Don't let them know you can see

6

Sophie's voice was nowhere to be heard; perhaps she had already left. They didn't even bother to keep up appearances fully, but at least we hadn't openly clashed. She left without even saying goodbye. With that thought, I turned over, closed my eyes, and decided to sleep before contemplating my next steps. But soon, a series of faint, unsettling noises disturbed my slumber—sounds reminiscent of chopping bone, muffled and indistinct. My hearing had sharpened during my blindness, a trait that persisted even now. What once felt like a compensatory blessing now became a source of annoyance, with every little sound disrupting my peace.

The darkness outside was impenetrable, and opening my eyes revealed nothing. Guided by habit, I got out of bed and moved towards the door, opening it to the sound of the living room TV blaring Ethan's favorite financial news. The bright lights were almost blinding. I instinctively wanted to rub my eyes but restrained myself, fearing Ethan might notice. Pretending to be blind, I groped my way around.

Approaching the living room, the chopping sound grew clearer, seemingly emanating from the bathroom. But who would chop anything in there? Ethan wasn't in the living room; could he be the one in the bathroom? The thought of him chopping ribs in there just to spite me, taking advantage of my supposed blindness, infuriated me. Even if he was tired of taking care of me, this was no way to treat someone.

My anger growing, I pretended to feel my way towards the bathroom, the chopping growing louder and the faint scent of blood tickling my nose. Something felt wrong, but I pressed on, only to find the bathroom door locked from the inside. "Who's there?!" Ethan's voice, cold and sinister, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor, rang out. I bristled, feigning indignation, "Who else would it be in our home, Ethan? Playing dumb now? Am I not even allowed to use the bathroom anymore?"

The chopping stopped, replaced by the sound of running water—probably Ethan washing his hands. "Still upset?" he replied, his tone suddenly warm and conciliatory, laced with a hint of appeasement. "Come out, I need to use the bathroom!" I demanded, mirroring the temperamental, insecure demeanor I had adopted during my blindness. Ethan had always pacified me with patience and affection, making me believe I had the best husband. But it was all an act. He not only deceived me with my supposed blindness but also betrayed me with Sophie, my best friend. My resentment towards him deepened.