Chapter 1

When I was eighteen, I pushed Ethan out of the way of a speeding car. The price? My legs were crushed under the tires, and I ended up as a double amputee.

With bloodshot eyes, Ethan held my hands and swore to God that he would be my legs for the rest of his life.

Back then, when I was screaming and losing my mind, unable to accept that I would never dance again, he just stood there. He let me bite him, scratch him, and take all my agony out on his body.

On my twentieth birthday, he got down on one knee and proposed, begging for the chance to take care of me forever.

Everyone praised Ethan. They said he was a saint, incredibly loyal, and that he had given up his own bright future just to stay by my side.

Until Mia showed up.

She stood in front of Ethan, dancing a choreography I had originally created, her long, flawless legs moving like a dream.

That was when I heard him mutter:

"Her legs are beautiful. Unlike Chloe's. Hers make me terrified and disgusted. I have nightmares about them every single night."

At that moment, my mind went completely blank. A loud, high-pitched ringing filled my ears.

My hand instinctively reached down, touching the empty space beneath my jeans.

Teardrops began to fall, hot and heavy, before I could even process what was happening.

Did he just say my legs made him feel disgusted? Did he say I gave him nightmares?

The pain was so sharp it felt like a knife twisting in my chest. I couldn’t believe those words had come out of his mouth.

Panicked and desperate to escape, I tried to spin my wheelchair around. But my hands shook too violently. Clang! The wheelchair slammed hard against the door, making a loud, echoing noise.

The people inside gasped. They both whipped their heads toward the door.

When Ethan saw me, a flash of pure guilt crossed his eyes. He rushed toward me immediately.

Tears blurred my vision. I couldn't see his face clearly, but a dull, heavy ache settled deep in my chest.

He dropped to one knee in front of me. As my tears ran down, I could make out the intense anxiety and concern on his face.

"Are you hurt? Did you get hurt somewhere?"

Seeing that I didn't answer, he gently wiped the tears from my cheeks. His voice was incredibly tender.

"Why are you crying? Did the crash hurt? I'm so sorry, Chloe. It’s all my fault. I didn't take good care of you."

He offered his arm to me, a warm, familiar smile on his face.

"Go ahead, Chloe. Punish me."

I stared blankly at his arm. I didn't bite.

There were faded scars all over his skin—bites and scratches from the dark days when I had first lost my legs and would scream until my throat was raw.

Back then, whenever I lashed out, his eyes would be filled with nothing but heartbreak and guilt.

I was a transfer student. I had joined Ethan’s class during our senior year of high school, and we became desk partners.

At our graduation after-party, we finally confessed our feelings to each other.

But that was also the night of the tragedy.

Ethan had had too much to drink. When I came back from buying water, I saw a car speeding directly toward him.

The alcohol had slowed his reflexes, and he didn't even realize he was in danger.

Without thinking, I lunged forward and shoved him out of the way. The car rolled straight over my legs.

I vividly remember the sound of my bones shattering, the scream that got caught in my throat, and the sudden, pitch-black darkness that swallowed me.

When I woke up in the hospital and saw the empty sheets, I screamed like a lunatic. I couldn't accept it.

While I was unconscious, they had amputated both of my legs.

To a girl who had trained her entire life to be a professional dancer, losing her legs was no different from losing her life.

My entire future was ruined.

Late at night, I would hear my parents crying softly in the hallway, worrying about my future. It made me feel like a useless burden. I didn't want to live anymore.

But when I tried to end things, Ethan found me. He wrestled the blade out of my hand.

He knelt in front of my bed, his face still swollen from where my father had slapped him in a rage, his eyes red from crying.

"Chloe, I'm so sorry! It's all my fault. I did this to you! I'm so sorry!"

He kept apologizing, sobbing hysterically as he slapped himself hard across the face.

Then, he raised his hand and made a vow, his gaze fiercer and more determined than I had ever seen.

"Chloe, from now on, I will be your legs. Wherever you want to go, I will take you. I will be with you forever."

"If I ever break this promise, let my life fall apart completely!"