I was diagnosed with endometriosis, a gynecological condition. The doctor said it could be cured if I got pregnant, otherwise, I’d need a hysterectomy. But after my husband regained his sight, he no longer wanted to touch me, only kissing my forehead and making excuses about being too tired. I understood he was exhausted from working at the massage therapy clinic all day, but then I heard him mutter as he turned his back to me: “By the way, you should go to a beauty salon and ask about laser scar removal or something. See if there’s anything they can do.” I was stunned. A long-forgotten sense of shame made my face flush red and white, but more than that, I was shocked. Was Samuel… disgusted by my face? My name is Aria Greene, and I’m twenty-eight years old. My husband, Samuel Song, is a blind massage therapist three years younger than me. We met through a matchmaking service. I had been badly burned in a fire, leaving a winding red scar from my cheek to my neck. It was quite frightening to look at. Because of this, I had put off getting married. Through my parents’ friends, I was introduced to Samuel. “It’s perfect. You have scars on your face, and he’s blind, so he won’t care about that,” my parents’ friend whispered to me. Samuel didn’t know about the scars on my face, which is why he was quite satisfied with everything else about me after our matchmaking meeting. He was kind and honest, and he played the ukulele beautifully. I happened to have a lovely singing voice, like a nightingale, and we often sang together at the clinic. Our regular customers said we were a perfect match. Fate had closed one window for each of us, but by meeting each other, we filled each other’s gaps. In anyone’s eyes, we were a pitiful yet enviable couple, because in each other’s hearts, we were the best partners in the world. Samuel hadn’t been blind since birth. He lost his sight due to light pollution in a factory accident. Although we had sought medical help for years without success, I still took him to see various specialists, hoping for some improvement. After losing his sight, Samuel taught himself the art of blind massage, and I quit my job to become the manager of the massage therapy clinic to take care of him. “Aria, I love you. I wish I could see what you look like, but that’s impossible now,” he would say, looking at me with his sightless eyes and gently touching my face, his smile tinged with sadness. Since both his parents had passed away, I knew I was the only person he could rely on in this world. I held the hand on my cheek, silently vowing to cure my husband’s eyes. However, my best friend had once quietly warned me that Samuel’s face was trouble – he was too handsome, and if he regained his sight, it might not be a good thing. Although I had worried about this point, the thought disappeared instantly when I saw the hardships and discrimination my husband endured. The life of a blind person is incredibly difficult, something only a caregiver can truly understand. I just wanted him to be happy and comfortable. Lost in thought, I habitually picked up a piece of tuna eye and placed it near his lips: “It’s okay. Of course, it would be best if you could see, but isn’t our life pretty good as it is?” Samuel nodded obediently. He was very dependent on me and always listened to what I said. We had never fought. I don’t know if it was because of our constant search for medical treatment or if those fish eyes we ate actually worked. One day, he suddenly told me he could see. It started when he picked up a toothpaste tube that had fallen on the floor without any difficulty, and he suddenly realized. I was overjoyed and waved my hand in front of his eyes to test: “Honey, can you really see now?” At the time, I was cooking in the kitchen, and because I didn’t want to contaminate the food, I was wearing a mask. He kept rubbing his eyes, letting out excited screams. Then he asked me to take off my mask, saying he could finally see what I looked like. “Aria, you don’t know how much I’ve dreamed of seeing your face. Your voice is so sweet, you must be a real beauty, I…” I froze, my hand hesitating to remove the mask. It seemed I was more afraid of my husband seeing my face than I had imagined. My facial features were naturally beautiful, but after so many years, how could I still have the delicate beauty of my youth? Most importantly, there was the crisscrossing burn scar on the side of my face. Before I could gather my thoughts, he had already impatiently removed my mask. “Honey!” The horrific scar was exposed before his eyes, and the air instantly froze. My heart sank because I clearly saw disappointment in Samuel’s newly restored, clear eyes. Little did he know, I too had once been young and beautiful… I couldn’t dwell on the slightly hurt tears, as I smelled something burning. I quickly turned back to the stove, where the fish eyes I was frying had already burned. The charred fish eyes were very sticky, burning the bottom of the pan and looking extremely unappetizing. “Don’t bother with that anymore, honey. I don’t need to eat those things now,” he said, hugging me from behind and burying his face in the crook of my neck. “I still love you, don’t worry.” Tears fell uncontrollably from my eyes as I realized I had found a good man after all. At least he hadn’t lost his conscience. I also mustered up the courage to tell him honestly about my condition. Due to years of hard work, I had developed endometriosis. The doctor said it was a common gynecological disease that could be cured by getting pregnant. If not, surgery would be the only option. The success rate was about 80-90%, but the chance of getting pregnant afterward would be almost zero. Blushing, I said, “Before, because of your blindness, we always used protection and didn’t try for a child.” The implication was clear, hinting at my excitement and joy at the prospect of becoming a mother. Originally, I had prepared myself to remain childless for life in order to take care of Samuel wholeheartedly. He just gave a noncommittal “mm” and continued to smile, but his gaze lingered on the scar on my cheek, refusing to leave. In the days that followed, he treated me even more tenderly than before. Since his eyes had recovered, he could also help with some housework. Samuel had lost his sight in his teens, but now that he had recovered, he quickly reintegrated into normal life. However, I vaguely sensed that something was off. Everything started to feel strange after we served an old customer at the massage therapy clinic. Her name was Lily Andrews, about twenty-something, very fresh and pretty, especially with her voluptuous chest. She had mentioned during casual conversation that she had breast augmentation. “In our line of work, looks and figure are essential. Otherwise, we can’t even meet clients,” she would say with a coquettish laugh, not at all mindful of mentioning this in front of me with my disfigured face. She often came to the clinic for massages due to kidney deficiency and lower back problems. Today she came again, but unlike before, my husband could now see what she looked like. That night was my ovulation period. After turning off the lights, my hand skillfully caressed his body, trying to arouse his interest. “Honey…” But he no longer wanted to touch me, only kissing my forehead and making excuses about being too tired. I understood he was exhausted from working at the clinic all day, so I nodded in agreement. But then I heard him mutter as he turned his back to me: “By the way, you should go to a beauty salon and ask about laser scar removal or something. See if there’s anything they can do.” I was stunned. A long-forgotten sense of shame made my face flush red and white, but more than that, I was shocked. Was Samuel… disgusted by my face?
After Samuel regained his sight, he quickly reintegrated into his social circle, like a fish back in water. I, on the other hand, began to isolate myself, changing from outgoing and lively to increasingly quiet and withdrawn. Additionally, I spent a considerable amount of money on an artificial skin mask, which I glued over my scars every day with special adhesive. Although putting it on and taking it off irritated the wound, causing a burning pain, I didn’t regret it if it made my husband look at me more favorably. “Aria, you’re developing a people-pleasing personality. Do you think he’ll treat you better because of this?” my best friend said angrily, accusing me of not seeing things clearly. I’ve always been good-tempered, so I gently reassured her: “It’s okay. He just regained his sight, so it’s understandable if he’s a bit excited and forgetful. As long as I get pregnant soon, everything will be solved.” At that time, I still maintained the traditional, virtuous side of a stay-at-home wife, believing that a child could tether his growing wild ambitions. However, what happened next made me heartbroken repeatedly, and the love I had stubbornly defended crumbled again and again. Samuel didn’t go to the massage therapy clinic very often anymore because he felt it was unlucky to pretend to be blind now that he had regained his sight. At home, he was used to my all-around care. After being diligent for only three days, he went back to being a hands-off boss and became addicted to online gaming. I often advised him not to play on his phone for so long since his eyes had just recovered, but he would impatiently shout at me: “Mind your own business! I mean… honey, I’ve just regained my sight. I’m curious about all the beautiful things in the world. Don’t worry about me.” Curious about all the beautiful things in the world. Including beautiful women. I pressed my lips together. He thought I didn’t know, but every night he was scrolling through videos of flirtatious beauties on his phone. Every time I caught a glimpse of this, my heart bled. His wife was lying next to him, yet he showed no interest in me at all. It was nothing but his growing disgust for me. Before heading back to the clinic in the afternoon, I casually mentioned that our regular customers, Mr. Zhang and Lily, would be coming, so I needed to go oversee things. Then I changed my shoes and left. To my surprise, as soon as he heard those two regulars were coming, Samuel seemed energized and arrived at the clinic on his electric bike even earlier than me. Faced with my surprise, he scratched his head sheepishly and said, “Mr. Zhang used to always bring us fish he caught. I wanted to ask him about fishing techniques.” I nodded, saying nothing, and went to the back room to clean the cupping equipment and other tools. Samuel was indeed discussing his eyes with Mr. Zhang, thanking him for the years of bringing fish, and chatting about fishing techniques for quite a while. Mr. Zhang left in a hurry after receiving a call about some work, and I heard the bead curtain at the door being lifted twice. Then a sweet female voice came through: “Oh my, the rain is so heavy today. I forgot to bring an umbrella and got all wet. It’s so hot and stuffy.” It was our regular customer, Lily Andrews, the PR girl who was a VIP member of our clinic. Last time she came, Samuel had continued to pretend to be blind while massaging her. This time, he chose to maintain the charade again. I didn’t understand why he could be honest with Mr. Zhang about his sight but had to continue pretending to be blind with Lily. Lily entered with a radiant smile, and even from the back room, I could smell the strong scent of her perfume. At the moment, there were no other customers in the clinic. Following a woman’s sixth sense, I secretly observed them through the door crack. Lily was attractive in every way, with a beautiful face like a bamboo shoot and unknown marital status. Just looking at the designer brands she wore, like Gucci, it was clear she held a significant position. To say she could be interested in Samuel… I didn’t believe it, but it was possible that my husband might be unilaterally attracted to her beauty. I lowered my eyes, deciding to observe quietly. Just then, my best friend called, so I said to him: “Honey, I’m going out for a bit. I’ll be back soon. You can start Lily’s massage first.” The only other female employee at the clinic had taken a day off, so it was just him. When Samuel heard my voice, his expression remained calm, but his face, unlike usual, was visibly flushed. “Okay, honey.” As I left, I deliberately closed the door and pulled the blinds, leaving no room for his little schemes. What he didn’t know was that I had already followed my friend’s advice and installed hidden cameras in the clinic to prevent theft. The reason I hadn’t told Samuel was that he was blind before, so he didn’t need to know. Shortly after leaving, I quickly went to a nearby shaved ice shop, sat in a corner without saying a word, and opened the remote surveillance on my phone. The woman had slowly removed her black stockings, lifted her jacket to reveal a perfect waistline, and lay face down on the massage bed. My heart and breath were suspended. Then they started chatting and laughing. I noticed my husband wasn’t wearing gloves but was applying massage oil directly with his hands. Generally, for hygiene reasons, our employees always wear gloves during massages. The next moment, something even more shocking happened. He had been giving her a proper massage, eyes straight ahead, only his cheeks growing increasingly flushed. The woman lying on the bed seemed very comfortable, letting out coquettish “mmm” sounds. Then she suddenly asked: “It’s so hot. Why don’t you turn on the fan in your clinic?” In my mind, I was urging Samuel to turn on the fan for the customer. Although the clinic was small, we had two ceiling fans. However, my husband blatantly lied to her, saying, “The fan is broken.” Although it wasn’t the height of summer yet, the heat was still intense. Even sitting in the ice shop with a fan, I was sweating. Lily made an “oh” sound, seemingly unable to bear the stickiness all over her body, and couldn’t help but ask: “Can you see?” Samuel shook his head in confusion. “No, I can’t see anything at all, don’t worry.” “That’s good. I’m so hot I can’t stand it anymore.” And so, to my utter disbelief, Lily casually unbuttoned her shirt. Her perfect body was directly presented in front of this “blind” masseur.
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