Chapter 1

On the eve of our wedding, my fiancée sent me a luxury watch.

I looked at my prosthetic arm and decided to call it quits right then and there.

Her star athlete called me soon after, sounding fake-apologetic.

"Mr. Miller, I'm so sorry. I messed up the measurements for the watch. Please don't blame Lydia."

I could hear Lydia's impatient voice in the background.

"Ignore him. I'm the one who bought it. He wouldn't dare refuse it."

I let out a cold laugh. I left the divorce papers on the table and walked out without looking back.

01.

Lydia walked in just as I was packing my bags.

She was dressed in an expensive designer suit. Her brows furrowed as she looked at the mess in our living room.

"The wedding is tomorrow. Can't you keep this place decent?"

"What will the guests think if they see this? Are you trying to embarrass me?"

I stayed silent. Lydia's gaze flickered to my missing right arm, and she couldn't hide the disgust in her eyes.

"Whatever. I'll just call a maid to handle this."

We had been together for seven years. This wasn't the first time she'd seen my stump.

But it was the first time she didn't even bother to hide her revulsion.

I finally had to admit it. Lydia didn't love me anymore.

I zipped up my suitcase just as she finished her phone call.

Seeing the luggage, her impatience flared into genuine anger.

"Heath, are you really throwing a tantrum over a watch the night before our wedding?"

"I'm not throwing a tantrum. I'm being serious."

"Lydia, let's get a divorce."

I said it calmly, but she didn't take me seriously. She just rolled her eyes.

"So the watch Caleb sent wasn't your size. Big deal. Get over it, Heath."

"Caleb and I are exhausted. We're working around the clock for the qualifiers. Unlike you, who just sits at home in the AC all day."

"Stop making trouble."

Making trouble?

We had been together for seven years, and we were finally supposed to say our vows. Yet, she hadn't put an ounce of effort into this wedding.

Even the wedding gift she sent was inches too small for my arm.

I was wrong. It wasn't that she didn't love me. She just didn't care if I existed.

I looked her in the eye and asked, "Caleb didn't know my size, but you didn't either?"

"On our first anniversary, we bought each other watches. Don't you remember?"

Lydia's eyes darted away. She didn't answer.

I knew that look. It was guilt, buried under layers of arrogance.

"Look, you can't joke about the wedding," she snapped.

"You should be grateful I'm even willing to marry you in your condition."

I looked at this woman I had loved for nearly a decade and felt nothing but a bitter irony.

"Grateful? Keep your charity. I'm done."

I grabbed my suitcase and headed for the door. Behind me, I heard the sound of glass shattering.

She was livid.

"Heath Miller! If you walk out that door, don't you dare come back!"

"The wedding is happening with or without you! I want to see where a cripple like you thinks he can go!"