I went home numb.
And my parents were waiting at the kitchen table like they were about to negotiate a deal.
“Sit,” my mother said.
I sat because I was too stunned to argue.
“He was in an accident,” I said. “He can’t walk. I’m going to be at the hospital as much as—”
“This is not what you need,” she cut in, clean and cold.
I blinked. “What?”
“You’re seventeen,” she said. “You have a real future. Law school. A career. You cannot tie yourself to… this.”
“To what?” I snapped. “To my boyfriend who just got paralyzed?”
My dad leaned forward, voice lower but no kinder.
“You’re young. You can find someone healthy. Successful. Don’t ruin your life.”
I laughed because I truly thought they were joking. Because no one could be that cruel that fast.
“I love him,” I said. “I loved him before the accident. I’m not walking away because his legs don’t work.”
My mother’s face went flat, like a switch turned off.
“Love doesn’t pay the bills,” she said. “Love won’t lift him into a wheelchair. You have no idea what you’re signing up for.”
“I know enough,” I said, shaking now. “I know he’d do it for me.”
Her hands folded neatly on the table.
