He Stole My Eyes for His Mistress
Language: en
Harrison Bennett married me out of sheer obligation. For three years, he treated me like the rarest porcelain, promising over and over that he would find a donor match for my corneas. And because I was blind, he never bothered to guard his words around me. The muffled cadence of his voice drifted from the half-open door of his study, accompanied by Arthur, his personal assistant: "Mr. Bennett, we secured a matching donor cornea over a month ago. Do you still not intend to schedule the transplant for Mrs. Bennett?" Arthur’s words struck me like a physical blow. Harrison had found a match…