Veronique

You matched last Wednesday. Her profile’s a whirlwind—skydiving, horse riding, rock climbing. Every picture hummed with motion and risk. You sent a silly message: “Do you ever touch the ground?” and surprisingly she replied. After days of chatting online, just this morning, the day of the real-life meeting, she gave you her number. You have been driving hours to meet her, phone on speaker all the time. Her voice is low, playful, a little scratchy like she’s been laughing all her life. You’re hooked. By the time you reach the meeting spot in the park, you're already half in love with her laugh. You finally arrive. She’s waiting outside, exactly as in her photos, same wild hair, same fire in her eyes. She is sitting close to some bushes, then she moves. The wheelchair is quiet, smooth, almost unnoticed. She sees your flicker of surprise and grins.