The Blind Man in My Attic

The day my husband, Brian, brought his depressed first love, Kelly, into our home to take care of her, I let out a long, quiet sigh of relief.

He looked at my perfectly calm face and spoke in a freezing tone. Kellys health is fragile. She needs the master bedroom. It gets the most natural sunlight.

I nodded immediately and hauled all my belongings into the guest room.

Seeing my compliance, he added, "Her stomach is extremely sensitive. She can only stomach bland, home-cooked meals."

I immediately fired our private chef, who specialized in spicy Cajun cuisine, and personally went to the kitchen to cook a table full of plain porridge and light, organic vegetables.

When Kelly clutched her chest in pain, I ran out to buy her medication faster than Brian ever could.

I was not doing this because I was a desperate pushover trying to win my husband back.

I was doing this because, just yesterday, I had secretly moved a completely blind Aaron Harrington into our house.

Aaron was the untouchable fantasy of my youth, the secret crush I had buried deep in my heart for a decade.

But the moment Brian laid eyes on him, my normally cold and composed husband completely lost his mind.

With bloodshot eyes, he practically begged me, "Harper, I am the one you love the most. I forbid you from looking at him!"

...

On the day of our belated wedding ceremony, Kelly staged a highly publicized medical emergency, intentionally overdosing on a dangerous cocktail of prescription pills.

Without a second thought, Brian abandoned me at the altar, sprinting to Kelly's apartment and carrying her to the hospital.

I was left completely alone at the venue. I had to swallow my absolute humiliation, entertain our friends and family, deal with the aggressive media, and finish the reception by myself.

After finally sending the last guest home, I received a phone call from Brian.

"Kelly needs to be admitted. I cannot leave her side right now. Come to the hospital and pay the bill."

I couldn't even describe what I was feeling.

I felt like I should be furious, screaming, entirely hysterical.

But in reality, I just calmly replied, "Okay."

Because this exact scenario had played out far too many times.

Kelly came back into the picture the exact day after Brian and I signed our marriage certificate.

The moment she saw our bright red legal documents, she had a total psychological breakdown and collapsed in her bathroom.

Brian rushed her to the ER and stayed by her bedside all night.

The next morning, with dark, exhausted circles under his eyes, he looked at me and said, "Harper, we are canceling the wedding ceremony. Kelly cannot handle the stimulation right now."

"But..."

Before the words could even leave my mouth, Brian cut me off.

"Harper, this is a human life we are talking about. Stop being so selfish."

His voice was terrifyingly heavy, instantly suffocating every single ounce of anticipation I had for our wedding.

We had picked out the dress together. We toured the venues. We chose the rings. We had everything ready.

And because of one woman, it all evaporated into thin air.

I wasn't even allowed to argue. I wasn't allowed to feel wronged.

I could only give a dry, hollow response. "Okay."

Because nothing was more important than a human life, right?

From that day forward, our marriage became a crowded room of three.

She was there on our honeymoon.

She was there on Valentine's Day.

She was there on our anniversary.

And by now, I was completely numb to it.

I took off my wedding dress, drove to the hospital in complete silence, and paid her medical bills.

As I was walking out of the hospital entrance, a white mobility cane suddenly struck the back of my calf.

"I am so sorry," a panicked, entirely lost voice stammered.

I turned around in surprise. "Aaron? What are you doing here?"

Hearing my voice, Aaron froze entirely. His first instinct was to hide, but he completely forgot he could not see. His foot missed the edge of the step, and he tumbled violently down the concrete stairs.

My heart leaped into my throat. I sprinted down the steps.

"Aaron! Are you okay?"

I tried to help him up, but he thrashed against my grip desperately.

I couldn't help but lose my temper. "Aaron Harrington, why are you throwing a billionaire temper tantrum right now? Do you have any idea that you are bleeding?"

I don't know which word triggered him, but Aaron suddenly went rigid, his broad shoulders trembling violently.

I leaned in to check his injuries.

But the second I got close, his hoarse, tear-choked voice cracked through the air. "Don't look at me!"

It was only then that I realized how drastically different this Aaron was from the boy I remembered.

He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, groomed from birth to inherit the massive Harrington Industries empire. Whatever he wanted, he got the absolute best. Every move he made used to radiate the effortless arrogance of the ultra-wealthy.

Now, he was wearing a cheap, faded t-shirt, clutching a dented white cane, his clothes covered in dirt and his flawlessly sculpted face smeared with grime.

I pressed my lips together and swallowed my questions. I practically carried him to a doctor, got his cuts bandaged, picked up his eye medication, and shoved him into the passenger seat of my car.

"Where do you live now?" I asked.

Aaron did not answer.

After an agonizing silence, he finally muttered, "The Southside Projects."

The Southside Projects was the most dangerous, run-down slum in the city.

It was a place the old Aaron Harrington wouldn't have even glanced at from a helicopter.

I paused for a second before slowly putting the car in drive.

When I finally stepped into the place he called home, I couldn't believe my eyes.

A rotting wooden door, walls stained black with cooking grease, and a bathroom that smelled violently of raw sewage.

There was almost zero furniture in the entire unit. Just a brutal wooden slab for a bed, covered by a paper-thin sheet.

Aaron tapped his way inside with his cane. He was being incredibly careful, yet his shin still slammed brutally into the corner of the bed frame. He let out a muffled groan.

I couldn't take it a second longer. I stepped forward, grabbed his wrist, and dragged him toward the door. "Aaron, you are not staying in this dump. You are coming home with me."

Taking Aaron home was an act of pure impulse.

I didn't regret it, but it definitely created a massive logistical nightmare.

I had no idea how I was going to explain him to Brian.

Maybe my moral compass was just a bit too rigid, but I firmly believed that while I was still legally married, I shouldn't be moving another man into the house I shared with my husband.

But throwing Aaron back into that slum was absolutely out of the question.

After racking my brain, I decided to hide Aaron in our spacious attic.

He sat on the freshly made bed, clutching his white cane tightly. His jaw was set in a stubborn line, but the corners of his eyes were flushed red.

He turned his sightless eyes toward me and whispered, "Harper, am I completely pathetic to look at right now?"

I had no idea how to comfort a fallen billionaire. I just abruptly changed the subject.

"I am going to grab you some food!"

Aaron did not say a word. He just sat in silence, listening to my fading footsteps.

I did not sleep a single wink that night.

The next morning, when Brian finally returned, I was ready to lay all my cards on the table.

But before I could even open my mouth, I saw Kelly standing right behind him.

"Harper, Kelly is moving in with us starting today."

Brian offered zero explanation. It was a cold, emotionless command.

Instead of fighting, I let out a massive sigh of relief. A genuine smile even touched my lips as I nodded. "Okay."

Seeing my total lack of resistance, Brian furrowed his brows.

After all, just last month, I had torn the house apart screaming at him over Kelly.

Before that fight, I hadn't stayed quiet out of the goodness of my heart. I stayed quiet because Brian constantly gaslit me, swearing up and down that Kelly was just like a little sister to him and he couldn't just abandon her.

That was until last month, when I went to help his mother pack for a move and accidentally stumbled across his old high school diary.

That was when I learned the truth. Kelly was his untouchable fantasy, his perfect white moonlight.

When her family went bankrupt and she came crawling back from overseas, his fantasy suddenly became attainable.

The only thing standing in their way was me.

Three years of suffocating resentment violently erupted. I took the diary and confronted Brian, demanding answers. But he just looked at me with cold, absolute disgust.

"Harper, why do you get such a sick thrill out of invading other people's privacy?"

All the blood drained from my face.

I don't remember what happened after that.

When I finally woke up, I was lying in a sterile hospital bed, the sharp stench of bleach burning my nose.

A nurse noticed my blank stare and offered a pitying smile. "You are still young. You can always have another baby. Please try not to grieve too hard."

That was the exact moment I realized a tiny, quiet life inside of me had slipped away.

And my husband was nowhere to be found.

By the time he finally finished consoling Kelly and returned to the hospital, I had already checked myself out and gone home alone.

Brian stormed into our bedroom, looking at my packed suitcase with intense irritation. "Harper, what kind of tantrum is this? Checking out of the hospital when you haven't even recovered? Do you think you're invincible just because you're young?"

He didn't even get to finish his sentence before I cut him off. "Brian, I want a divorce."

Brian's face went totally blank for a second. Then a flash of sheer panic crossed his eyes, before twisting into an ugly sneer.

"Harper, Kelly was having a mental crisis. I was just following the doctor's orders to stay by her side. Can you stop being so insanely petty? Look at the bigger picture. You look like a bitter, hysterical housewife right now!"

I was far too exhausted to argue with him.

I dropped the signed divorce papers onto the coffee table, grabbed my suitcase, and walked out the front door without granting him a single backward glance.

That was when Brian truly panicked.

For the next entire month, he completely abandoned Kelly. He chased me relentlessly, doing everything in his power to drag me back.

He treated me like a queen during those weeks.

It was exactly like how he treated me when we first started dating.

But I truly, deeply wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

Three nights ago, he knocked on my hotel room door again.

I was fully prepared to say the most ruthless things imaginable to get him out of my life forever.

But when I yanked the door open, I found Brian down on one knee.

He was holding a massive bouquet of flowers and the exact diamond ring I had begged for three years ago. With red, tear-filled eyes, he pleaded, "Harper, let me give you the wedding you deserve."

My mind instantly flashed back to the very first time he proposed.

He was on one knee back then too, his eyes overflowing with total devotion, swearing to protect my happiness forever.

I figured I could give him one last chance.

I let him slide the ring onto my finger, and he held me, crying tears of actual joy.

He promised me, "Harper, I am going to throw you the most romantic wedding this city has ever seen."

Brian did not lie.

He dropped over a million dollars transforming a luxury hotel ballroom into a breathtaking sea of lavender.

The entire venue looked like a dream.

But my heart felt absolutely nothing.

I hated lavender. I loved the most clich, blood-red roses.

The person who loved lavender was Kelly.

So when Brian sprinted out of the venue because Kelly had a "crisis," my expression didn't even flinch.

It made perfect sense.

If he had actually ignored Kelly to marry me, that would have been out of character.

So now, moving Kelly into our house was entirely expected.

Seeing how happily I agreed, a bizarre, suffocating frustration twisted in Brian's chest.

His expression turned icy, and he snapped like he was trying to provoke me. "Her health is fragile. She needs the master bedroom with the natural sunlight."

A flash of absolute triumph crossed the face of the woman standing behind him, but Kelly expertly masked it a second later, replacing it with a fragile, weeping expression.

"Brian, we can't do that. I could never take Harper's room. A tiny maid's quarters or the basement is more than enough for me..."

As she spoke, she peeked at Brian through her eyelashes, waiting for his reaction.

Normally, whenever she pulled this routine, Brian would viciously scold me for being unaccommodating and literally force my belongings into her hands.

But this time, she didn't get to hear Brian's defense.

I beat him to the punch and nodded brightly. "Okay."

Without missing a beat, I marched into the master bedroom and hauled every last piece of my existence into the guest room down the hall.

Brian's face looked like a brewing thunderstorm.

Once I finished moving, I needed to talk to Brian about Aaron.

I politely knocked on the master bedroom door. "Can I come in?"

I waited in silence for a long time. No answer.

Just as I turned to leave, the door violently swung open. Brian stood there, his jaw clenched, his eyes blazing with fury.

Normally, seeing him this angry would make me drop everything to coddle his ego.

But this time, I just hesitated and said, "Brian, there is something I need to tell you..."

I didn't get to finish.

"Harper, Kelly is starving. Her stomach is sensitive, so she can only eat bland, organic home-cooked meals."

He slammed the door right in my face.

I rubbed my nose, sighed, and went downstairs to find our live-in chef.

I wired her a massive bonus and told her to take a paid month off.

Brian was the one who hired her because he loved her spicy Southern cooking, but now the house had Kelly and Aaron, two patients who couldn't handle a single drop of hot sauce.

After sending the chef away, I tied on an apron and cooked an entire spread of food myself.

When we finally sat down at the dining table, Brian's face was still pitch black.

He didn't say a word and barely touched his food. Clearly, it wasn't up to his standard.

I didn't want to trigger another fight, but the Aaron situation could not stay hidden forever. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Brian, I have a friend who recently ran into some serious trouble, and right now..."

Denied again.

Kelly suddenly began gasping for air, her face turning a sickly white as she collapsed against Brian's chest.

"Brian, my heart hurts so much... I think I'm having a severe allergic reaction..."

Before Kelly even finished her performance, I shot out of my chair and sprinted out the front door.

A torrential downpour was raging outside. I didn't even grab an umbrella. I ran full speed to the pharmacy outside our gated community and bought every anti-allergy and emergency heart medication they had.

I used to think Kelly was just faking it, but yesterday the doctor told me Aaron's blindness was entirely induced by severe psychological trauma.

Mental illness could manifest in terrifying physical ways. They really were that sick!

By the time I ran back into the house, I was drenched to the bone, shivering violently.

Brian looked at my pathetic, soaking wet state, and his rage finally boiled over.

"Harper, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"How many times do I have to explain this?! Kelly and I are completely innocent! There is nothing going on between us!"

"She is sick! I can't just leave her to die!"

I opened my mouth, desperate to explain why I actually ran out, but the words caught in my throat. I just stood there in silence.

Brian grew even more furious.

He gripped Kelly's hand tightly, his voice dropping to absolute zero.

"Harper, pack your things and get out of this house."

The second those words left his mouth, a rhythmic tapping echoed from the top of the stairs.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A white cane hitting the hardwood floors. Slow. Hesitant.

Then, Aaron's voice drifted down. "Harper... you haven't come up to the attic all day. Did you decide to throw me away too?"

Brian whipped his head up. The moment he recognized Aaron, his pupils shrank to the size of pinpricks.