Isabella’s declaration made the man’s eyes narrow.

A sharp edge of surprise laced his voice.

“Are you absolutely sure about this, Miss?”

He gestured vaguely toward his legs.

“I’m in a wheelchair. Marrying me is a decision you’ll come to regret.”

Evelyn didn’t flinch.

Her gaze remained steady.

“Would you ever be unfaithful?” she asked instead.

“Would you abandon your wife for another woman?”

“Never,” he answered instantly, his tone resolute.

“Then I won’t regret it either,” Evelyn stated, her resolve clear.

“If you’ll have me, I will marry you.”

Seeing the unwavering sincerity in her eyes, he found no reason to refuse.

He gave a slow, deliberate nod.

“Very well. We’ll be married.”

Just like that, the wedding that had nearly collapsed proceeded.

The priest served as their witness.

They exchanged their vows, their voices echoing firmly in the quiet church.

Stepping outside, Evelyn felt a wave of surreal detachment.

She had just legally bound herself to a man she’d met only hours before.

As she guided his wheelchair down the stone steps, a sudden realization struck her.

“I don’t even know your name,” she admitted.

“Alexander Blackwood,” he replied, his voice calm.

Evelyn’s eyes widened in shock.

“Alexander Blackwood? The heir to the Blackwood family?”

A mocking smile touched Alexander’s lips as he saw her reaction.

“What’s wrong? Regretting your choice already, now that you know you’ve married the family’s so-called disgrace?”

The story of Alexander Blackwood was city gossip.

His mother died giving birth to him.

His father remarried.

A tragic car accident then left Alexander paralyzed, confining him to a wheelchair.

After his stepmother bore a healthy son, Alexander became an outcast in his own home.

Only the steadfast protection of his grandmother, Eleanor Blackwood, had prevented him from being cast out entirely.

In Alexander’s mind, no sane woman would willingly tie herself to him unless motivated by money or pity.

He wasn't just disabled; he was the neglected heir, a burden.

He fully expected to see disappointment cloud Evelyn’s face.

He braced for the inevitable regret.

Instead, he saw something else entirely.

She looked at him not with pity, but with a deep, unexpected understanding.

It was as if she saw a kindred spirit—another soul discarded by those who should have cared.

She reached out and took his hand, her grip surprisingly firm.

“I told you. My decision is made. I won’t go back on it.”

Her voice softened.

“Now that we’re married, I will make sure you have a real home. A proper one.”

Alexander’s voice was thick with skepticism.

“Is that a promise? We shall see.”

He didn’t believe her.

He was curious how long this act of devotion would last once she realized he had nothing material to offer.

A sleek black car pulled up, interrupting his thoughts.

“Let’s go,” Alexander said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Evelyn hesitated.

“Go where?”

“Home,” he stated simply. “We are married. We live together now.”

Home.

The word sent a painful jolt through Evelyn’s heart.

It vividly brought back the apartment she had shared with Julian—the home she had painstakingly built for their future.

But that life was over.

She had chosen a new path.

She took a steadying breath.

“I have some… unfinished business to attend to first,” she said.

“Could you give me your address? I’ll gather my things and join you later.”

Alexander’s eyebrow arched.

“You don’t want me to take you?”

“It’s fine,” she insisted, her voice gentle but firm. “I can manage. I don’t wish to inconvenience you.”

He didn’t press further.

After exchanging contact information, he was assisted into the car and driven away.

Thirty minutes later, Evelyn stood before the familiar door of the apartment she had shared with Julian.

The key turned with a familiar click.

The door swung open onto a space saturated with memories.

She walked inside.

Every detail—the curtains, the throw pillows, the potted plant on the windowsill—spoke of her efforts to create a home.

Now, it all felt like a gilded cage.

Without hesitation, she began to dismantle it.

She tore down the decorations she had lovingly hung.

She uprooted the plants.

She threw it all into large black trash bags.

She was erasing the past, piece by painful piece.

Once the space was stripped bare of their shared life, she began packing her personal belongings.

She was so absorbed in her task that she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching.

Julian, unable to stay away, stood frozen in the doorway, his face a mask of shock and anger.

“Evelyn,” he demanded, his voice trembling. “What in God’s name are you doing?”