Chapter 38

Once Isaac was settled on the bed, Verena pulled a pair of scissors from her kit and neatly snipped open the hem of his suit trousers.

For the procedure to work properly, his trousers could not press against his thighs, or it would reduce the effect.

Before her eyes, his evenly built legs came into view.

Even after multiple sessions, Isaac still flushed with embarrassment whenever his legs were exposed to her gaze like this.

The beginnings of atrophy were already visible along his legs.

Shutting his eyes, Isaac pressed his fists tightly against the sheets at his sides.

Catching sight of his withdrawn posture, Verena remained silent,reaching instead for the silver needles to start the treatment.

Following her usual routine, she questioned Isaac a bout the sensations he felt with each needle she placed. The responses, however,were the same as before.

Still, Verena reminded herself this was only the beginning, and her confidence in curing him remained firm.

Within half an hour, the session came to an end.

While pulling out the needles one at a time, Verena repeated her usual reminder. "After treatment, don't let yourself get cold. Stay away from drafts or cool air,and watch your diet carefully. Avoid spicy or overly stimulating food."

When her hand moved toward the needle near the root of his thigh, her fingers unintentionally brushed against Isaac's skin.

Her eyes flicked upward, landing on his crotch,still covered by the dark gray fabric of his trousers.

From years of practice, Verena knew that patients with paralysis in the lower limbs often struggled with sexual dysfunction as well.

Back when she first reunited with Isaac after returning to the country, he had admitted that he was unable to function as a normal man.

She longed to raise the matter, but judging by lsaac's fragile state of mind, she knew another time would be more fitting.

Isaac might have lost sensation in his legs, but his eyes missed nothing. The directness of her gaze was impossible to overlook. Had she finally discovered the truth of his condition?

A crushing heaviness pressed against lsaac's chest,leaving himn unable to put his inner turmoil into words.In a rush, he ignored his condition and tried to push himself upright from the bed's edge.

Harsh reality struck when his arms gave out just as he managed to raise himself slightly, sending him collapsing back onto the mattress.

The sudden noise jolted Verena from her thoughts,and believing he only wished to rise, she quickly assisted him into his wheelchair.

"You should just call me next time," she remarked gently.

With his head lowered, lsaac murmured softly,"Thanks."

His assistant guided him into the changing room to put him into a clean pair of suit trousers.

In that moment, Isaac was overcome with a sense of humiliation. Even changing his trousers required another's hand. His fingers clenched tightly around the wheelchair's armrest. How could he possibly think of marrying her while trapped in such a condition?

When he didn't come out after some time had passed,Verena stood at the door and called out softly,"Isaac."

Isaac rolled out from the changing room, his voice deliberately casual as he asked, "What is it?"

Verena's eyes drifted toward him; dressed now in black trousers, his long legs still appeared striking despite the chair beneath him.

Her eyes shifted upward, lingering for a moment just beneath his waist.

Her initial plan had been to restore his legs first, to rebuild his confidence before tackling the deeper issue. Yet now, that approach felt like taking too much time. These issues could be treated at the same time.

Deciding it was wiser to face the problem head-on rather than delay it, Verena asked bluntly, "How serious is the damage to your male function?"

The sharp screech of the wheelchair brakes filled the room, jolting lsaac's body forward from the sudden halt.

Isaac's hand went rigid on the wheel, and after a pause,he lifted his head and asked hesitantly, "What did you just say?" "Stay calm," Verena said casualy, adopting her professional tone. "I'm asking because I need a clearer picture of your condition. In cases like yours,sexual dysfunction is common, but most of it can be treated. So whatever | ask next, I want you to answer honestly.It will affect how much I can help you regain."

Her voice carried no judgment, only calm professionalism, though she failed to see how deeply such words could wound a man's pride.

Isaac attempted to remind himself she was only his doctor. The reality, however, was harsher-she was also his fiancée. Both of them knew his issues, yet hearing such a question spoken aloud made him feel as if every fragment of his shame had been dragged into the open.

Though Isaac understood these questions were standard procedure, speaking about them in front of her tore at him with unbearable pain, as though his chest were being ripped apart. Every word felt like a cruel reminder that he was not only crippled but possibly impotent. Whether recovery was even possible remained unknown, but already he had begun grasping at fragile hopes.

For a long stretch, Isaac said nothing, and then gave a slow nod. When his voice finally emerged,it was low and strained. "Go ahead, ask." Once she saw his consent, Verena drew out a pen and flipped open her notebook.

Her first question was simple. "Do you often use sleeping pills?"

Isaac paused, and then gave a short nod."Occasionally"

From the night of the accident six months ago, Isaac had not known a single night of restful sleep.

He only swallowed two pills on the nights before a critical event or work obligation, hoping at least to function properly the following day.

Beyond that, his nights were either shattered by nightmares or consumed by vivid memories of the crash, memories that clung to him like a shadow and ate away at his mind. At times,he drifted into a hollow daze; more often, he simply lay awake. Again and again, he had to remind himself that his father's death was the weight he carried.

When the word "occasionally" reached her ears,Verena frowned and set her pen still for a moment.She understood his temperament far too well, and she knew he would never take sleeping pills unless an important event waited for him the next day. She suspected that on all the other nights, he chose to torment himself with memories instead. Once she finished writing down his answer, Verena lifted her gaze and asked, "Do you ever struggle with erectile dysfunction?"

Her voice remained steady, carrying the weight of a question spoken as though it were no more than a passing detail.

To Isaac, however, the words cut sharply, and hearing them from her made it sting all the more.

His hands clamped down on the wheels of the chair,and the veins on the back of his palms rose in strained ridges.

By then, Isaac no longer had the courage to form a single word.

He gave a firm nod, dropped his head low,and kept his eyes far from Verena's.

From above his bowed figure came the faint scratch of her pen moving across the page.

Isaac felt his heart sink like a stone. He thought that from the very start, he should never have clung to hope for his condition. He regretted ever agreeing to the marriage arrangement, for it had given Verena the chance to treat him and filled him with expectations he never should have carried. Verena had finished jotting down the information and prepared to ask another question,but when she lifted her eyes, she caught sight of Isaac's bowed head and the pitiful way he sat before her.

Although the room was filled with warmth, he sat in his wheelchair wearing only a thin white shirt. Sunlight filtered in from outside and stretched across his narrow frame, giving him an appearance so fragile and delicate it almost seemed unreal.

At that moment, Verena realized that her questions,which had seemed routine to her, had burdened him with unbearable shame.

The realization struck her heart with pain, and an overwhelming urge rose within her to pull him into her arms.

"Isaac." Verena spoke his name, and when his gaze lifted, she bent down so her soft lips could graze his lowered eyelids with the lightest touch.

Isaac sat in shock, his body frozen as though bound by stillness.

Verena drew herself upright and said in a quiet voice,"You promised you would trust me. So why are you so sad now? Your condition didn't come only from the accident. It's tied to your emotions and your state of mind. I told you that I would heal you, and I meant it. Have you stopped believing me?"

While speaking, she knitted her brows together and stole glances at Isaac's expression from the edge of her vision.

When she caught the faint shift in his expression,Verena lowered her head as if showing weakness. "Is it that you doubt me because I once worked as a doctor in a small town? Do you also see me as someone from a backward place, without knowledge,just like the ones who look down on me?"

By the time her words faltered with the edge of tears,Isaac grew unsettled, unable to bear the thought of her crying. In a rush, he blurted out, "No,I never thought that."

Recognizing the worry on his face, Verena refused to let him off so quickly. She kept her head lowered and made her shoulders tremble in a show of helplessness

Watching her like this left Isaac with the feeling that his heart was suspended in emptiness,reaching for something always just out of reach.

His hand lifted with hesitation, as if he meant to wipe away her tears. His voice caught as he said, "Don't cry.I believe you. I always will. You're going to be my wife Why would I ever look down on you?"

When his fingers stretched forward, they were caught gently in her slender hand.