You Called Me A Cripple: He Called Me His Wife

For four years of marriage, my husband, Julian Crawford, had avoided me, repulsed by my crippled legs, never once willing to touch me.

And yet, in cruel contrast, my body betrayed me, my desires spiraling out of control.

During a gynecological exam, under the hands of a stranger—a male doctor—I lost control, soft, broken sounds slipping from my lips.

Outside the consultation room, my husband stood beside the woman he had never forgotten, Vanessa Whitmore, holding her in plain sight as he called me a "useless burden."

The doctor adjusted my skirt for me, his fingertips brushing slowly along the side of my thigh.

Then, in a low voice, he asked, "Do you want me to help you?"