After five years of cleaning him, lifting him, and being his full-time nurse, I overheard a conversation between my paralyzed husband and a stranger. He was saying that I was his “free servant” and that he wouldn’t leave me a penny.

The bakery was already lit up when I arrived. The smell of butter and sugar enveloped me, and for a moment, I pretended to be an ordinary woman buying breakfast for a loved one.

The cashier smiled and asked, “What can I get you this morning?”

“Two cinnamon buns and a box of plain pastries,” I replied. “And a black coffee.”

I paid in cash, counting carefully, and drove to the hospital with the bag on the passenger seat, imagining Lucas’s expression when I arrived.

Inside the building, the chilling, familiar smell of disinfectant greeted me. A volunteer told me Lucas was in the courtyard with another patient. I walked towards the glass doors, fixing my hair and trying to look less tired than I was.

That’s when I heard his voice.

“You get used to it,” Lucas said. “People find it tragic, but honestly, it has its advantages too.”

Another man laughed and replied, “Your wife does everything. Doesn’t it bother you?”

Lucas’s answer came to him naturally. “Why would she do that? Marianne is reliable. She’s not going anywhere. She has nowhere to go.”

I stood frozen, breathless, just out of their field of vision.

The other man chuckled softly. “Looks like you landed safely.”

“Yes,” Lucas said. “I receive free care. No facility. No bills. Just patience and hope to keep it in place.”

“And the inheritance?” asked the man.

Lucas lowered his voice slightly, but not enough for me to hear. “My assets are safe for my son and sister. Family is family. Marianne believes that loyalty guarantees continuity.”

They both laughed.