When I was dying of late-stage cancer, I fell in love with a “blind” massage therapist. Then I got pregnant. For my baby, I gave up chemo. I worked myself to the bone, saving every dollar for him and our child. I even signed a cornea-donation form—my final gift—so he could “see the world” after I was gone. But then, in the hospital director’s office, I saw a photo of him surfing—eyes bright, locked on the waves. “This is my son,” Director Vance said. I froze. “Your son… isn’t blind?” “Blind?” Vance laughed. “Of course not. He just has this weird hobby—loves role-playing. I heard he’s been pretending to be a blind massage therapist lately.” I looked down at my swollen belly. And I made up my mind. “Dr. Vance,” I said calmly, “sign me up for the new-drug trial. But under one condition—I want to play a role-playing game too.” Leaving the hospital, I finally heard Asher’s voice message. “Hey babe, pulling a double at the parlor tonight. That’s an extra twenty bucks toward your necklace.” Before, I’d have replied with a sixty-second voice memo, all honey and heartbeat. Now, my voice turned to ash before it could leave my throat. In that photo I’d just seen, he wore his half of a matching set with another woman. It’s an eight-figure custom design. A wave of bitter pain washed through me, seeping into my bones. Ding! Another voice message. “Why aren’t you answering? You don’t want it?” My fingers trembled, hitting the wrong icon. His reply was instant. “Why did you just send a period?” I stared at the screen. A sound escaped me-half laugh, half sob. He could see. He had always been able to see. Snowflakes needled my face. I threw open every door down the street. Finally, in a private booth, I found Asher, surrounded by people. A burst of laughter hit me first. “Asher, when are you going to reveal the truth?” He tilted his head back, draining half his glass. And for the first time, I truly saw those eyes. Cold, Sharp. Just as beautiful as they had been in my dreams. He used to sigh, saying that restoring his sight would take a cornea donor and a fortune in surgery. I had actually considered it. Donating my corneas to him after I died. I’d even researched what every part of my body was worth on the market. Surely, I could piece together a million. Giving him back the light was my last, desperate purpose. So tell me, Asher. What’s the price for three years of genuine love? At the table, his voice was flat, bored. “I’ll come clean whenever. I’m tired of her. She’s the one who can’t move on.” The girl from the photo lunged, planting a wet kiss on his cheek. Grinning, she went for the velvet box in his pocket. He caught her wrist. “That’s a five-dollar trinket. Yours is being delivered from the high-end boutique.” The room erupted. “Cheap girls get cheap prizes!” She pouted, all playful venom. “Asher, promise me one thing. When we get engaged, we invite that old hag to watch.” Asher took a drag of his cigarette. The ember glowed, then faded. He said nothing. “Don’t tell me you actually fell for it, Asher,” someone sneered. “That woman was devoted! Her mother’s entire life savings went to him. That’s the seed money for his ‘struggling blind masseur’ act.” In the roar of laughter, the world dissolved. I was falling. My mother’s last words, whispered through morphine, surfaced like a curse. “He’s an orphan. No family, no prospects. My darling…I’m just afraid he’ll break your heart.” But she still left the money to Asher. “My daughter is marrying you. This is her gift.” That day, Asher looked at the shop deed, face averted, hands trembling.
I thought he was too moved to speak. The truth was, he was fighting not to laugh. Every sacrifice my mother made, every piece of myself I broke off and gave, was just loose change in the ashtray of his decadent life. The girl tilted her head, her smile sweet. “Don’t laugh at Asher, guys. I’m the one who didn’t want to have a baby, so I told Asher to keep that one. If it’s a boy, he can buy it for two hundred thousand. I hear she’s stingy and materialistic. If it’s a girl? Just give her some child support.” Every word was a knife, stabbing into my chest. How I yearned for Asher to refute even one sentence. He only looked away. Then, a cackle cut the air. “Nicole, your prank target is so pathetic! Her old man got on his knees for ten grand, begging me to take his land! What a dirt poor? I nearly choked trying not to laugh!” The girl giggled, falling into Asher’s arms. Asher’s expression wasn’t good, as if he thought I had embarrassed him. But all I could see was my father’s hunched back, walking twenty miles through rough terrain. He finally placed the money in my hands. Every crumpled bill, every coin he’d saved for a lifetime. It was all meant for a surgery to make a blind man see. Mud crusted his clothes, but his eyes were bright. “My daughter is so beautiful… her husband must at least get a glimpse of her.” I watched the scene calmly. Inside, my world had already shattered. Ding. A new message from Dr. Vance. Attached was the confidentiality agreement, along with a text. “Hailey, I advise you to reconsider. The pain from this trial is unsustainable. Our attrition rate for male participants is nearly forty percent.” I signed my name directly. No. Nothing in any lab could ever hurt more than this. It was like I had planned to die in winter, only to be dragged back to life by excruciating pain. Back in my cramped apartment, I moved through the agony.I packed every trace of Asher into black bags and dragged them to the trash. I even cut up that precious scrapbook, my album of wishes. During bungee jumping, he held my trembling body. After fainting during diving, he nervously gave me CPR. When fear locked my joints at the plane’s edge, his laugh was the push that sent me falling. I thought those life-and-death firsts were shared treasures. To him, they were just items to check off a list. Asher came home, his blind cane tapping a deliberate, loud rhythm against the floor. He complained softly, “Why didn’t you come to pick me up?” In the past, I’d always rushed to meet with apologies and comfort. But not today. “Still pinching cents on gas? So cheap.” The word hung in the air. I couldn’t believe my ears. I was the one who saved on painkillers. Who stitched baby clothes by hand. Who, believing him an orphan, had never stinted on giving him everything. Even that was a lie. The silence turned suffocating. Asher’s mask slipped. Then, from my numb fingers, a small bottle slipped. It spun once, hollow and frantic, and stopped at his feet. My heart hammered against my ribs. If he took off his dark glasses, he would see the glaring ANTI-CANCER label on the bottle. Perhaps, he would feel a sliver of regret. All those nights I’d burned my eyes red, translating mountains of text to save pennies for a man who needed none of it. And he had always, always, pretended not to see. He began to bend down. His phone rang. Asher’s lips suddenly curved into a smile. He hurriedly tossed a box to me. “Your birthday gift. I need to take a client call.” I looked at the velvet box, feeling utterly hollow for the first time. As I walked into the room to get my medicine, I heard Asher’s soft chuckle on the phone. “It’s fine, her illness isn’t contagious. She should be fine by now; she’s just being dramatic.” “I secretly swapped out her medication, and nothing happened, did it?”
My head reeled. So that’s why I’ve been failing so fast. A wave of nausea twisted my insides. I scrambled to the bathroom, throwing up violently. Asher dropped his phone, his fists pounding on the door. “Hailey! Is it the morning sickness?” His voice was all false urgency. I didn’t answer. My eyes were fixed on the vivid, thread-like streaks of red swirling in the water. Then I calmly flushed them away. When I came out, I brushed away his hand as he reached to hug me. “I’m fine.” Asher’s smile stiffened. My odd behavior all evening was clearly irritating him. Upon seeing the unopened gift box, his anger reached its peak. He suddenly slammed his hand on the table. “I bought it for you, why haven’t you looked at it?” Did he expect me to be grateful for a fake? I slowly said, “I like it.” Before the words were fully out, a nosebleed gushed out without warning, and my vision began to blur. “Asher…” But he had already turned away, coldly muttering that an unsophisticated hick wouldn’t appreciate quality. Then he grabbed his blind cane and slammed the door shut as he left. I collapsed heavily to the floor. Warm blood continuously spilled from my nose and lips, quickly pooling around me. Outside the window, there was a sudden bang, bright as day. In a haze of agonizing pain, the words “Princess Nicole” illuminated my utterly pathetic state. My eyes glazed over as I watched. So beautiful. My phone vibrated madly. My bank account balance plummeted from $40,000 to zero. I laughed, a shaky, hysterical laugh. Asher was punishing me in the cruelest way possible. But he didn’t know that money was always meant for him. I had foolishly fantasized. How touched he would be when he received this inheritance. But in the end, all my desperate efforts were just part of a grand romantic gesture he made for someone else. My phone suddenly rang. I instinctively answered it. But then, abruptly, a woman’s intimate moans came from the other end. “I love you.” I heard Asher’s voice. Those words he had never spoken to me. I listened to every second. Let each sound carve into me. But there was no pain left to feel, only a brittle, weightless calm. Asher didn’t return for the next few days. But his “client’s” Instagram did. Feed after feed of desert climbs, skydiving over canyons. So, calluses on his hands weren’t from massaging after all. Everything that had touched me was a lie. Nicole’s hands were tightly clasped with his, his name tattooed on her chest, her eyes full of sweet devotion. Asher only sent me a few cold, clipped voice messages. “Do you know you were wrong yet?” “Did you put on the necklace?” “Send me a picture.” I knew he was waiting for me to humbly admit my fault and beg him to come home, just like before. But I never would again. Just then, Dr. Vance called. “What’s the check-up date?” My gaze swept over the Vance family’s newly announced engagement date, and I instantly sobered. “December 28th. Let’s make it that day.” But on the morning of that day, Asher appeared at my door, looking awkward. “Come with me somewhere.” At the charity gala, elegantly dressed people mingled, and glasses clinked. Only we wore faded, worn-out clothes. He seemed oblivious, gently coaxing me. “Hailey, these are all friends from the disability assistance association. You’re pregnant and it’s hard work, so I applied for a donation.” Even through his dark glasses, I could see the expectation in his eyes. He was waiting for me to react as I always had. My eyes red, throwing myself into his arms, saying, “You’re so good.” But I merely gave a faint “Mm.” Asher paused. Nicole intimately linked her arm through mine. “Hailey, you are elegant, you’re even beautiful pregnant… but your outfit is a bit shabby.” Just as I was about to pull away, Asher casually interjected, mediating. “Hailey, the neighbors said you dress really tacky and low-class. Nicole has good taste; why don’t you go change?”
Someone nearby snickered. “Hailey, you’re not married yet, are you? Maybe if you dressed up a bit, a man would marry you! When you collect the donation, remember to say you’re a single mother-to-be!” Their words cut deep, each one a slap across my face. But Asher’s silence was louder than any slap. Nicole yanked me into the dressing room, casually pointing to a dress. “This one’s reserved especially for you, Hailey, two thousand nine hundred. You’re not trying to freeload, are you?” Under her malicious torment. I slowly pulled out a wad of small bills, tens, fifties, barely enough to make up the amount. Nicole gasped dramatically, “You didn’t actually smash your piggy bank, did you?” I calmly nodded. “I did.” Asher’s face instantly changed. That piggy bank was something we bought when we first got together. I told him that once we saved enough money, I’d take him to Switzerland to treat his eyes. He paused then, a soft laugh escaping him. “When I can see, I’ll take you to the Alps to see your favorite snow.” At the time, I smiled, saying nothing. Because I knew my life wouldn’t last until that day. I just wanted Asher to regain his sight and watch our child grow up with his own eyes. But now, only disappointment and lies remained. Asher tightly gripped my hand, his voice hoarse. “We’re not going to see the snow mountains anymore?” I laughed casually. “No, I don’t like snow anymore… This winter, it’s just too cold.” Asher’s expression grew darker. “Hailey, you’re not comfortable. I’ll take you to change.” Asher glanced at Nicole, then confidently released my hand. Watching their silent, synchronized interaction, I finally understood. That was the impassable divide between us. As I was changing into the gown, Nicole’s voice grew chilling. “Were the fireworks pretty?” “It was just a game for my amusement, but you actually went and got pregnant, clinging to my man.” “Do you know how disgusted Asher is by you? He said he pretended to be blind because he couldn’t stand the sight of your torn underwear; it made him sick.” Seeing my calm expression, a flicker of surprise crossed her eyes. Then she sneered, wiggling the tip of her shoe. “The necklace you gave him? It wasn’t thrown away. It’s stuck to the bottom of my shoe.” “Are all you people from the gutter so pathetic? The second you farmer father heard ‘charity,’ he came crawling. So embarrassing.” My mind went numb. My father had lived with dignity. How dare she insult him so! By the time I reacted, my hand was already gripping her collar. “Give me back the necklace… Apologize to my dad!” She let out a sharp, theatrical cry. Then, with a vicious smile, she swung the entire cash box into my chest. A searing pain erupted from my chest. I fell backward, banknotes fluttering like snow. The door burst open, and gasps of alarm filled the room. I realized I was half-naked, exposed to countless malicious eyes. The room erupted in mocking laughter. “She’s all bones. Probably lies there like a dead fish.” Asher’s hand shot out, then froze in mid-air. “Hailey? What happened?” He He began groping blindly, his voice rising in panic. I laughed, a bitter, desperate sound, tears streaming down my face. I was laughing at his performance. He clung to his blind man’s costume so fiercely, he let my dignity be torn to shreds at his feet. Nicole offered a fake apology. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry, I forgot to lock the door.” Before her words faded, her foot hooked under the chain of my mother’s necklace and kicked it into the fire. That necklace was my mother’s dying gift. Now it vanished into ash. Something in me detonated. I lunged at her like a mad woman. But just then, the door crashed open. A hunched figure stumbled into the chaos.
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