The Devil's Perfect Trap

Sweat dripped from my forehead, but I gritted my teeth and kept moving forward. Every sharp pain shooting through my left leg felt like electric current through my nerves, reminding me that the damn car accident from a year ago had changed everything.

"Come on, Molly, you can do this," I whispered to myself, gripping the parallel bars tighter as I forced my left leg to take another step.

The engagement ceremony was just around the corner. I wanted Blake to see me getting better, not... like this.

"Don't push yourself too hard, baby."

Blake's voice came from behind me, gentle and caring. I felt his hands lightly support my waist, steadying my swaying body.

I turned to look at him—that handsome face filled with concern. His dark brown hair was perfectly styled, and those familiar green eyes held their usual tenderness. But I noticed the thin medical gloves on his hands.

Blake paused for a moment, then smiled. "This is a rehabilitation center. I think wearing gloves is more hygienic. You know, lots of germs around here."

Blake had already gently guided me to sit in the rest chair. "Tomorrow is our engagement ceremony. I wanted to try walking a few more steps."

"Don't push yourself. I'll always take care of you," he said, quietly adjusting the position of his gloves.

I leaned against his shoulder, breathing in his faint cologne. He's done so much for me, I thought. I should be grateful.

But that uneasy feeling still lingered in my mind.

"Do you remember that day?" I asked softly, closing my eyes as the memories surfaced.

Blake's body stiffened slightly. "Which day?"

"The day of the car accident."

One year ago

It was an ordinary Tuesday afternoon. I had just gotten off work from the Social Services Agency. As a social worker, I was used to handling all kinds of difficult cases, but that day I was particularly tired.

Blake and I had arranged to meet downtown. He said he wanted to show me a new real estate project he was investing in. I remember thinking that maybe he was finally going to propose.

"Molly!"

I heard someone calling my name and turned to see Raven Harrison running toward me from across the street. She was the director of the social services agency and Blake's business partner. Tall, blonde, perfect—she always made me feel somewhat inadequate.

"Raven? What's wrong?"

Before she could finish speaking, I saw the out-of-control truck.

It was heading straight for Raven.

I didn't think, just acted on instinct, rushing forward and pushing her out of the way.

Then the world went black.

"It was all my fault," Blake's voice pulled me back from the memory. "I should have been there to protect you."

I opened my eyes to see him gently massaging my left leg. His technique was professional, almost as if he'd been trained. But I noticed that as soon as he finished, he immediately got up and walked to the sink.

"What did the doctor say again?" I asked, though we'd discussed it countless times.

"Left leg nerve damage, possibly permanent limping," Blake repeated the diagnosis while carefully washing his hands with soap. "But with proper treatment and rehabilitation training, you'll recover. I promise."

He's sacrificed so much for me, I thought, watching his back. I have to work hard to recover.

Blake turned around, his gentle smile returning. "Alright, we should head home. Tomorrow's a big day—you need your rest."

As we left the rehabilitation center, Blake's phone rang. He glanced at the screen and his expression instantly changed.

"I need to take this call," he said, walking several steps away from me.

Though he lowered his voice, I still caught fragments of the conversation.

"I know the time is coming..." His tone was serious, completely different from his usual gentle way of speaking to me. "...proceed as planned."

When Blake finished the call and returned to my side.

"Work stuff?" I asked.

"Yes, there's an emergency at the company," he said hurriedly. "I might need to take you home first, then go handle some things."

On the drive home, Blake was quieter than usual. I secretly observed him, noticing his clenched jaw and his fingers nervously tapping the steering wheel.

Maybe it's just work stress, I told myself. Tomorrow is our engagement ceremony—he's probably nervous too.

After Blake dropped me off at my apartment building, he gave me a hurried kiss. "See you tomorrow, my fiancée."

I took the elevator alone to the fourth floor and unlocked the door to 4B. The apartment wasn't large, but it was cozy—Blake had helped me find it. He said it would be more convenient for him to take care of me this way.

I had barely sat down when my phone buzzed. A text message.

Unknown number.

I opened the message.

"Don't marry Blake, he's not worth it."

I stared at the screen. What does this mean? Who would send a message like this? A prank?

I immediately replied: "Who is this? Why are you saying this?"

But there was no response.

I tried calling the number, but it showed as disconnected.

Who would send this kind of message? Does Blake really have something he's hiding from me?

My phone vibrated again with another message.

But this time it was from Blake.

"Sleep well, beautiful."

I looked at this message.

Maybe I'm overthinking this, I tried to convince myself. Maybe that text was just a prank.