When I Sat in the Wheelchair, He Left Me for His First Love

The moment I had to use a wheelchair, my boyfriend dumped me. Due to complications from a surgery a decade ago, my legs had flared up, leaving me temporarily bound to a wheelchair. At the exact same time, my billionaire CEO boyfriend, Tristan Hayes, changed his phone wallpaper from a picture of me to one of his unforgettable first love, Bella Vance. After helping me assemble a newly bought storage shelf, he handed me a check. "This will be more than enough to cover your living expenses from now on. Let's break up." I didn't cry or throw a fit. I just watched him walk away in silence. The next day, I followed my doctor's advice and checked into the hospital. At the same time, I made a phone call to someone else: "There's an opening for a boyfriend. Interested?" When I returned from the clinic, Tristan was holding a screwdriver, putting together a shelving unit I had recently ordered. I was just about to compliment him on how handy he was, but before I could, he spoke up without looking back. "Chloe, you'll have to assemble things like this on your own from now on. Just follow the instruction manual step by step. It's not that hard." His words hit me like a bucket of ice water poured straight over my head. What was he talking about? Before I could even process it, he continued, "You can keep this penthouse. We're done." The hand holding my medical report froze in midair. Noticing my sudden stillness, Tristan leaned over and glanced at the paper in my hand. When his eyes caught the line—*Wheelchair recommended; surgery advised as soon as possible*—this prominent, high-society heir hesitated. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for how to handle the situation. I had been complaining about leg pain for weeks, but he had been far too busy taking Bella out on dates to pay me any mind. Now, ditching a girlfriend who was about to be wheelchair-bound was bound to stir up gossip. It might tarnish the spotless reputation of the great heir to the Hayes Group. He knitted his brows, tearing his gaze away from the medical slip. Finally, he spoke up again. "Tell you what. I'll write you a check for another three hundred thousand dollars. You can use it to hire a full-time caregiver." With that, he slipped a check into my hand, quickly turning toward the door as if terrified I might cling to his pant leg and beg him to stay. At the threshold, he stopped and turned his head slightly, as if remembering something else. "If you really need help with anything, call my office. But only during business hours. Outside of work, I don't want Bella getting the wrong idea." The door slammed shut behind him with a dull thud. He truly was a high-powered billionaire playboy. Tristan Hayes was nothing if not ruthless and decisive in romance. Seven years of history, sliced through in less than seven minutes. Impressively fast. Standing in the vast, empty penthouse, my thoughts swirled in chaos. It felt as though an essential piece of my soul was being torn away. I kept repeating to myself: *Chloe Brooks, don't cry! A man who stomps all over your loyalty isn't worth a single tear!* Yet tears still spilled over, streaming down my cheeks like a broken dam. Through my blurred vision, I could almost see the Tristan from seven years ago walking toward me. Back then, a sudden, horrific fire had taken the lives of both my parents. My entire world had gone pitch-black. After forcing myself through their funerals, utterly broken and desperate, I had run out onto a suburban bridge on a pouring, stormy night. Staring down at the raging river below, I had prepared to jump. It was Tristan who had sprinted through the storm and grabbed my arm. "Chloe Brooks! I'm in love with you! Stay alive for me, please?" The rain had chilled me to the bone, but Tristan's embrace had carried warmth. When he learned about my tragedy, he had stroked my hair gently. "Chloe, even if the whole world abandons you, you still have me. From now on, I'm your family." Just like that, he brought me home. I had truly believed that God took pity on me, blessing me with Tristan Hayes.Even all our friends and college classmates thought I was the luckiest girl in the world. Yet now that the dream was over, I realized life had simply dragged me right back to square one. I was all alone again. Thinking back carefully, there had been plenty of warning signs that Tristan was stepping out on me. I had just been too consumed by running back and forth to the hospital to notice. Well, at least I had his penthouse and a hefty check. I had no desire to keep living in this place, wallowing in bittersweet memories every single day. I would sell the penthouse and wipe him from my mind as quickly as possible. I reminded myself over and over: when it comes to relationships, you have to be as ruthless and clean-cut as Tristan Hayes. My phone buzzed repeatedly. I picked it up and immediately saw a new post on Bella Vance's Instagram. The picture showed a man and a woman with their fingers tightly intertwined. I instantly recognized the man's hand. It was Tristan's. Her caption read: *Seven years apart, and everything has fallen back into place. Turns out love is a circle—no matter how far you drift, you always end up right where you started.* The comments section was already bursting with excitement: *So sweet! You two are literally soulmates!* *Gorgeous girl, take good care of our campus heartthrob!* Only one lone comment struck an awkward note: *Wait, they're back together? Didn't our heartthrob date Chloe Brooks for years?* In less than a minute, that comment was deleted. Right after that, Tristan's reply popped up beneath her photo: *Love you, baby!* Perhaps it was because I had already cried my eyes out and let it all go. Looking at those three words from Tristan now, my chest didn't even register a ripple. Toward evening, I went out to a shopping center to pick up some essentials for my hospital stay. Stepping into the mall, I was just about to take the escalator down to the lower level when a familiar group caught my eye. Tristan was walking ahead, holding Bella's arm, flanked by two of his wealthy fraternity buddies. Catching sight of me, one of his friends marched right over with a sneer. "What are you doing here? Stalking Tristan? Look, save yourself the trouble. He's totally over your clingy act." Standing beside him, Tristan's other friend chimed in instantly. "Exactly! Tristan's heart belongs to Bella now. If you try to cause a scene and upset Bella, you'll regret it!" Just then, Tristan stopped in his tracks and turned around. The second he saw me, his face darkened into a stormy scowl. While Bella stepped into a designer boutique, he strode straight toward me. His dark eyes bore into mine, cold and sharp as frozen daggers. "Chloe, we're even. Are you seriously going to keep pestering me?" "You're flattering yourself. I'm not," I replied, voice flat. "Then why are you trailing me?" he snapped. I didn't even look at him. "I'm not following you. I came to shop." Right at that moment, the clerk from the loungewear boutique I frequented called out my name from the doorway. "Chloe! You're finally here! We've been holding that new winter loungewear set for you since last week. I was just about to call you!" I took the chance to step into the store. "Chloe, isn't that handsome guy out there your boyfriend? I just saw him walking around with his arm around some other girl. What happened?" Last fall, Tristan and I had shopped here together, and I had bought him a designer pajama set, which was why the clerk remembered his face. I gave a calm, faint smile. "He's not my boyfriend anymore. He has a new girl." "Wait, what? Weren't you two doing great just a little while ago?" "Feelings change, it's complicated. Anyway, we broke up," I said casually, letting the topic roll off my back.Reading the room, the clerk tactfully stopped probing. That was when she noticed my slight limp. "What happened to your leg?" she asked with genuine concern. When she learned I was booked for orthopedic surgery, she flared up with indignation. "Don't tell me your ex dumped you because of this?!" I shook my head, then nodded slowly. Was that the reason? Maybe, maybe not. Even I couldn't say for sure. It wasn't something I had really thought about. After all, he had rekindled things with Bella long before he saw that doctor's note. Even if my legs were perfectly fine, even if I had knelt and wept at his feet, he wouldn't have looked back. The clerk immediately took my side. "Dumping you right when your health falls apart? What an absolute scumbag! Good riddance! You're going to find someone a million times better!" That was the very first piece of encouragement anyone had given me since the breakup. A sudden wave of warmth pricked at the corners of my eyes. I smiled, gave her a nod, took the packaged loungewear, and headed straight for the supermarket downstairs. I had only taken a few steps before a slender figure stepped into my path. I looked up straight into Bella Vance's smug, gloating eyes. Truth be told, Bella and I had known each other back in college. We were in the same student club and frequently worked on campus events together. Now, the way she looked at me was dripping with superiority. She looked me up and down, as if searching for what on earth Tristan had ever seen in his ex compared to herself. "You're not going to cling to Tristan and beg him to take you back, are you?" she asked suddenly. Before I could answer, Tristan's voice cut through the air behind her. "Bella!" Bella immediately turned with a sweet smile, looping her arm through his. Tristan wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. His eyes brimmed with an overwhelming tenderness. The boutique clerk, who happened to catch the whole display, rolled her eyes and called out loudly to me, "Chloe, honey! If you ever need anything delivered to your place, just give me a shout and I'll bring it over personally!" I snapped out of it and smiled back. "Will do!" The next morning, I checked into the hospital. After finishing the admission paperwork and running pre-op tests, I asked the head nurse about hiring a private caregiver. The helpful nurse promptly recommended three candidates. I picked a woman around my own age; being close in age made communication so much easier. The surgery took place on my second day in the hospital, lasting over four hours. When I was wheeled out of the operating room, dull, throbbing aches flared repeatedly through my left thigh. I pulled out my phone and Bella's latest post popped right into view: a scenic photo of the Maldives' turquoise waters, with her and Tristan strolling hand in hand along the shoreline. Though I had put up a strong front for days, my heart twinged with a dull, heavy ache just like my leg. A doctor in a white coat came by to tell me the procedure went smoothly. I would need to remain admitted for about a month, depending on how the wound healed. She gently advised me to chat with family members to keep my spirits up and ease mental stress. Thinking about spending an entire month trapped in this room made my chest tight. Besides, I didn't have any family. I couldn't help thinking of Tristan. Just three days ago, I had considered him my only family. But now, he was a stranger. The day after surgery, my caregiver was wheeling me down the elevator when a young man on crutches stepped in. Exiting the elevator, he made his way to the hospital's small courtyard garden as well. Two male aides trailed closely behind him. One of them reached out to support him, but he waved them off with mild irritation. "I don't need help!" The aides had no choice but to keep a respectful distance. Perhaps sensing my curious stare, he turned his head and looked at me. "Wait... aren't you..." He scratched his head, squinting. I stared back in surprise, assuming he had mistaken me for someone else. "I don't think we know each other," I said quietly. "No, I'm sure of it," he said, realization dawning on his face. "You're little Chloe." My heart skipped a beat. "Little Chloe" was a childhood nickname. Ever since my parents passed away, nobody had ever called me that. I looked at him, completely baffled. "And you are...?"