Broken Legs, Broken Vows

In a horrific car crash, my identical twin brother, Justin, lost his life to save mine.

The only thing he couldn't let go of before he died was his pregnant fiancée, Chloe, and their unborn child. To honor his memory, I proposed that the wedding go on as planned.

That way, she wouldn't have to face the cold, judgment of the world alone, and I could provide for them. For seven years of marriage, I handed over my entire paycheck.

I gave them everything they ever asked for. But in their eyes, I was nothing but the murderer who killed Justin.

On the anniversary of Justin's death, Chloe and her daughter forced me to kneel on the sharp gravel in front of his tombstone to repent. "If only you were the one who died that day," Chloe sneered, her voice dripping with blame.

At that exact moment, a profound exhaustion washed over me. On the drive back, I pulled out the divorce papers I had already prepared and handed them to her.

Chloe snatched them and threw them straight out the window. "You want a divorce?

Sure," she said, her voice icecold. "Only if you jump out of the car right now and crawl to pick them up." As she slammed her foot on the gas pedal, I didn't hesitate.

I opened the door and jumped out into the rushing wind.

Three days later, the local news went viral: [Man jumps from a car speeding at 60 mph, breaking both his legs, just to crawl to his divorce papers and escape his marriage.] Seven years of torture and a pair of ruined legs.

I had paid my debt to my brother. As for Chloe and her child, I was finally done. I woke up from a daze, feeling a crushing weight on my chest. I could barely breathe.

Without wasting a second, I dragged myself out of bed and knocked on my wife Chloe’s bedroom door. After a few moments, her irritated voice echoed from inside. "Julian!

If you knock on my door in the middle of the night again, I swear to God I’ll sue you for marital rape!" My throat burned, and it took every ounce of my remaining strength just to squeeze out a few words. "Chloe... please...

I need to go to the hospital..." But the door didn't open.

Instead, a barrage of harsh insults cut through the wood. "What, are you going to blame Lily for drugging your water again? Stop using these pathetic tricks to get my attention.

You disgust me!" "You've used the same excuse three times this month. If you want to die, go do it somewhere else.

Don't bring your bad luck into my house!" I clutched my chest, trying to explain, but the pain robbed me of my voice. Right then, the door to the adjacent room clicked open.

I looked up and saw my daughter, Lily, standing in the doorway. She was wearing a pink princess nightgown, clutching a cute teddy bear in her arms.

But her face was completely blank. She looked at my agony with total indifference.

Lying on the floor in a pathetic heap, I looked up at her, my voice pleading. "Lily... please, can you call an ambulance for me?" She offered a sweet, innocent smile, but the words that came out of her mouth were colder than ice. "No way!

You don't deserve to live anyway." "Julian, stop ruining my mom's sleep. You promised my dad you'd take care of us.

You're not supposed to make us take care of you." Looking at her, the tightness in my chest suffocated me even more.

Still, I couldn't help but whisper, "Even if I'm not your biological father, Lily...

I'm still your uncle Julian." Lily looked down her nose at me, her eyes filled with disgust. "No, you're not.

Mom said you're the murderer who killed my real dad." My throat tightened. I wanted to ask her. Is that why you put those pills in my water three times this month?

But before I could speak, she slammed her door shut. Chloe was right about one thing. This was the third time I had knocked on her door this month.

But from the very first time to now, she had never believed me. She hadn't even stepped out to look at me once.

For seven years of marriage, I had given her my absolute devotion and yielded to her every whim. Yet, she had never offered me a single, genuine smile.

And ever since Lily was born, she had kept me at arm's length, treating me like a threat. Earlier this month, I came home late from a business dinner, my stomach churning in pain.

Lily had suddenly walked up to me, acting so sweet, and handed me a glass of water. In that fleeting moment, tears had almost welled up in my eyes.

That brief warmth made me believe she had finally accepted me. I thought my years of sacrifice had finally earned me a place in their hearts.

But that very night, I paid a brutal price for my naivety. A week later, it happened a second time. And tonight, was the third.

By the time I discharged myself from the hospital, the sun was already rising.

I hadn't slept all night, and having my stomach pumped left me feeling hollowed out and completely drained. Yet, as I lay back on my bed at home, sleep wouldn't come.

Memories played in my mind like a tragic slideshow. Seven years ago, in that violent car crash, Justin died shielding me.

His dying wish was for me to look after his pregnant fiancée, Chloe. I promised him I would. So, I proposed that we go through with the wedding anyway.

I wanted to shield her from the cruel whispers of the town, and I wanted to make sure they were taken care of. Chloe had agreed. For seven long years, I kept nothing for myself.

I gave them my entire life. Even a heart made of solid ice should have melted by now. But their hearts were harder than stone.

As I had lain on that cold hospital gurney tonight, a single thought kept repeating in my head. It's time to let go. I got out of bed, walked over to my desk, and opened my laptop.

I clicked on the document titled Divorce_Agreement.docx.

The next day was the anniversary of Justin's death. Chloe drove us to the cemetery in the suburbs. It was ironic. Years ago, she said she wanted a nice SUV for daily driving.

Without a second thought, I took out a loan to buy her the exact car she wanted. But since the day I bought it, she had never let me drive it once.

Even when I had urgent business, she would dismiss me with three words: "You don't deserve it." Mother and daughter sat in the front, chatting and laughing about a million things.

I sat in the back, silent and invisible. From start to finish, they never noticed my pale face. They didn't even glance at me in the rearview mirror.

But none of that mattered anymore. I had already decided. Once we got back from the cemetery, I would hand her the divorce papers.

But I didn't expect Chloe to deliver one last, crushing blow before I could even speak. At the gravesite, I carefully laid out the food and flowers Justin loved when he was alive.

As I finished setting them down, Chloe's cold command cut through the quiet air. "Julian, kneel." I turned around, looking at her in disbelief.

Her face was twisted in familiar disgust. "You promised Justin you would take care of us. But look at you now.

Only seven years, and your true colors are showing. “ “Creeping around and knocking on my bedroom door in the middle of the night?

How can you look at your brother's grave and not feel ashamed?" "Kneel down!

Repent to Justin right now, or Lily and I will throw ourselves in front of the next car we see." Listening to her hysterical threat, I looked down at the sharp gravel covering the ground.

I stayed silent for a long moment. I knew she wouldn't actually hurt herself. She loved her life too much. But I knelt down anyway.

I didn't want to make a scene in front of my brother's grave. This would be the first, and the absolute last time.

The sharp stones dug painfully into my knees, but the physical pain cleared my head. It only solidified my resolve to end this marriage.

Yet, even as I knelt there, Chloe refused to let it go. She stood over me, listing my "sins" to Justin’s headstone, completely rewriting our history.

Hearing her trash every single thing I had done, I couldn't hold it in anymore. "Chloe, do you really have to completely erase everything I've done for you these past seven years?" I asked, my voice tight. "Those sacrifices were real.

You can't just pretend they never happened!" Seven years ago, she agreed to marry me. But the moment the ring was on her finger, she changed.

During her pregnancy, if I didn't cater to her every whim, she would scream that she wanted to die and go join Justin.

So, even if she wanted pizza at two in the morning, or if she threw the dinners I cooked into the trash because they weren't "perfect," I quietly did it all over again.

And after Lily was born, Chloe became terrified that I would try to take Justin's place in her bed. Every single night, she locked my bedroom door from the outside.

Even so, at her insistence, I underwent a vasectomy so she would never have to worry about me wanting "my own" children. For seven years, I never raised my voice at her.

I never let her lift a finger for housework. I shielded her from every hardship. Every penny I earned went into her account. I did it because of my survivor's guilt.

I wanted to make amends. I never complained. But to her, none of it meant anything. Hearing me bring this up, Chloe merely scoffed. "That was your duty!

You owed us that!" My throat swelled with dry emotion. I had no words left. She was right. I had promised Justin. I chose this path. I lowered my eyes, refusing to argue further.

Suddenly, something sharp struck my forehead. I winced and looked down. A few small pebbles rolled off my chest. I looked up and met Lily’s eyes.

Instead of backing away, she grinned mischievously.

She scooped up another handful of gravel and threw it directly at my face. "My real dad wouldn't have died if he hadn't saved you!" she yelled. "You ruined our family!" "You killed my dad, and now you want to hurt my mom.

I hate you more than anyone in the world!" It wasn't the first time I had heard these words.

But every time they came out of her mouth, they sliced through my chest like a razor blade. Then, she looked at me with pure venom. "Why couldn't you have died instead of him?

It should have been you." My breath hitched. For a moment, a wave of profound exhaustion washed over me. She's right. Why couldn't it have been me?

If I had died, I wouldn't have had to live in this endless purgatory of guilt and torment. When I finally stood up, my knees were throbbing so hard I could barely straighten them.

As they walked away, calling out for me to hurry up, I turned back to look at the name carved on the cold headstone.

I whispered softly, "I'm sorry, Justin." "I can't walk this path anymore. I... I have to leave her."