Part 3Signed My Heart Away on Our Anniversary

The following day, an unexpected visitor showed up at the dance studio. He was a man in his 40s, dressed in a suit and carrying a fruit basket.

"I'm Ethan Carter. I was one of the sponsors behind the mall opening yesterday." He handed Rebecca a business card. "Ms. Leavitt, you were very impressive yesterday. I wanted to talk to you about a long-term opportunity."

Rebecca was helping me take my medication. Her hand jerked, spilling water all over my clothes.

"Mr. Carter, how did you find me here?" she asked.

"I asked one of your coworkers."

Ethan smiled as his gaze swept over the worn-down studio, moved to my wheelchair, and finally settled on Rebecca.

"This place has seen better days, but someone with your talent shouldn't be stuck somewhere like this."

He told us he owned three performing arts schools in the area and was looking for a principal instructor.

"The base salary is 20,000 dollars a month. Commission would be on top of that."

The pill bottle slipped from Rebecca's hand as pills scattered across the floor.

When I bent down to pick it up, I slipped from my wheelchair and fell to the floor with a loud thud. Rebecca rushed to steady me, and Ethan came over to help as well.

"And who's this?" he asked.

"He's my husband," Rebecca replied quietly.

Ethan paused before his smile quickly returned, even warmer than before. "Mr. Zander, right? It's nice to finally meet you."

He crouched to help collect the pills, moving as casually as though nothing were unusual. Then, his shoe came down on two of them. He crushed them beneath his sole and ground them into the floor.

Rebecca saw it, and so did I.

For several seconds, the room went completely still.

"Sorry about that," Ethan said as he reached for his wallet. "Let me pay for—"

"Don't worry about it," Rebecca interrupted as she helped me back into my wheelchair. "Mr. Carter, I'll think about the offer."

"Of course." Ethan stood and smoothed his suit. "Just don't take too long, Ms. Leavitt. Opportunities like this don't stay open forever. I have plenty of people interested in the job."

Then, he left.

A moment later, the sound of him humming an old love song drifted through the hallway.

Rebecca closed the door, leaned against it, and slowly slid to the floor.

"20,000 dollars…" she murmured. "That's 240,000 dollars a year. Four years, and we'd have the million…"

I wheeled myself closer and reached for her shoulder.

All of a sudden, Rebecca looked up, her eyes bloodshot. "William, do you hate me?"

I froze.

"Last night…" She buried her face in her hands. "Mr. Carter put his hand on my waist, and I didn't move away. At dinner, he kept pushing drinks on me, and I drank them. He offered to drive me home, and when his hand moved to my thigh, I didn't stop him."

Her shoulders trembled, and her voice came muffled through her fingers. "Because while we were in the car, he told me he knows a couple of cardiac specialists abroad. He said if money can solve a problem, then it isn't really a problem."

My heart clenched, and the familiar crushing pain tore through my chest.

I gasped for air as my shaking hand reached for my medication.

Rebecca rushed over immediately. With practiced ease, she gave me the medicine, rubbed my back, and adjusted the oxygen concentrator.

By the time the pain finally subsided, cold sweat had soaked through my clothes. She sank to her knees in front of me and rested her face against my lap.

"I'm sorry…" Rebecca sobbed like a child. "William, I'm so sorry. I just want you to stay alive…"

I stroked her hair and tried to answer, but my throat tightened until I couldn't speak.

…

That night, Ethan called again.

Rebecca took the call on the balcony and stayed out there for a long time. When she came back inside, her eyes were bright with hope.

"Mr. Carter said he has a friend who's a renowned cardiac surgeon overseas. He's coming to Corvia next month for a medical conference. He can arrange a consultation for us, and he'll pay for it."

I looked at the light in Rebecca's eyes and felt a chill run down my spine.

"What's the catch?" I asked.

Her smile faltered. "Just… going with him to a few business dinners now and then. He does a lot of entertaining for work, and sometimes he needs a woman there with him for appearances."

"Is that all?"

"That's all," she repeated, as though she were trying to convince herself.