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You Called Me A Cripple: He Called Me His Wife Novel Cover

You Called Me A Cripple: He Called Me His Wife

For four years of marriage, my husband, Julian Crawford, had avoided me, repulsed by my crippled legs, never once willing to touch me. And yet, in cruel contrast, my body betrayed me, my desires spiraling out of control. During a gynecological exam, under the hands of a stranger—a male doctor—I lost control, soft, broken sounds slipping from my lips. Outside the consultation room, my husband stood beside the woman he had never forgotten, Vanessa Whitmore, holding her in plain sight as he called me a "useless burden." The doctor adjusted my skirt for me, his fingertips brushing slowly along the side of my thigh. Then, in a low voice, he asked, "Do you want me to help you?"
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Chapter 3

Vanessa stepped forward and stopped in front of me. "Miss Ashford, what are you doing here?"

Her tone was gentle, almost as if she were concerned.

But her eyes stayed fixed on my face.

"Your face is so flushed… anyone who didn't know better might think…" She gave a faint smile, laced with false concern. "Sorry. I shouldn't assume things like that about you.

The moment I heard that, I froze.

Everything that had just happened in the consultation room came rushing back.

I could vividly remember how I had grabbed his wrist… how close I had been to losing control.

A faint, lingering dampness returned, as if my body were betraying me all over again.

My face burned, my breathing still uneven, my chest rising and falling.

Instinctively, I tried to wheel myself away—anywhere I could gather myself again.

But just then, Julian's gaze landed on my face.

His eyes stilled, as if he had suddenly forgotten what he had been saying.

He had never seen me like this before—soft, flushed, like a flower just coming into bloom… something that stirred an instinctive urge to protect, to cherish.

That flicker of distraction lasted only a second, but Vanessa caught it.

The smile on her face stiffened. Then she took a step closer, stopping right in front of me. Her gaze lingered on my face before sliding downward, then slowly lifting again.

She let out a soft laugh. "No wonder."

Her voice was unhurried, as if something had just clicked into place. "No wonder Julian chose you as a substitute back then."

My entire body went rigid.

My fingers tightened around the armrest, the color draining from my knuckles.

She casually brushed her hair back, her tone light.

"Looking at you now… I suppose you do resemble me a little. But… In the end, you can't imitate the real thing."

My breath hitched. The heat inside me faded, replaced by a creeping cold.

Julian frowned. "Vanessa."

His voice lowered slightly, as if cautioning her not to go too far.

But it sounded more like a perfunctory remark than any real attempt to defend me.

Vanessa acted as if she hadn't heard him. She bent down and adjusted the blanket over my legs.

The gesture looked considerate.

But to me, it felt like being publicly reminded of how useless I was.

"Oh!" she suddenly exclaimed, as if something had just occurred to her. Turning to Julian, her tone turned bright and eager. "Julian, you've been married for four years now, right?"

"Mm," Julian replied flatly.

Vanessa's eyes lit up, as if she were genuinely curious. "Then, being so in love, you must already have children, right?"

Children.

That single word struck straight at the place I least wanted anyone to touch.

How could we possibly have children?

He had never even touched me.

We hadn't even shared a real kiss.

The lobby fell into silence.

The smile in Vanessa's eyes grew more obvious. She pressed on. "Why aren't you saying anything?"

She tilted her head slightly. "Don't tell me… you don't have any yet?"

My throat tightened. Before I could speak, Julian spoke first.

"She can't have children." His expression was indifferent, but his words were merciless. "I'm not so desperate that I'd feel desire for a cripple."

I jerked my head up, just in time to catch the flicker of disgust on his face.

Shame poured over me like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing every trace of what I had felt moments ago.

So in his eyes, I was nothing more than someone broken—someone who didn't even deserve to be desired.

Vanessa paused for a moment.

"I see." Her tone was sympathetic, yet laced with unmistakable satisfaction. "Julian, that must have been so hard on you."

Just then, footsteps sounded from the other end of the corridor. The male doctor who had just examined me walked out of the consultation room.

He had only been heading toward the nurses' station, but he happened to hear those words—"I'm not so desperate that I'd feel desire for a cripple."

His steps paused slightly, his gaze settling on me in the center of the lobby.

But I didn't notice him at all. I was staring fixedly at Vanessa.

The shame from the consultation room, the humiliation of being degraded by my husband in public, and the grievances I had buried for years all surged up at once.

I could feel my breathing trembling.

But for some reason, I suddenly didn't want to lower my head anymore.

I looked at Vanessa, my voice unexpectedly calm. "Of course I can't compare to you, Miss Whitmore."

She froze for a moment.

I held her gaze and spoke word by word. "I heard that after you went abroad, you had two daughters."

The smile on her face stiffened slightly.

I didn't stop. My gaze dropped to her abdomen, my tone still steady.

"Today, coming to the hospital… Is it for a third one—with my husband?"

The lobby fell silent in an instant.

The next second, Julian's voice rose sharply. "What nonsense are you talking about!"

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