The Crippled Wife They Tried to Erase - Chapter 1: Chapter 1
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"Did you see the look on Mr. Greene's face when I brought up the donation?" Celeste's voice was bright, almost musical, slicing through the quiet of the car. Xavier's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, catching her reflection.
He chuckled. "Poor guy didn't stand a chance. You've got that magic touch, Celeste."
I swallowed the bitter taste rising in my throat, my fingers absently tracing the curve of my seven-month belly. "Maybe I should handle the next charity event," I offered, forcing lightness into my voice.
Xavier barely glanced my way. "You've got enough on your plate with the pregnancy, Lyra. Celeste has a way with people—she doesn't even have to try."
The words landed like a slap. Celeste giggled, preening under the praise, while I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood—
Then the world exploded.
A deafening crash. The car lurched violently, tires screeching as we skidded. My seatbelt gave way, and I was thrown forward—no airbag, no protection—just the sickening crack of my head against the dashboard. Celeste's scream was the last thing I heard before everything went black.
When I woke, pain was the first thing I knew—sharp, relentless, radiating through every inch of me. The metallic tang of blood and gasoline burned my nose, my vision swimming in and out of focus.
"Celeste! Are you hurt?" Xavier's voice was frantic, raw with panic.
I tried to move, to call out, but my body refused to obey.
"I—I'm okay," Celeste stammered. "Just a scratch."
"Thank the Moon Goddess," Xavier breathed. "Stay still, let me check you."
I wanted to scream. To make him see me. All that came out was a broken gasp.
"X-Xavier!"
His head snapped toward me—pale, tense, but not relieved. Not the way a husband should look when his pregnant wife wakes up in a wreck. "Lyra. You're awake."
No warmth. No urgency. Just exhaustion, like I was another burden to manage.
He turned back to Celeste, gently cradling her arm. "Let's get you out first," he murmured.
Tears blurred my vision. "Xavier, I—" A searing pain ripped through my abdomen, cutting me off with a sharp cry.
"Don't move," he ordered, barely glancing at me.
Celeste hesitated, her eyes darting between us. "Xavier, she—"
"She'll be fine," he snapped. "You could be in shock."
The betrayal cut deeper than any injury. My husband—my mate—was choosing her. Over me. Over our child.
Am I nothing to you?
The paramedics arrived, prying me from the wreckage. I clutched my stomach, shaking, praying silently for my baby.
Hours later, the doctor's words shattered what was left of me.
"Mrs. Nightshade… I'm so sorry." Her voice was gentle, but it didn't soften the blow. "We did everything we could, but… you lost the baby."
The room spun. "No," I whispered. "No, no, no—"
She hesitated, then delivered the second blow. "Your injuries… they were severe. There's damage to your spine, your reproductive system… I'm afraid you won't be able to carry children again. And… you may never walk."
The words echoed, hollow. No baby. No future. No legs. I wanted to scream, to rage—but the tears wouldn't come.
When Xavier finally appeared, his face was shadowed—with guilt? Regret? Or just disappointment?
"How's Celeste?" I asked, my voice brittle.
"She's fine," he said quickly. "Just a scratch."
Of course she is.
He cleared his throat. "How are you feeling?"
How was I feeling? Like my soul had been ripped out. But I forced a smile. "I'm alive."
"That's what matters." His jaw clenched, eyes avoiding mine. "The doctor told me. I'm sorry, Lyra."
The apology was empty. I knew then—he wasn't sorry for me.
The days that followed were worse than the crash. Xavier visited out of obligation, his gaze never lingering too long. But when Celeste walked in? His whole demeanor shifted.
Once, I overheard them outside my door.
"Don't blame yourself, Xavier," Celeste murmured.
"It is my fault," he said, voice thick. "If I'd reacted faster. If only—"
He didn't say, If only I'd saved Lyra. No. His regret was for her.
Lying there, I realized I'd lost more than my baby, my health—I'd lost my husband.
And maybe… I'd never really had him at all.
He chuckled. "Poor guy didn't stand a chance. You've got that magic touch, Celeste."
I swallowed the bitter taste rising in my throat, my fingers absently tracing the curve of my seven-month belly. "Maybe I should handle the next charity event," I offered, forcing lightness into my voice.
Xavier barely glanced my way. "You've got enough on your plate with the pregnancy, Lyra. Celeste has a way with people—she doesn't even have to try."
The words landed like a slap. Celeste giggled, preening under the praise, while I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood—
Then the world exploded.
A deafening crash. The car lurched violently, tires screeching as we skidded. My seatbelt gave way, and I was thrown forward—no airbag, no protection—just the sickening crack of my head against the dashboard. Celeste's scream was the last thing I heard before everything went black.
When I woke, pain was the first thing I knew—sharp, relentless, radiating through every inch of me. The metallic tang of blood and gasoline burned my nose, my vision swimming in and out of focus.
"Celeste! Are you hurt?" Xavier's voice was frantic, raw with panic.
I tried to move, to call out, but my body refused to obey.
"I—I'm okay," Celeste stammered. "Just a scratch."
"Thank the Moon Goddess," Xavier breathed. "Stay still, let me check you."
I wanted to scream. To make him see me. All that came out was a broken gasp.
"X-Xavier!"
His head snapped toward me—pale, tense, but not relieved. Not the way a husband should look when his pregnant wife wakes up in a wreck. "Lyra. You're awake."
No warmth. No urgency. Just exhaustion, like I was another burden to manage.
He turned back to Celeste, gently cradling her arm. "Let's get you out first," he murmured.
Tears blurred my vision. "Xavier, I—" A searing pain ripped through my abdomen, cutting me off with a sharp cry.
"Don't move," he ordered, barely glancing at me.
Celeste hesitated, her eyes darting between us. "Xavier, she—"
"She'll be fine," he snapped. "You could be in shock."
The betrayal cut deeper than any injury. My husband—my mate—was choosing her. Over me. Over our child.
Am I nothing to you?
The paramedics arrived, prying me from the wreckage. I clutched my stomach, shaking, praying silently for my baby.
Hours later, the doctor's words shattered what was left of me.
"Mrs. Nightshade… I'm so sorry." Her voice was gentle, but it didn't soften the blow. "We did everything we could, but… you lost the baby."
The room spun. "No," I whispered. "No, no, no—"
She hesitated, then delivered the second blow. "Your injuries… they were severe. There's damage to your spine, your reproductive system… I'm afraid you won't be able to carry children again. And… you may never walk."
The words echoed, hollow. No baby. No future. No legs. I wanted to scream, to rage—but the tears wouldn't come.
When Xavier finally appeared, his face was shadowed—with guilt? Regret? Or just disappointment?
"How's Celeste?" I asked, my voice brittle.
"She's fine," he said quickly. "Just a scratch."
Of course she is.
He cleared his throat. "How are you feeling?"
How was I feeling? Like my soul had been ripped out. But I forced a smile. "I'm alive."
"That's what matters." His jaw clenched, eyes avoiding mine. "The doctor told me. I'm sorry, Lyra."
The apology was empty. I knew then—he wasn't sorry for me.
The days that followed were worse than the crash. Xavier visited out of obligation, his gaze never lingering too long. But when Celeste walked in? His whole demeanor shifted.
Once, I overheard them outside my door.
"Don't blame yourself, Xavier," Celeste murmured.
"It is my fault," he said, voice thick. "If I'd reacted faster. If only—"
He didn't say, If only I'd saved Lyra. No. His regret was for her.
Lying there, I realized I'd lost more than my baby, my health—I'd lost my husband.
And maybe… I'd never really had him at all.
End of The Crippled Wife They Tried to Erase Chapter 1. Continue reading Chapter 2 or return to The Crippled Wife They Tried to Erase book page.