At 40, I agreed to marry a man with a disabled leg. There was no love between us. During our wedding night, I trembled as I lifted the blanket and discovered a sh0cking truth.
My name is Sarah Miller, 40 years old. My youth gradually faded away in unfinished love affairs – some betrayed me, others saw me as a temporary stop. Whenever love broke up, my mom looked at me and sighed: “Sarah, maybe it’s time to stop chasing perfection. James next door is a good man. He…