages. And no food."

"Let him learn his lesson."

The basement was dark. There were no windows, only the faint scratching and squeaking of mice.

I huddled in a corner, licking the wound on my hand. The blood had dried into a sticky, metallic crust.

I was so hungry. I missed my sister, Lily.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from outside.

BANG! The iron door rattled in its frame as someone kicked it. It was followed by the angry shouts of guards and the sounds of a struggle.

"Get out of my way! Let me in!"

That voice... it was Lily!

My head shot up, a flicker of light in my eyes. "Sister!"

I stumbled toward the door, tripping over my own feet. The door burst open.

Lily stood there, brandishing a blood-stained iron pipe. She was covered in scrapes and bruises, her clothes torn, but her eyes blazed with a terrifying fire.

"Asher!"

Her gaze fell on my bloody hand, and her eyes instantly turned red. "Those bastards!"

She threw the pipe aside and rushed to me, pulling me into a fierce hug. "Don't be afraid. I'm here to take you home."

Her embrace was warm. It smelled faintly of stale bread, but it was the safest smell in the world.

But we couldn't leave.

Seraphina blocked the doorway, flanked by more guards. She was dressed in a silk robe, looking down on us like a queen surveying her filthiest subjects.

"So this is your little stray?" Seraphina's eyes locked onto Lily's hands holding me, and her expression filled with murderous intent. "A garbage picker?"

Lily subtly moved me behind her. "Seraphina, are you even human? He has the mind of a six-year-old! You're torturing a child!"

Seraphina let out a cold laugh. "A child? He's a better actor than anyone I know."

She gestured with her hand, and the guards swarmed forward, pinning Lily to the ground. Seraphina sauntered over, the heel of her shoe pressing down hard on Lily's hand.

"Agh!" Lily grunted in pain but bit her lip, refusing to cry out.

"Since this hand dared to touch my man," Seraphina said softly, "then it doesn't need to exist."

She took a golf club from a guard and raised it high above her head.

"No!" I screamed, a primal roar tearing from my throat.