He Kissed His First Love in Front of My BLIND Eyes-Until I Watched Him Burn Chapter 01

He Kissed His First Love in Front of My BLIND Eyes-Until I Watched Him Burn Chapter 01

I’m blind. Cameron Hawthorne is my only eyes.

He gave my seeing-eye dog to his first love as a plaything, then laughed at me, “It’s just a dumb animal. Why should it have to wait on another animal? Pathetic.”

I fumbled for the hem of his jacket, but he kicked me down the stairs. “No dog now. Now get back in that attic and act like the good little trophy wife I keep on a shelf.”

He doesn’t know my corneal transplant already worked.

Every day I pretend to stare into nothing while he flirts with his first love right in front of me, while he swaps my vitamins for sleeping pills.

“Cameron, is it morning yet?” I ask, my voice hollow.

He wraps his arm around Sierra and sneers, “You’re blind. What difference does morning make to you?”

Not until I disappear in that fire does he find the guide rope—the one I carved my final curse into.

***

The day they took Nugget, the rain came down hard.

Drops slammed against the attic window, crackling like they were mourning my dog.

“It’s just a dumb animal. Why should it have to wait on another animal? Pathetic.”

Cameron’s voice came out ice-cold, every word a nail driving into my flesh.

My Nugget—a gentle golden retriever—he ripped right out of my arms and shoved into Sierra Summers’ car.

She’s his first love.

Nugget let out this awful whine, paws scratching at the window, those dark eyes fixed on me like his life depended on it.

I couldn’t see, but I could hear. I could feel.

I reached out, trying to grab Cameron’s sleeve, begging him to give my dog back.

That dog was the only company Mom left me.

But the second my fingers brushed his expensive suit fabric, a sharp pain exploded in my stomach.

He kicked me. Hard. I flew backward like a rag doll and tumbled down the stairs from the second floor.

My forehead cracked against the edge of the bottom step. Warm liquid instantly smeared across my face.

“You’re blind. What difference does morning make to you?”

His voice came from above me, dripping with contempt.

I lay on the cold floor, blood mixing with dust under my cheek.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t yell.

I just slowly wiped the blood off with the back of my hand, then lifted my head and “looked” at him with my “blind” eyes.

He doesn’t know my corneal transplant already worked. Three months ago.

I can see.

I saw his handsome face—no pity whatsoever. I saw Sierra tucked against his chest behind him, grinning like a princess who’d won the war.

She mouthed at me, “Blind bitch. Serves you right.”

Cameron turned and walked away with her, their footsteps swallowed by the rain.

I pushed myself up off the floor, grabbed the banister, and climbed back to my attic, step by step.

Dark. Damp. Rank with mildew.

That was the cage Cameron built for me.

I went to the window and watched his red sports car vanish into the downpour.

I picked up the pill bottle on the table and shook out two tablets.

In the dim light, I saw clearly—the white vitamins had been swapped for pale yellow sleeping pills.

His thoughtful little ‘sweet dreams’—just for me. I dumped them into the toilet without changing my expression. Flushed.

Then I pulled open the bottom drawer of my desk. Inside, a small phone and a bank card.

The screen lit up, reflecting my calm face.

One unread message from an unsaved number, “Everything’s ready.”

I typed back a single word, “Wait.”