Lisa adjusted the strap of her dress, smoothing out the soft satin as she admired her reflection. The deep blue fabric hugged her figure perfectly. Tonight was important—a charity gala her husband, Donald, had been anticipating for weeks.
She turned toward the bedroom door just as Donald walked in, fixing his cufflinks.
"I'm ready," Lisa said with a soft smile.
Donald didn’t return it. Instead, his gaze flickered behind him. A woman entered, her figure strikingly similar to Lisa’s—same honey-blonde hair, same elegant frame. But she could walk. And that was, in Donald’s eyes, the only difference that mattered.
Lisa’s heart pounded. "Who is she?"
Donald exhaled, exasperated. "She’ll be going with me tonight."
Lisa stared, disbelief numbing her limbs. "You’re joking."
"No. Lisa, I can’t be seen at the gala with you. People will talk. I’ll be asked to dance, and... you understand, don’t you?" He forced a sympathetic smile that made her stomach churn.
Her voice cracked. "You’re embarrassed of me."
His silence was answer enough. He walked forward, bent down, and lifted her from her wheelchair. The sudden loss of support made her gasp, but the real pain came when he deposited her onto the boutique’s sofa.
"I’ll pick you up after the party," he muttered, pushing her wheelchair toward the door. "Try not to make a scene."
And just like that, he was gone—along with her dignity.
Lisa sat frozen, her body trembling with rage and heartbreak. Hours passed. Customers came and went. No one paid her any mind until a sharp voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Move your legs."
Lisa looked up. A tall man with unruly dark hair and piercing green eyes loomed over her, holding a crisp white button-down.
"I said move."
"I... I can’t," she whispered.
He scoffed. "Right. Just because you’re beautiful doesn’t mean you can sit wherever you want."
Lisa’s lips parted, stunned. Everyone always tiptoed around her disability, treating her like fragile glass. But this man—this infuriatingly blunt stranger—spoke to her like anyone else.
"If you won’t move, I’ll move you."
Before she could protest, he scooped her up into his arms. The warmth of his touch, the solid strength beneath her made her breath hitch. For the first time in a long while, she felt... safe.
"What are you doing?!" she gasped.
"Getting my seat back. Now that I’m holding you, might as well enjoy it."
Lisa glared. "You’re insufferable."
"And you like it." He smirked, setting her onto a cushioned chair at a nearby boutique counter. "I’m Mike, by the way. Since we’re on a first-name basis after me carrying you and all."
Lisa huffed but felt an involuntary smile tugging at her lips. "Fine. Mike. What do you want?"
"A drink. And for you to help me pick out a suit."
"I’m not your fashion consultant."
"So leave."
Lisa crossed her arms. "I would if I could."
"Then you’re stuck with me. Pick a suit, Princess."
She rolled her eyes, but for the first time that night, she felt something other than sorrow. She felt seen.
Hours passed in effortless conversation. She laughed, she argued, she even forgot—for a while—that her husband had abandoned her. But the illusion shattered when a voice sneered behind her.
"Lisa? What the hell are you doing here?"
She turned. Donald.
"Did you crawl here to embarrass me?" His voice dripped with venom.
Mike stood, stepping between them. "Is that how you talk to your wife?"
"And who the hell are you?"
Mike didn’t blink. "The man who picked her up when you left her behind."
Donald's face twisted with fury. "Lisa, come with me. Now."
Lisa's heart pounded. She could go. She could sink back into the shadows, back into a life where she was nothing but an afterthought. Or...
She turned to Mike. "I have something to tell you."
Mike nodded. "I already know. You think it changes anything?"
Tears burned her eyes. "I can't walk."
He reached down, hands firm yet gentle as he lifted her once more. "With me, you don’t have to."
Lisa gasped, clinging to him as he carried her out the door. Away from the man who shamed her. Away from the life that caged her.
For the first time in years, Lisa felt truly free.
We all have our burdens, but to the right person, they aren’t burdens at all. Have you ever met someone who made you feel weightless?
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