No Longer His Caregiver

Wed been married just a month when Garrett was diagnosed with ALS. The doctor explained his muscles would slowly waste away until his breathing failed.

The moment we heard, I made him quit work. I took four jobs to pay for his treatments, working until my feet swelled so badly I couldnt fit them into shoes. But if it kept him in therapy, I thought it was worth it.

Until one rainy night. A drunk man cornered me at an alleys mouth, dragging me into the dark as he hurled crude slurs. Terrified, I screamed to Garrett, standing frozen at the curb, Call the police!

He didnt move. Not a muscle.

When the attacker fled after some teens passed by, I collapsed at Garretts knees, sobbing. Why didnt you call for help? Why did you just watch him hurt me?

He only stared at the ground, whispering a broken apology. My heart sank into ice.

A week later, on the way to his checkup, a woman in a white dress slipped on the wet pavement. Without hesitation, Garrett shoved me aside and lunged forward, catching her with startling strength.

Vanessa, are you alright? he cried.

That nameone Id seen scrawled in the margins of hundreds of hidden love lettershit me like a blow. In that moment, I knew: I was his ALS. I was the disease paralyzing his life.

The damp wind howled through the alley, carrying the bitter scent of rain and decay.

My clothes were torn, and my hair clung to my bleeding forehead. The drunkard had fled, startled by the rowdy voices of teenagers on the main street.

Yet my husband, the man I had sacrificed my health to protect, had not moved an inch. He had not yelled, he had not reached for his phone, and he had not made a single attempt to save me. He had simply watched.

I dragged my bruised body toward him, holding onto the cold brick wall for support.

"Garrett."

My voice was completely hoarse, barely a whisper.

"Why didn't you call the police?"

He kept his head lowered, his fingers twitching slightly. It was one of the few movements he claimed he could still manage.

"You could have at least screamed for help! Anything!"

My quiet questions quickly spiraled into hysterical screams, echoing sharply in the quiet night.

"You watched him drag me into the dark! You just stood there! Did you want me to die in there?"

My tears finally broke through, washing over the dirt and blood on my face.

He finally looked up, his lips parting with visible effort as he forced out three quiet words.

"I... am... sorry."

The apology was clear, devoid of the slurs and stutters he usually performed.

The last of my strength left me, and I collapsed onto the damp pavement at his feet.

An apology?

To pay his twenty-thousand-dollar monthly medical bills, I spent my nights scrubbing grease off restaurant dishes, kneeling on hard office floors to wax tiles, and working double shifts as a caregiver. I slept barely three hours a day, and my feet were permanently bruised and swollen. I had only brought him out tonight because I thought he was depressed from being cooped up in our small rental.

And in return, I received a hollow apology.

The void in my chest grew wider, letting the freezing wind hollow me out. I could not bear to look at him. I forced myself up and began limping back toward our apartment. He followed slowly, his steady, deliberate steps a stark contrast to the frail, trembling gait I had spent months trying to preserve.

Once inside, I locked myself in the bathroom. The hot water sprayed over my skin, but it could not wash away the deep, bone-chilling disgust that had settled inside me. The reflection in the mirror was unrecognizable: haggard, bruised, and completely hollowed out.

Garrett knocked on the door, his taps light and patient.

"Audrey... open the door..."

I ignored him.

After a few minutes, the knocking stopped.

When I finally stepped out, the apartment was dead silent. Garrett was sitting in his wheelchair, his back to me, his shoulders trembling slightly.

Was he weeping?

I walked closer, only to see the bright glow of his smartphone screen. He was looking at a chat interface, the contact name saved as Vanessa.

His latest message had been sent only a minute ago.

"I miss you so much."

His thumbs were moving across the screen with incredible, fluid speed, typing a sentence that shattered my world.

"She is getting so annoying. I do not think I can keep up this act much longer."

The blue light of the screen illuminated his face, revealing a look of pure, irritated disdain rather than guilt.

My blood ran cold.

Sensing my presence, he spun around, frantically trying to slip the phone under his thigh. But it was too late. Our eyes met, and the fragile, pathetic mask he had worn for months completely disintegrated.

"Audrey, let me explain..."

His voice caught in his throat as his eyes fell on my own phone, which had just lit up with a notification.

It was a final notice from the medical center.

"Dear Mrs. Audrey, the payment for Mr. Garretts specialized neural therapy is now overdue. Please settle the outstanding balance of two hundred thousand dollars within three days, or all medical services will be permanently suspended."

Two hundred thousand dollars. What a joke.

I closed my eyes, the memory of our wedding day flashing before me. Garrett had looked so handsome, standing before me as he whispered his vows.

"Audrey, I am going to make you the happiest woman in the world."

Shortly after, he told me his startup had collapsed, leaving him in massive debt. He asked if I would still marry a ruined man, and I had held him tight, telling him I loved him, not his bank account.

Then, only a month later, he was diagnosed with motor neuron disease.

Without hesitation, I sold our cozy little apartment, rented a cheap place in the slums, and began working myself to the bone. I truly believed that as long as we did not lose hope, we could beat the illness.

But reality had just delivered a devastating blow.

"Explain what?" I asked, my voice terrifyingly calm. "Explain that you can move perfectly fine? Or explain that you have been treating me like an idiot?"

Garrett stood up from his wheelchair. He stood perfectly straight, his posture athletic and strong, with none of the trembling weakness he had feigned for a year.

"I did not mean for it to go this far, Audrey," he said, taking a step toward me. "It was just a game at first..."

"A game?" I backed away, avoiding his touch. "My bones aching from exhaustion is a game? You watching me get dragged into an alley is a game? Your games are incredibly expensive, Garrett."

His expression flickered with a brief hint of guilt, but it was quickly replaced by annoyance.

"It was Vanessa! She made a bet with me!" he blurted out, desperately trying to shift the blame. "She said if I married you, I had to prove that my heart still belonged to her! She said I couldn't have any normal contact with the world until she returned! I only did it for her!"

"For her?" I repeated, the absurdity of the words ringing in my ears. "So I was just your servant? Your amusement?"

"I did not want you to suffer! I felt terrible watching you work!" he argued loudly, as if he were the victim. "I wanted to tell you the truth so many times! But Vanessa said this was the ultimate test of our love! She promised she would come back to me soon!"

"And the two hundred thousand dollars for your medical bills?" I shoved my phone screen in his face, displaying the collection notice. "If you are bankrupt, where did that money go?"

His face turned instantly pale.

"I... I..." He stammered, unable to find a lie.

I did not need his answers anymore.

I marched into the bedroom, reached under the bed frame, and pulled open a hidden compartment. Inside was a high-end laptop. I powered it on, and a private stock trading platform appeared on the screen.

The balance of his portfolio was filled with more zeros than I cared to count.

And his recent transaction history showed a massive wire transfer from yesterday afternoon.

The memo read: For Vanessas Art Gallery.

I carried the laptop out and slammed it onto the coffee table in front of him.

"Is this part of the test too? Throwing millions at your mistress while your wife is driven mad by a two-hundred-thousand-dollar debt?"

"You sat in that wheelchair, watching me run myself ragged to pay for your fake treatments, listening to me break down over collections. Did it make you feel powerful, Garrett?"

"Do you even have a soul?"

Unable to contain my fury, I grabbed a glass from the table and hurled it at his head. He ducked with effortless coordination, his quick reflexes a painful reminder of his lies.

"Audrey! That is enough!" He snapped, lunging forward and grabbing my wrist. "Money, money, money! That is all you care about! I admit I lied to you, but haven't I provided for you? I let you live under my roof, I kept you clothed, what more do you want?"

"Provided for me?" I laughed, the sound sharp and bitter. "I lived in this run-down apartment because you claimed we had to sell everything to pay your debts! I wore secondhand clothes, and I ate the leftovers from the restaurant kitchen! Is this your idea of providing for me?"

"Vanessa is different! She has never known hardship! I owed her a life of luxury!" he bellowed.

"You owed her, so I had to pay the price?" My heart felt completely cold. "We are divorcing, Garrett."

"Divorce?" He stared at me, then let out a mock chuckle. "Audrey, do not flatter yourself. Who do you think you are? Do you think you can survive in this city without me? A woman with no pedigree and no qualifications, you will never find another man of my stature."

"Is that so?"

I wrenched my hand from his grip, walked over to the front door, and pulled it wide open.

Standing in the hallway was a tall man in a tailored three-piece suit. It was Harrison, my new representative and the CEO of a major corporate firm. Earlier today, I had been on my knees scrubbing the lobby floors of his corporate headquarters.

He offered me a polite nod before turning his cold, piercing gaze toward Garrett.

"Mr. Garrett, a pleasure. I am Miss Audreys legal representative and her newly appointed trustee."

Harrison handed me a leather folder.

"Miss Audrey, the transfer of your fathers estate shares has been executed. As of today, you are officially the majority shareholder of Omni Group. This is the financial investigation report on Mr. Garretts assets you requested."

I took the document and threw it directly into Garretts face. The sheets of paper scattered across the floor, each page a detailed record of his fraud and betrayal.

Garretts jaw slackened, his eyes darting between the papers and my face in utter disbelief.

"Omni Group? You...?" He whispered, looking as if his world had just tilted on its axis.

I looked at him, speaking with absolute clarity.

"I forgot to mention, my father is the founder of Omni Group. He insisted that if my future husband loved me for who I was, the family shares would be my dowry. But if he proved to be a parasite, the experience would simply be the cost of a valuable lesson."

"Congratulations, Garrett. You taught me a lesson I will never forget."

The color drained from Garretts face, and he stumbled backward until his back hit the wall.