Don't let them know you can see

3

Once, I blamed my clumsiness and blindness for my troubles, but now I see the truth. Ethan and Sophie, the two people I held dearest, conspired to mock me in my blindness. As I groped for the stool that tripped me, I found myself defending Ethan to Sophie, "Don't be hard on Ethan, he's done his best." Sophie, amused by my plight, moved the stool away, taunting, "Shannon, you always defend Ethan, always protecting him."

Ethan helped me to a chair at the dining table, speaking casually, "I'm Shannon's husband. It's natural for her to defend me, to protect me." Sophie pouted at his words, feeling slighted. Ethan quickly embraced her, comforting her with gentle pats on the back, yet announced to me, "Honey, I'll start on dinner." "I'll help," Sophie chimed in, leaning into his embrace. Their exchanged glances were laden with unspoken desires, pulling at each other's souls.

I watched them embrace, heading to the kitchen, my heart twisted in agony, tears refusing to fall. My first day of regained sight revealed the ultimate betrayal by those I loved most. I wished I had remained blind.

When they returned, their disheveled appearances spoke volumes, yet they made no effort to compose themselves. Sophie's cheeks bore a lingering flush, and Ethan, looking refreshed, followed with a plate of ribs. "Dinner's ready, honey," Ethan said, placing the ribs on the table and serving me. Then, like a serpent, Sophie slithered back to Ethan, feeding him a rib. He bit, and she took a bite from the same spot. Ethan's eyes darkened, his hand reaching to caress her lips, mouthing words I deciphered as "temptress." Their display sickened me, ruining my appetite.

Unable to bear their flirtations any longer, I excused myself, citing discomfort, eager for solitude. They seemed relieved by my departure, feigning concern before hastily ushering me to the bedroom. Ethan, cautious of any disruptions to their plans, even locked the bedroom door behind us.