Marrying a Disabled Man: A Heartfelt Story Thank you all for your support, your likes, your thoughtful comments and reviews, for subscribing, and a MASSIVE thank you from me and my five cats for every donation. Please share any stories you enjoy on social media too—it means a lot to the author! My daughter came home late from the hospital, where she works as a nurse in the A&E. She spent ages in the shower and then shuffled into the kitchen in her dressing gown. “There are meatballs and pasta in the frying pan,” I offered, looking into her face, trying to figure out what was wrong. “Tired, Lucy? What’s up with you tonight?” “I’m not eating. I already look horrible, and if I stuff my face, no one will look twice at me,” muttered Lucy, pouring herself a cup of tea. “Don’t be silly!” I protested. “You’ve got a lovely face, intelligent eyes, a normal nose and lips—don’t talk rubbish, Lucy!” “How can I not? All my friends have been married for ages, and I’ve got no one! The only men who seem interested are total losers. The ones I like don’t give me a second glance. What’s wrong with me, Mum?” Lucy frowned, waiting for an answer. “You simply haven’t met the right person. It’s just not your time yet,” I tried to comfort her, but Lucy only got more upset. “Exactly! My eyes are small, my lips are thin, and look at my nose! If we had money, I’d get plastic surgery, but we’re skint! So I’ve decided I’ll just marry someone disabled—there are blokes at the hospital whose girlfriends dumped them after an accident or injury. What else can I do? I’m thirty-three—no more time to wait!” “Oh, Lucy, don’t say that. Your dad’s not the best with his legs either. I just thought maybe your husband would help out at the allotment—that would be a big help. How else are we supposed to get by?” I blurted out, quickly trying to explain myself: “Don’t get me wrong, Lucy, but not everyone lives like kings. Why do you need a disabled man? Look, there’s Alex from next door—he’s a good lad, been eyeing you up for ages. Strong, would have healthy kids, and—” “Mum, please! That Alex can’t hold down a job, loves a drink, and what would we even talk about?” Lucy rolled her eyes. “Never mind talking! I’ll send him to dig over the garden, then we’ll have lunch, or I’ll get him to pop to the shops. He’s a good boy, hardworking, maybe you two could make it work?” I suggested hopefully, but Lucy just shoved her nearly full cup away and got up. “I’m off to bed, Mum. I thought at least you saw me as a person. Turns out you, like everyone else, just think I’m ugly…” “Lucy, darling, don’t!” I tried to follow her, but Lucy waved me away: “That’s enough, Mum!” She shut the bedroom door right in my face. Lucy lay awake for ages, thinking about a young man they recently brought in—a guy in his late twenties who’d lost his leg below the knee. A wall had pinned his leg in a derelict house due for demolition where he’d gone for some reason. By the time they got him out, it was too late to save his leg. No one visited. At first, he’d held her hand and looked at her pleadingly after the surgery. When the reality sank in, he would just silently stare at the ceiling, more alone than any other patient, maybe because no one came for him. “Do you think I’ll be able to walk?” he asked her the other day, not meeting her eyes. Lucy answered firmly and confidently, “Of course you will. You’re young—everything will heal.” “Everyone says that. I’d like to see you live with one leg—what kind of life is that?” he snapped, turning to face the wall, as if it was her fault. “Why did you go in there anyway?” she retorted, suddenly annoyed. “It’s your own fault!” “I thought I saw something,” he barely muttered. After that, whenever she walked in, he’d turn away. Lucy looked him over: icy blue eyes, but a kind face. It was a real shame what had happened to him… “Are you pitying me?” he caught her staring once. “I can see it—you pity me. That’s all people like me get now. No one will ever love me.” “No one loves me either, even though I’ve got all my limbs—because I’m not pretty enough! No one even bothers to pity me. Maybe I’d get more sympathy if I lost a leg,” Lucy shot back, on the brink of tears. For the first time, Misha smiled at her, looking right into her eyes. “You’re daft! Not pretty? Are you having a laugh? I’d give anything for the man you pick to be me, you know that?” Lucy stared at him, and the strangest thing was—she really believed him. Suddenly, she blurted out what had been on her mind for days: “What if I pick you, Misha? Will you marry me? Or are you just pretending? If you’re quiet, I know you’re lying!” Lucy stood up and headed to the door, looking wounded. But Misha, propping himself up on his elbows as best he could, sat up in bed like he was about to chase after her. Realising he couldn’t, he called out, “Marry me, Lucy! I swear, soon nobody will even notice about my leg. I’ll get back on my feet—I promise! Don’t go, Lucy…” Lucy paused in the corridor, almost crying—yet somewhere inside, she suddenly felt that he was THE ONE. It didn’t matter anymore that her nose was “wrong” or her eyes too small, or that he’d lost his leg. They’d met at last. The time had come, just like Mum always said… Misha threw himself into rehab with energy and determination. He had a reason now: he wanted to marry the wonderful girl who’d stolen his heart, and he needed to be back on his feet for their future. He wanted Lucy to smile again and believe that she meant the world to someone—that she meant everything to him. “You’ve finally fallen in love, haven’t you, love?” her mum asked slyly a little later. “Look how you’ve blossomed—you said you were plain!” Lucy didn’t even bother to deny it. She floated around the house as if on wings. Her only wish was that Misha would soon walk confidently and get used to his prosthesis. Slowly their walks together got longer—first in the hospital courtyard, then out along the snow-covered, Christmas-lit city streets… “That building there—that’s where I got trapped. They’ve knocked it down now,” Misha pointed out one evening. “Why’d you sneak in there anyway? What did you see? You never told me,” Lucy remembered. “You’ll laugh—a puppy, black with white spots, shivering and skinny. I thought I’d take him home, so I wouldn’t be lonely,” Misha explained. “Look, there’s a scruffy dog over there, watching us but too scared to come close,” Lucy pointed. “That’s him, isn’t it?” Misha rejoiced, and the dog trotted over and tag-teamed them all the way home… “Wow, Lucy lucked out—snagged a handsome husband, younger than herself, who’s even got a flat and no mother-in-law!” her friends joked at the wedding. Lucy’s mum got teary when Misha started calling her “Mum” too. He’d grown up in a children’s home—no family at all. A good lad, with real warmth in his heart. Most importantly—they loved each other. May they always be happy. And as for the allotment—who cares! Misha cheerfully found ways round anything, and everything worked out in the end. For now Lucy, Misha, and their dog Kuzma make three—but soon, they’ll be four. Lucy and Misha are about to welcome a daughter. Never lose hope—otherwise, your happiness could pass right by and you’ll never know it. After all, that’s the beauty of life’s unpredictability…

Marrying an Invalid: A Story

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Helen came home late from the clinic where she worked as a nurse in the trauma ward. She lingered in the bath before finally shuffling into the kitchen, still in her dressing gown.

There are some sausages and mash in the pan, her mother offered, peering into her daughters face, trying to figure her out. Hard day, Helen? Are you all right?

Im not hungry, Mum. Im hideous as it is, and if I stuff myself, no one will ever take a second look at me, Helen replied gloomily, pouring herself a cup of tea.

What absolute nonsense! her mother blurted out in alarm. Youre finethose bright, clever eyes, and a perfectly nice nose and lips! Dont talk rubbish about yourself, Helen.

All I know, Mum, is that all my friends are married already, and Im still single! The only men who seem interested are those no one else wants, and the ones I actually like never give me a second glance. Whats wrong with me? Helen scowled, waiting for an answer.

You simply havent met your match yet, thats all. Your time will come, her mum tried to comfort her, but Helen only became more wound up.

Match? Oh, I knowthats because my eyes are too small, my lips are thin, and look at this nose! If we had the money, Id get everything fixed, but were hardly loaded. So Ive decided: Ill marry one of the injured lads at the clinic. Some of them lost everything after an accidenttheir girlfriends left them. What choice do I have? Im thirty-threetimes running out!

Oh, Helen, dont say such things. Your fathers got dodgy legs and look at himstill gets by. I was hoping your husband might help a bit at the allotment, lend a hand at the cottage. It would be a real help, honestly. How will we manage? her mother blurted out, regretting it instantly. But dont get me wrong, Helen. Theres no need for you to settle for someone like that, not everyone lives comfortably, but why should you take on such trouble? See, look at Tom from next doorhes a good lad, always had his eye on you. Strong as an oxyoud have healthy kids, and

Oh, Mum, pleasenot Tom! He never keeps a job, always down the pub, and what on earth would I talk about with him? Helen protested.

Why do you need to talk? Id tell him Go and dig the garden, then come in for dinner. Or pop to the shop. Hes good-hearted, works hardperhaps you two could make it work, her mother tried to reason, almost pleading. But Helen simply pushed her tea aside, stood up, and muttered, Im off to bed. Honestly, MumI thought you at least saw me as a person, but you think Im a monster like everyone else

Helen, love, no! Dont be silly her mother started after her, but Helen just waved her off.

Thats enough, Mum, Helen said, closing her bedroom door in her mothers face.

She lay in bed, unable to sleep, thinking about the new patienta young man whose leg had been amputated just above the ankle.

Hed been trapped under a fallen beam in a half-collapsed house scheduled for demolition. By the time they got him out, it was too late to save his leg.

Nobody ever visited him. He wasnt even thirty.

At first, in the days after his operation, he clung to Helens hand and looked up at her with such pleading eyes. But as the reality dawned on him, he simply stared at the ceiling, silent and withdrawn. Helen felt especially sorry for himperhaps because he had no one at all.

Dyou reckon Ill be able to walk again? he asked her one day, not even looking her way. Helen replied with all the firm confidence she could muster:

Of course you will. Everything will heal in no timeyoure young and strong!

Thats what everyone says. Id like to see you try getting on without a legsome life! he snapped suddenly, turning to face the wall, as though she was to blame.

And why did you go in there in the first place? Helen shot back, annoyed. You only have yourself to blame!

Thought I saw something in there, he muttered. Now, whenever she came into the ward, hed turn away, facing the wall.

Helen quietly observed himhe had clear blue eyes, sharp as ice, and a gentle, handsome face. It was such a pity

Pitying me, are you? He caught her looking at him once. Its obvious. Thats all you can do for someone like me now. No one loves men like mejust pity.

People dont fall for women like me, eitherlegs and arms and all. Something about me is just off. No one even feels sorry for me. Would be easier if I had no legs at allat least someone might take pity on me! Helen snapped, the sting of self-pity burning behind her eyes.

But for the first time, Michael smiled at her.

Dont be daft. You, not pretty? Youre kidding me, arent you? I look at you and feel jealous of the bloke you end up with, honestly.

Helen stared at him, half incredulousbut somehow, she believed him. She blurted what shed been meaning to say:

And if I picked youwould you marry me? Youre silent, so that means youre lying. I can see right through you!

Helen got up, heading for the door in mock indignation.

Michael propped himself up on his elbows, trying to sit up as if he could chase after her. Remembering he couldnt, he called after her:

Helen, marry me! I promise, soon enough itll be like nothing ever happened to my leg. Ill be back on my feet in no timedont go, Helen!

She paused in the corridor, on the verge of tears, but at the very same moment, she quietly realised he was the one.

It didnt matter about her nose or eyes, or his missing legthey had found each other, and that was all that mattered.

Her moment had come, just as her mother had always said.

Michael tackled his rehabilitation with stubborn determination. Now he had purposea wonderful girl to marry, and a future he was resolved to stand up for.

He wanted Helen to stop feeling sad, to know that she was anything but unwanted. He needed herdesperately. Life only made sense by her side.

You look like youve fallen in love at last, darling, her mum observed a couple of weeks later. Youre absolutely glowing! I thought you said you werent pretty.

Helen didnt bother denying it. She felt as though she had wings, and her hearts dearest wish was for Michael to walk comfortably again and grow used to his prosthesis.

Little by little, their walks grew longer: first in the clinics garden, then along the snow-dusted, dazzling streets of London, festooned with Christmas lights as the New Year approached.

One day, Ill show you where it happenedthe house they knocked down. Michael showed her the place where the accident took place.

And what were you after, anyway? Helen asked, remembering. You never did say.

He hesitated, half smiling. Youll laughI saw a skinny black-and-white puppy there, shivering and alone. I thought, if I brought him home, at least Id have someone to keep me company.

Just then, a scrawny grey dog with anxious eyes was watching them from a distance, afraid to come closer.

Thats him, Im sure of it! Michael was overjoyed. The dog followed them, keeping a safe distance, all the way home.

Well, arent you lucky, Helen, marrying such a handsome manbit younger than you, too, and with his own flat and no mother-in-law to fuss about! her friends teased at the wedding.

Helens mother wept a little when Michael started calling her Mum. He was raised in care, with no family to speak of. But he had a good heart and, most importantly, they loved each other. That was all that mattered.

As for the overgrown allotmentwell, never mind. Theyd manage just fine; Michael did everything with a will, and always saw things through.

Now Helen and Michael live together with their dog Tobythe same one Michael had tried to rescue. Soon, their family will grow by one more; Helen is expecting a daughter any day.

Never give in to despairor you might miss your own happiness altogether.

After all, lifes greatest beauty is in its unpredictability.