004: I Can Help You

Alexander's POV

I glared at the lady in front of me, unsure of what to make of the words she had just said. Could she not see that I was crippled? Or had she been forced to play this act by my father?

"I have nothing to give you, can't you see that?" I laid out for her just in case she couldn't see that I was in a wheelchair. "If you want a child, I can't give you that. I don't know who you are, and I'm sure you don't know anything about me beyond the magazines. So what is it? What do you want? Money? How much did my father pay you—"

I paused the moment I saw tears trickling down from her face. She was crying, but why? Had my words been too harsh, or was she shedding tears for a completely different reason. Perhaps she was crying at how miserable the man she had been forced to marry was. It wasn't the first time I've seen this, and it definitely wouldn't be the last.

I wheeled closer to her, determined to find out why she was crying.

"What is it? What's the matter with you now?" I demanded instead of inquiring. For all I knew this could be a plot to manipulate me emotionally. It wasn't the first time my father had paid someone to manipulate me emotionally, and I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case with her. It was clear he wanted to get me off his hands even though he did his best to convince him otherwise. He had no use for me anymore, I wasn't making him money anymore, and had become a burden the moment I became handicapped.

"It's...no..nothing.." she stammered as she struggled to sniffle back the tears that wouldn't stop rolling down her cheeks. I wanted to believe that all of this was an act, but staring at her I couldn't help but feel that she was genuinely hurt inside. She was different from all the other girls that I've met before, something about her was different, but I just couldn't put my hands on it.

"...I'm sorry if I'm not good enough for you. I just don't want my family to get hurt.." she continued, further confirming my suspicions. She had been threatened by my father, and it was obvious. He had likely told her that he would hurt her family if she rejected me.

"That bastard!" I cursed out loud. Returning my attention to her, I took a quick gaze at her face, and only came to recognize her mesmerizing beauty.

Even though her face was streaked with tears, her features still radiated. Her skin tone seemed rough, likely from different laborious activities, a proof that she was a hardworking lady.

"What's your name?" I asked after a minute of admiration and silence.

"Heather." She answered swiftly before wiping the remaining tears away from her eyes.

"Heather, is there something else you'd rather do with your life?" I asked and watched as her eyes brightly before slowly dimming down in fear.

"N..no" she replied shakily, her eyes slowly shifting from mine until they faced the floor.

I frowned at her response. It was clear she was lying, and the way her gaze darted to the floor confirmed it. Heather was holding something back, something that this stupid marriage had clearly taken from her.

"Don't lie to me," I said firmly, my voice softening just enough to coax her honesty. "You hesitated, and your eyes gave you away. What is it? What would you rather do?"

"I shouldn't—"

"You definitely should! No matter how you look at it now, I'm your husband and I deserve to know about anyone who's going to be my wife!"

Heather raised her head to meet my gaze once more. She could tell I was serious, and I could tell that she was still scared.

Her lips parted, but she said nothing for a moment. I could see the struggle in her expression, the battle between fear and the flicker of hope. Finally, she whispered, "I wanted to finish college...to become a doctor."

Her words struck me like a blow. She had dreams, ambitions, yet here she was, unable to pursue her dreams because my father couldn't handle the shame of having a crippled son in his hands. For a moment, I couldn't decide who I hated more, my father for forcing this upon her, or myself for being the reason she had to endure it.

"And your family?" I asked cautiously, not wanting to press too hard but needing to know.

Heather's hands trembled as she clasped them together, her knuckles white. "I don't have one, not anymore at least."

I raised a brow in curiosity, uncertain if I had heard correctly. Father had told me that he just signed a contract with her family, but here she was claiming that she had none. Not to mention that minutes ago she had been scared of her family getting hurt.

"—I have two brothers." She chipped in swiftly the moment she realized that I was about to question her about her words. "My parents.... they're dead to me."

It was just as I had suspected. Her parents had likely sold her off to my father. Judging from her dress and everything around her, it was clear she was coming from a poor background, one poor enough to be easily bought over by money. They had been the perfect target, and Logan Forger had wasted no time in exploiting the poor family.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, surprising even myself with the sincerity in my tone. "You didn’t deserve this, Heather..."

Her eyes widened slightly at my words, as though she hadn't expected an ounce of kindness from me. "Thank you..."she whispered. We stared at each other for a brief moment, but there was something different in her gaze, a stare that had me frightened for a brief second.

Slowly, Heather walked towards me, her gaze fixed on my motionless legs. She crouched down and touched my right foot, as though examining it.

"You don't feel anything?" She asked slowly, her eyes never leaving mine.

I had been insecure of myself for a year now, and would normally shut down any conversation regarding my situation from outsiders. However, something felt off with her, a sensation that I couldn't explain.

"No." I replied before pulling my gaze away from her. Steadily, I began to wheel away, not wanting to prolong the conversation.

"I can help. I know someone, a doctor that can help you walk again—”