After five years of bathing him, helping him move, and acting as his round-the-clock caregiver, I accidentally overheard my paralyzed husband laughing with a stranger. He casually called me his “free servant” and bragged that he wouldn’t leave me a cent.

Inside, the familiar bite of antiseptic met me. A volunteer mentioned Lucas was in the courtyard with another patient. I headed toward the glass doors, smoothing my hair, trying to appear less worn.

Then I heard him.

“You adjust,” Lucas said. “People think it’s tragic, but honestly, there are perks.”

The other man laughed. “Your wife does everything. That doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it?” Lucas replied easily. “Marianne’s dependable. She doesn’t leave. She has nowhere else to go.”