Her brows went up. “Wow, that was some forethought on his part.”
“You’re not happy for me,” I said, frowning like a spoiled child. I felt terrible playing her, horrible actually, but she had to be all in if I was going to convince the rest of the town I was marrying for love.
“No, because I’m not buying your story,” she said. “Not for a second do I believe you’re marrying Bishop because you fell in love and want to get married without your parents here.”
“You agreed to marry Brady after only a month of dating,” I said smartly. If she wanted to question my reality, I’d question hers.
“After knowing him for years. What is really going on here?”
I thought about the news from the doctor and swallowed around the lump in my throat. I was keeping a lot of secrets from her that I felt guilty about it, but she had enough to worry about with the trial and our business. Her hand came up to wipe away a tear I didn’t realize had fallen. “My leg is way worse than I let on,” I finally whispered, nearly choking on the tears I was trying to hold back. I was afraid if I didn’t fight it, I’d never stop crying.
“We can see how bad it has gotten, honey. Tell me the truth about your appointment.”
I sucked up a breath of air and let it back out shakily. “The doctor thinks after all these years, the nerves in my knee and lower leg aren’t working anymore. I can’t put any weight on it without the brace on, and even with the brace...”
She brushed a piece of hair off my face and behind my ear. “Are you saying your leg is paralyzed?”
“Mostly,” I whispered. “I have some movement at the hip, but from the knee down, it’s limp. I can’t bend my knee or ankle without using my hands. That’s why my leg just drags around behind me.”
She pulled me over onto her shoulder and rubbed my back tenderly, giving me time to pull myself together. “Why didn’t you tell me? You don’t have to be strong all the time. Sometimes you can just admit that you need help.”
“I know, but I don’t want to pile more on you than I already have. You’ve dealt with this for as long as I have now.”
She sat back and held my shoulders, her head shaking. “No. I’ve witnessed you deal with it. There’s a difference. I get to go home at the end of the day while still having the use of both my legs. You don’t have that luxury. You get to lean on us for support, Amber. What tests does he want? An MRI or something?”
I wiped away another tear. “No, there is too much metal in that leg for an MRI. He wants to do the nerve conduction studies. The results will tell him what nerves are damaged and how to program the brace that they want me to get.”
“The one that costs more than a house?” she asked, her brow raised.
“That’s the one,” I agreed. “It’s programmed with a microprocessor, so it does the work my knee no longer can do.”
“How are you going to pay for it?”
“I wasn’t going to,” I said, swallowing back more tears and wiping my face on my shoulder. “I was going to buy a wheelchair and give up, but Bishop wouldn’t let me.”
“Bisho—” The word died on her lips, and she gazed at me, her head tipped to the right. “I’m trying to figure out how marrying Bishop comes into play here because something tells me it does.”
I took a drink of Coke and let out a shaky breath, breaking eye contact with her so I could give it to her straight without seeing the disappointment in her eyes.
“Bishop has insurance for him and his daughter that pays for things like braces. If we get married, he can put me on his policy, and that will pay for the tests and the brace.” I hung my head because I was so ashamed. “It was his idea,” I stuttered, swallowing back more tears. “He asked me after the appointment yesterday, and it hit me that I couldn’t keep pretending it wasn’t necessary to get the brace. I can’t ask my parents for money, and I don’t have the money to do it, either.”
“So last night, you agreed to marry him for insurance instead of love,” she clarified.
“I know it’s wrong,” I said on a sob. “I know it’s morally and ethically wrong, but I don’t know what else to do. I’m so scared, Hay-Hay. I’m barely thirty, and I’m facing life in a wheelchair. How am I going to work?”
“Rock and a hard place, right?” she asked, wiping a tear off her face.
I nodded and rocked a little on the couch, my arms wrapped around my waist. “You know I can’t use crutches for long periods because my arm has rods in it, too. I’m just screwed. It’s so wrong to let Bishop’s insurance pay for this. I know that, logically, but emotionally, I’m petrified. I have to do something.”
She pulled me back into her chest and smoothed my hair, running her fingers through it like she has since she was a tiny girl. “I can see how scared you are, Amb. You never talk about your pain or challenges, so I know it must be bad. Here’s what I think. Are you listening?” she asked as I rested on her shoulder. I nodded, so she would know I was. “I think you’ve made the right choice.”
I sat up instantly to stare at her. “What?”
She nodded with her lips in a grim line. “I’m not going to judge you for this. I’m not
