After the Fire Burns Me

I grasped Eric Gabriel's hand, my fingertips feeling the warmth of his palm—a steady comfort on our wedding night. Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass came from outside the window, immediately followed by the acrid sting of smoke filling my nostrils. Before I could react, towering flames erupted from the living room; orange-red tongues of fire licked the curtains, crackling sharply. "Mom! Dad! Parents-in-law!" Eric Gabriel's voice was laced with panic as he tore his hand free and dashed toward the bedroom. I rushed after them, the thick smoke stinging my eyes so fiercely I could barely keep them open; visibility was less than half a meter. The door to my parents-in-law's bedroom was scorching from the heat; I kicked it open with all my strength and saw them curled up in the corner of the bed, their clothes already smoldering with sparks. Eric Gabriel leapt forward to rescue them; I turned and charged into the next room, where my parents and my sister, Mary Scott, were. "Sister! Save me!" Mary Scott's cries pierced through the choking smoke. I slammed open the door and saw her leg pinned beneath a fallen beam. Father was shielding Mother with his body; their hair was mostly burnt, and their consciousness was fading. I first pulled aside the beam to drag Mary Scott out, telling her to run toward the door, then turned back to help my parents. The fire had already reached the hem of my skirt, and my skin burned with pain, but I could not let go. Eric Gabriel, carrying the parents-in-law, rushed out; seeing me still trapped in the fire, he roared and lunged to pull me free. At that moment, the chandelier overhead crashed down; I instinctively pushed Eric Gabriel to the side. A sharp pain spread across my back, and I lost consciousness; all that remained in my ears were the roaring flames and Mary Scott's cries. When I woke again, everything before my eyes was pure white, and the smell of disinfectant overpowered everything. "The patient has multiple burns, severe nerve damage in the legs, a deformed fracture of the right hand with malunion, and symptoms of cerebellar atrophy." The doctor's voice was soft, yet it struck my heart like a heavy hammer. I tried to raise my hand, but my right hand wouldn't obey; I wanted to speak, but only garbled sounds came from my throat. When the mirror was handed to me, I nearly fainted. A grotesque scar crawled across my left cheek from the corner of my eye down to my jaw, the skin wrinkled and darkened like an ugly centipede. Eric Gabriel sat by the bedside, holding my uninjured left hand, his eyes red-rimmed: "Wendy, don't be afraid, I will stay with you always." Mary Scott, her eyes also red-rimmed, tucked the blanket around me: "Sister, I will take care of you from now on." During that period, they truly provided meticulous care. Eric Gabriel washed and fed me every day, helped me with rehabilitation training, while Mary Scott prepared various nutritional meals for me, patiently listening to my unclear words. I thought that even if I lost my health and my looks, I would still have them. I did my best to cooperate with the treatment, even though each rehabilitation session left me sweating profusely from the pain, and even though I would secretly shed tears upon seeing my limping leg and deformed hand. Three years passed like a stream of flowing water. My body showed no significant improvement; I still walked with a limp, my right hand was almost unusable, my speech remained awkward, and the scars on my face had not faded. As for Eric Gabriel, he had transformed from the awkward youth he once was into a successful corporate executive. He came home later and later; in his gaze toward me, the tenderness gradually faded, replaced by a trace of estrangement I couldn't understand. Mary Scott changed too; she no longer patiently listened to me. Sometimes, I called her several times before she slowly responded. She began dressing magnificently; the clothes and bags she wore were brands I once couldn't bear to buy. Eric Gabriel's Celebration Banquet was held at the most luxurious hotel in the city. He personally drove to pick me up, helped straighten my coat, and said with a barely noticeable tone of indifference, "Wendy, there will be many people tonight; don’t talk too much, just follow me." The banquet hall was brilliantly illuminated, filled with the scent of fine clothes and the gleam of elegant hairstyles; everyone wore smiles. I wore the long dress Eric Gabriel had bought for me, trying my best to straighten my back, but still stumbled due to my impaired legs. "Who is this?" Someone looked at me curiously, their gaze lingering on the scar on my face. Eric Gabriel's expression shifted slightly, but before he could speak, Mary Scott quickly said, "She is a distant relative of my family, somewhat disabled." I was stunned, a bitter taste rising in my throat. A relative? He actually let Mary Scott introduce me like that?