I glanced toward the years of research spread across his desk.
Every page reflected his determination and remorse.
“You should’ve told me,” I said quietly.
“I know,” he whispered. “I was wrong.”
I approached him and studied his face properly for the first time.
I could see his exhaustion, fear, and fragile hope.
“You took my sight,” I said. “But you spent your life trying to give it back.”
Tears filled his eyes.
“Every single day.”
My anger remained, but I began to understand him differently.
“No more secrets.”
“Never again,” he promised.
For the first time, I could truly see the man I’d married.
And despite the pain of discovering his secret, I chose him again.
This time, in the light.
