2#02

2

I had never experienced true marital closeness with Jill. Many evenings, I found myself quelling my desires in frigid water, just as I did today. This, too, was a form of contentment for me.

However, this evening, the lavatory emitted an odd, foul odor, exuding a pungent, acrid scent that induced a headache. After searching extensively, I finally traced the source to the waste bin.

The culprit turned out to be a pair of crimson women's undergarments!

My previously calmed emotions flared up with fury once more! Margaret's actions had crossed a line!

The following morning, I disposed of the underwear. After cleaning Jill's body and changing her diaper as usual, I prepared to depart for work.

Today, Jill behaved unusually. She seemed reluctant to let me leave.

"Honey, when will you return tonight?"

Typically, she avoided interfering with my work, so this behavior was rare. It appeared she was still shaken from yesterday's events, so I quickly stroked her head affectionately.

I assured her, "I'll come home right after my shift ends to prepare your favorite coconut chicken dish."

Despite her reluctance, I had to go downstairs. Her special medication supply was running low, and I needed to find additional income from my side jobs to cover the expense.

As I drove out of our neighborhood, my phone rang. Margaret's name appeared on the screen.

Before I could speak, she berated me, "Doctor Scott, did you report that I was misbehaving at your house? How can I work in this field if you make such false accusations?"

"You should focus on caring for your wife instead! Don't end up being fooled after helping raise someone else's child!"

I hadn't even made a move, yet she had the nerve to confront me! But what did her statement imply?

After her tirade, she immediately hung up and ignored all my subsequent messages.

An uneasy feeling gnawed at me. I requested leave and headed home.

Upon entering the garage, I noticed my parking spot was occupied. After several attempts to call them, a tall, muscular man with a leg cast hobbled towards me, out of breath and with small love marks on his neck.

I recognized this man; he often took my parking space!

I had complained several times, but he merely glared at me in response and drove off without apologizing.

My mood was terrible after encountering two problems in one morning. Only when I returned home and saw Jill's sleeping face did I gradually calm down.

As I gently stroked her hair, I inadvertently noticed a faint lipstick smudge at the corner of her mouth.

I didn't recall applying makeup to her that morning. My unease grew as my gaze shifted to her legs.

Over the years, I had grown accustomed to her legs' atrophy despite rigorous therapy and medication. However, surprisingly, I realized that her legs looked firm, just as they were before the accident.

She suddenly awoke and looked at me with uncertainty in her eyes.

"Darling, why did you come back so suddenly?" she asked. "Is something wrong with my legs?"

I quickly shook my head. "Oh, nothing. I was just worried because I forgot your morning message. I wanted to check on you."

She smiled and pinched my nose, but then suddenly lowered her head, tears falling freely.

"I'm so sorry for being such a burden, Honey. My paralysis causes you to worry so much about me... and it exhausts you."

Usually, her vulnerability would make my heart ache, and I would immediately embrace her and express my love.

However, Margaret's words, the strange man in a cast, and all that had transpired today left me feeling very uneasy.

Could it be possible? Had Jill's paralysis healed long ago?

An overwhelming urge to uncover the truth came over me. I grabbed a towel I used to clean her body, deliberately soaked it in boiling water, and dabbed her legs with it while pretending to perform routine care.

The hot towel immediately turned her legs bright red. I glanced at her, but her expression remained unchanged, and she smiled at me.

I immediately came to my senses and deeply regretted my impulsive action. What was I thinking? Jill loved me so much; by suspecting her of hurting me, I truly deserved to suffer!

After frantically searching for medicine, I trembled as I helped her wipe off the water.

Looking at the swollen blisters, an overwhelming sense of guilt consumed me. I lowered my head, unable to hold back my tears. "I'm sorry, Jill... this is all my fault..."

Jill paused for a moment. She struggled to lift her upper body with her hand and hugged my head to her chest. "It's okay, Honey. It's not like I can feel my legs anyway. It doesn't matter."

She pulled a box of milk from the drawer, inserted a straw, and handed it to me.

"Darling, you've been so tired lately," she said. "Drinking milk will help you relax. Afterward, get some rest for a while."

Her kindness warmed my heart. I gulped down the milk but immediately noticed the bitter aftertaste.

My blood ran cold. As a doctor, I recognized the taste of a sleeping pill.

Jill continued to look me directly in the eye.

I didn't know how she had added it, but I realized that she needed me to fall asleep immediately. So, to uncover her plan, I decided to play along.

After excusing myself to use the bathroom, I purged all the milk from my system and then collapsed on the bed, feigning drowsiness.

Jill cautiously approached and repeatedly waved her hand in front of my face.

Once she believed I was deeply "asleep," she snorted coldly. "Pathetic lapdog."

I squinted, watching with my own eyes as my supposedly paralyzed wife stood up effortlessly.