Before the other side could respond, pain
swept through my entire body once again.
In a daze, I recalled the past.
My father was a race car driver, but he was
disqualified from racing due to alcoholism.
After that, he became violent and
irritable.
He would resort to domestic violence
against my mother and me at the slightest provocation.
Unable to endure it any longer, my mother
divorced him and left me behind.
It wasn't until I turned eighteen, when he
was involved in a car accident, that my world began to brighten up.
However, I fell in love with racing, the
very thing that had ruined my father's life.
It wasn't until I met John in college that
things changed.
He funded a racing team, claiming he wanted
to help me become a world champion.
For three years, we worked together
tirelessly.
Everyone around us assumed we were a
couple.
To achieve the championship, I had been
thrown off a cliff during a race.
Three screws were inserted into my knee,
which ached severely on rainy days.
My body became so weakened that it was
difficult for me to conceive.
But for both John 's sake and my own
dreams, I was willing to endure it.
When I finally became pregnant with his
child, I wanted to withdraw from the final race.
He said he wanted to see me win my first
grand slam.
I didn't expect that he just wanted to use
me to bring glory to his beloved Sharon.
He even crippled my leg to prevent me from
racing again.
Anger and pain stabbed at me like a knife.
I was so filled with hatred!
I hated myself for being attracted to John
's warmth and falling into his trap.
I despised my own naivety for being so
easily used.
Suddenly, John 's voice came from my dream.
I jolted awake.
John
was frowning at me, holding my hand gently.
“Vivian, I'm sorry. I thought your body would be fine.”
“The doctor needs to examine you again to see if your leg can still
race.”
My eyes welled up with tears, and I shook
my head.
“No need.”
“I can't feel anything in my leg.”
“I'm already useless.”
John
patted my hand, trying to comfort me.
“Come on, let the doctor give
Seeing his insistent look, I had no choice
but to nod.
He nodded at the doctor.
The doctor, upon receiving the signal,
immediately selected the tools.
His glance towards me was filled with
sympathy and reluctance.
“Do we really have to verify it?” I couldn't help but
ask again, looking up.
John
frowned, his voice tinged with sternness, “Don't be willful!
It's for your own good.”
Just as the doctor was about to proceed,
Sharon pushed the door open.
“John, I've studied joint movement abroad. Let me give Vivian a try.”
“After all, Vivian is in this condition because of me.”
John
immediately released my hand and turned towards Sharon.
“Since Sharon wants to give it a try——” John paused,
glanced at me, and signaled the doctor to hand her the tools.
Sharon, holding a small hammer, slowly
approached me, her eyes filled with a hint of malice and triumph.
“Vivian, I'll be gentle~”
Her movements seemed gentle, but only I
knew how hard she was hitting.
Dull pain throbbed through my lower body
with each strike. I clenched my teeth, determined not to make a sound.
Cold sweat dampened my hairline.
“Vivian, do you feel anything?”Sharon, with her
back to John , looked at me provocatively.
“No,” I replied, forcing myself to stay calm despite the pain.
“Vivian, let me try with a syringe.”
The thick needle was inserted into my thigh
by Sharon.
I twisted the bedsheet tightly, holding
back my scream.
I knew that if I made a sound, the pain
would become unbearable.
“Enough, Sharon. Vivian's leg is probably ruined. Let the doctor
handle it,” John interjected, his lips
pressed tightly together.
He looked at me with a hint of reluctance.
“Vivian, even if your leg is ruined, I'll find you a logistics job.
You won't be left out in the cold.”
His words were the last straw.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes,
trying to ease the dense, needle-like pain.
Sharon's sweet yet cruel voice followed:
“Vivian, take good care of yourself. We'll need you as a bridesmaid
when John and I get married!”
After they left, I looked at my lower body
and couldn't help but feel a sense of self-mockery.
Would I be a bridesmaid on crutches, or in
a wheelchair?
Sharon knew exactly how to humiliate me,
but I no longer cared.
I checked the messages on my phone; there
were still five days left.