TheBreak that Burned
1094 Words
“Craig, bring the wheelchair to my room. We’re going out,” Nicholas spoke into his walkie-talkie.
In a flash, Craig appeared with the CEO’s wheelchair. Nicholas had sat in it for over two years following his accident and had perfected the act of appearing genuinely disabled.
He wore his neatly pressed uniform, and with Craig’s help, exited the hotel. After directing the driver, they reached their destination thirty minutes early. The team quickly disappeared Nicholas didn’t want to draw attention to himself, especially after arriving in a Bentley.
He rolled into the building and made his way toward the receptionist.
“Excuse me, sir. Do you have a reservation here?” she asked politely.
“No, but I’m meeting someone,” Nicholas replied, flashing a warm smile. After seven years apart, he was finally about to see the love of his life.
“Are you a member of this restaurant, sir? It’s reserved for members only,” the receptionist explained.
“I’m afraid I’m not,” he said.
“Well, you can’t stay in the main lounge, but since you've come a long way, I’ll find you a spot to wait for your friend,” she offered kindly. She wheeled him to a quiet table rarely used by customers.
She figured it would be inconvenient for him to roll back in once his guest arrived. She returned shortly with a bottle of water free of charge, despite the high cost of everything in the establishment.
“Here. You might need something to drink,” she smiled, placing the bottle on the table.
“Can I ask your name? Why are you being so kind?” Nicholas asked, touched by her gesture. For a brief moment, her eyes clouded with sadness.
“I was once in a wheelchair after an accident. No one really cared about me. Seeing you reminded me of that time and how much I wished someone had shown me kindness. A small gesture can start change, right?” she smiled again before returning to her desk to welcome a new wave of guests.
Nicholas focused on the bouquet of fresh flowers resting in his arms, his thoughts consumed by memories. He didn’t notice the pair who had just entered. Then he looked up and there she was.
Isla.
She stood tall, radiant, and elegant, just as beautiful as he remembered.
“Isla!” Nicholas called out with excitement.
She turned toward the voice, her expression instantly darkening into a frown. So this was what had become of him penniless, broken, and crippled. She looked at her mother, and the two exchanged a knowing glance.
“Nicholas, is that you?” she said sweetly, plastering a fake smile on her face. She spotted the paparazzi lurking nearby and quickly pushed his wheelchair forward, putting on a show.
Nicholas, unaware of her motives, beamed and handed her the roses. She accepted them with a gracious smile, ensuring the cameras caught every moment. The headline would write itself: Isla dines with the disabled true beauty inside and out.
Once they entered a private room and the door closed behind them, her face hardened.
“Nicholas, what is the meaning of this?” Her voice was cold, her act abandoned.
“What do you mean, baby?” Nicholas blinked in confusion.
Just then, the door opened and Delilah Montclair, Isla’s mother and long-time manager, walked in. She had stayed behind to park the car.
“What is going on here?” she mocked, glaring at Nicholas in his wheelchair.
“I told you he was a pathetic loser, Isla. He probably came crawling back to leech off our money now that you’re famous,” she sneered.
“What... what are you talking about?” Nicholas asked, his heart sinking. “Why are you treating me this way?”
Was it his disability? Should he stand up just to prove he could?
“I wrote to you when I was discharged. I said I was coming back,” he said, voice trembling.
“Wrote to me?” Isla scoffed. “Nicholas, it’s the 21st century. Who even writes letters anymore?”
She dropped into her seat beside her mother, eyes devoid of warmth.
“Let me make this clear, Nicholas,” Isla began. “There’s nothing left between us. Over the past seven years, I realized we’re completely different people. We’re not a match.”
Nicholas felt like the floor had vanished beneath him. “What are you saying? I thought you loved me. I still love you. Please, give me a second chance.”
He reached for her hand, but she recoiled in disgust.
“Nicholas, listen carefully. There is nothing between us. I don’t love you. I never did, and I never will.”
His eyes flared with pain. “Are you telling me it was all a lie? Everything we shared? Why, Isla?”
“I helped your family when your father died, when the Mafia came after you. I dropped out of college to support you. I financed your dreams, sent money from the army so you’d fit in with your friends. And now you throw it all away because I’m poor and disabled?”
Delilah snorted. “You think your little pennies saved us? Please. Your money couldn’t feed our dog. If it weren’t for the mysterious CEO of Ironcrest Group supporting her, Isla wouldn’t be where she is. Stop trying to drag us down with your sob story.”
Nicholas’s hands curled into fists. “Is this how you repay me? After everything? Thank you, Isla, for showing me your true colors. I would have given you the world, but you chose your pride.”
He adjusted his wheelchair, preparing to leave.
“You, giving me the world?” Isla laughed mockingly. “Look at you. That pathetic uniform. No fashion sense. Do you even know what a designer brand is?”
She flung her glass of water at him, drenching his clothes, and walked out with her mother, leaving him alone and soaked.
Nicholas sat in silence, humiliated. He rolled himself to a nearby park, the sun his only companion as he tried to dry his clothes. Pain weighed heavily on his chest as he relived the humiliation.
Then, a soft, graceful voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Mr. Kellan?”
He turned.
Victoria Sterling stood nearby, looking relieved. She’d been searching the park for over an hour, waiting to meet him to finalize their fake marriage license. She was about to give up when she finally spotted him.
- Writer
