The words over at Three Word Wednesday are accident. Loyal and obscene
It was a game she liked to play, all the while they dated. He loathed it, but considered himself a good sport for playing along.
She’d name a calamity, a series of jarring events where she’d be maimed, burned, brutalized or irrevocably broken, and asked, “Would you still love me?”
“Feed me and scoop food off my chin?”
“Take me to the bathroom and wipe me after going to the bathroom?”
“All of it, yes. I love you.”
Two months into their nuptials, he’d been clipped by a drunk driver. The impact severed his spine at the T12 vertebra, rendering his legs, his bowels, his cock, useless. Months of therapy.
All to learn how to live in a chair with wheels.
He decided to make the best of it, All of it. The pitiful looks of sorrow. Dealing with the bag hidden in his pant leg where his piss collected. Feeling arousal, but staring at his flaccid member.
And in that time of recovery, he needed help to eat, to bathe, to take a crap for chrissakes.
She was loyal for almost a month. And then she fled, saying she just didn’t have it in her to take care of a cripple.
A year after their divorce, she’d run into him at the grocery, exiting a Cadillac Escalade and into a custom wheelchair he helped design.
“Looks like you’re doing well for yourself,” she said, shyly.
He smiled. Remembered the game she played. And it emboldened him.
“Funny, but I got an obscene amount of cash in the settlement,” he said. “I’m semi-retired now.”
She fumbled for something to say as his girlfriend rounded the mass of expensive vehicle and jumped into his lap.
“Hey, stud, looks like you need to pee,” she said, patting his chest.
He looked at his ex and winked.