Chapter 2

Once Ethan left, the penthouse felt desolate. Even the sunlight on the terrace turned freezing cold.

Martha came over to drape a blanket over my shoulders. I grabbed her wrist. "Martha, what's today's date?"

She hesitated. "It's... it's July sixth, dear. Why do you ask?"

I could hear the tremor of guilt in her voice.

"You’ve worked here for three years, Martha. In that time, seventeen pieces of jewelry Ethan bought me have gone missing. Together, they're worth nearly twenty thousand dollars. I know your husband is bedridden and you have hospital bills to pay. I never reported you. Now tell me the truth: what is today's date?"

With a thud, Martha fell to her knees. "August seventh... It's August seventh..."

I told Martha to follow Ethan, to report back every single thing he did and everyone he met.

That night, Martha brought back an audio recording.

The background was filled with soft classical piano from a high-end French restaurant. Martha spoke with suppressed outrage: "I never would have guessed... Mr. Vance acts like an angel to you, but behind your back, he’s wrapped around another woman. They were practically making out over dinner..."

I thought I had prepared myself. For seven years, I had mentally rehearsed walking away.

Yet hearing the proof of Ethan’s betrayal, a suffocating agony ripped through my chest. Like a masochist, I played the recording over and over.

Chloe's voice came through first, smug and dripping with venom: "Babe, did Autumn really just let you go without a fight? I thought that pathetic cripple couldn't survive without you for an hour. I expected her to throw a hysterical tantrum."

Ethan's voice was detached. "She's obedient."

"And completely boring, isn't she? I remember how feral you were back then, doing whatever it took to lock me up. But look at her now—she's just a blind burden. What can she offer you? You still fell for me in the end. On her birthday in the past, you wouldn't even reply to my texts. Now you're taking me overseas for an illicit getaway. God, it's so thrilling..."

Finally, Ethan said, "The specialist I booked is only available tomorrow. Once your facial allergy is treated, don't get too wild. You're coming back with me within a month."

That final sentence shattered whatever was left of my soul.

I remembered Chloe's allergies.

Every autumn, an itchy red rash broke out across her cheeks, something local doctors couldn't cure.

And for that—to take her abroad to treat a minor rash—Ethan couldn't even wait twenty-four hours. He went to such sickening lengths just to lie to me.

Did he love her?

Had he truly fallen for the monster who destroyed my eyes? So deeply that he no longer cared about healing me?

"Don't be scared, Autumn. I'm right here."

"I swear to God, even if it kills me, I will fix your eyes..."

His frantic, tearful promises from years ago echoed in my head. During the first few years of my blindness, he had lived by that oath. He ran to a new hospital every day, desperate for a breakthrough.

Until one day, out of the blue, he stopped mentioning it altogether.

Was that when he started sleeping with Chloe?

I didn't know.

I was terrified to know.

With trembling fingers, I dialed the number of an old college friend who had become a surgeon—the one who had kept a lookout for my case.

The moment he picked up, his voice was laced with anger. "Autumn! Are you getting this surgery or not? A matching donor cornea came in six months ago! What the hell are you and Ethan playing at? If you keep stalling, it's going to the next patient on the list!"

A wave of ice crashed over me. My breath hitched.

A matching cornea had been available for six months.

Ethan had hidden it from me the entire time.