Olivia
He was home. I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Just lay there, staring at the bedside lamp while my mind spun in circles. Same questions. Same ache. Same silence. The bedroom door creaked. The mattress dipped. Warmth pressed against my back. His body was molding into mine like nothing had changed. But everything had. His breath brushed my shoulder, warm and familiar. His arm slid around my waist, tugging me close with that soft, careful grip. The one he used when he knew he was guilty. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, lips barely grazing my temple. “Work ran late. I didn’t mean to miss our anniversary.” Liar. I knew the second his scent hit me. His usual cologne was there. It was crisp and clean but underneath, I smelled something sharp. Hospital air. Bintu Hospital. My fingers curled into the sheets. Cold metal slid over my wrist. A bracelet. Diamonds, bright and blinding, wrapped in gold. Expensive. Beautiful. Another sorry gift. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered. My voice didn’t even sound like mine. He smiled against my skin. “Bought it in Paris last week. Just for you my sweet Olivia” I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to. Maybe I was paranoid. Maybe Elena was nothing. Maybe love really could survive silence and secrets. So I reached for him. Let him kiss me. Let him lie to me with his hands. But then his fingers brushed my face, and something soft and silk slipped over my eyes. Darkness swallowed me whole. My heart jumped to my throat. Every nerve lit up, my body tense, senses sharp. I knew this game. Blindfolds. Teasing. Touch. But this wasn’t the same. There was no playful heat this time. Only cold. His touch felt too careful. Too controlled. Like he was distracting me. He didn’t want me to see. He didn’t want me to think. This wasn’t about our anniversary. This was about erasing something. And right then, in the dark, I knew. Leonard wasn’t just hiding a mistake. He was hiding everything. ** The knock at the door came sharp and fast, way too early for visitors. When I opened it, my stomach dropped. Patricia. My stepmother. She always looked flawless like she had been born in designer clothes and perfected the art of cold smiles. I hated that smile. Because Patricia never showed up unless she wanted something. And today was no different. She swept past me without waiting for an invite, heels clicking against the floor like she owned the place. She gave the living room a quick scan, eyes landing on my bracelet, Leonard's anniversary gift and her smile sharpened. “It must be nice,” she said, her voice sugar-sweet, “living in luxury while your father drowns in debt.” My jaw clenched. “What do you want, Patricia?” Her eyes glittered. “Your father needs help, Olivia. Debt collectors are breathing down his neck. He’s about to lose everything.” Guilt scraped at my chest, but I pushed it down. I knew about my father’s gambling. I knew he dug his own grave. And Patricia didn’t care about saving him — she cared about saving herself. If he sank, so did she. “I can’t help,” I said, my voice flat. “And even if I could, Leonard…” “Oh, please.” She cut me off with a laugh that made my skin crawl. “Don’t act innocent. You’re his wife. You could ask him for anything.” There was something in her voice, something almost amused, like she knew something I didn’t. And I hated that. Her gaze dropped to my bracelet again. “He’s already so generous.” I folded my arms. “Why are you really here?” Patricia tilted her head, fake sympathy plastered across her face. “You know, for someone who’s been given so much, you’re not very grateful.” I frowned. “What are you talking about?” Her smile sharpened into something cruel. “If your father hadn’t spent a fortune on your eye transplant, maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess.” My heart stumbled. My throat went dry. “What—what do you mean?” She gave an exaggerated sigh, like I was slow. “Did you ever ask where they came from?” The silence stretched. My pulse pounded in my ears. “Where did it come from?” “Your eyes.” I couldn’t breathe. Patricia took her time, dragging out the moment before she said it. “They belonged to a girl named Elena.” The name crashed into me like a wrecking ball. “She was in an accident. Left in a vegetative state. Her parents needed money, so they sold her corneas. Your father paid a fortune to give you those eyes.” My stomach flipped, bile rising in my throat. Elena. “Huh? What did you just say stepmother” “Are you now deaf Olivia? I said your eyes came from a girl called Elena! I have heard that name so much that now I'm scared. Was it the same girl Leonard lied about? Were they the same people or was it just a coincidence? Patricia leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. “Elena lost everything. And you? You walked through life wearing her eyes like a prize.” The air thickened. My hands curled into fists so tight, my nails bit into my palms. “Get out,” I said through clenched teeth. Patricia blinked, pretending to be shocked. “Excuse me?” “I said, GET OUT.” Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction. This was what she came for to watch me break. But I didn’t give her the satisfaction of crying. Not in front of her. She tossed her hair back and sauntered to the door, pausing just long enough to throw one last parting shot over her shoulder. “You’ll regret this, Olivia. You’ll wish you listened before it’s too late.” The door slammed behind her.Olivia I couldn’t sleep. Patricia’s words had lodged themselves in my mind, sharp and relentless. Elena was the girl who sold her eyes. I sat in the dim light from the bedside lamp, my fingers curling around the edge of my phone. The screen was warm against my palm, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. If I did, I would make it real. If I did, I would chase a truth I might not survive. But the doubt was suffocating. I needed the truth. I scrolled through my contacts, the steady thrum of my pulse in my ears as I landed on the number I hadn’t dialed in years. Dr. Samuel Greene. The surgeon who had given me my sight. Without thinking, I pressed the call. The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Then… A click. “Dr. Greene speaking.” I swallowed, trying to steady my voice. “Dr. Greene, it’s Olivia. Olivia Crawford.” A pause. A breath. Then, wariness. “Olivia. It’s been a long time. What can I do for you?” “I need information.” There was a short silence then “About?”
My eyes fluttered open, squinting hard against the harsh glare of the overhead lights. The brightness stabbed through my vision, forcing me to blink several times before the room slowly came into focus. I was still in the hospital. The memory of the fall slammed into me the moment I shifted, a dull ache blooming across my lower back as I pushed myself up against the headboard. The sheets crinkled under my palms just as the door swung open. A man in a white coat stepped in, the stethoscope around his neck catching the light. His expression shifted into relief the second he saw me awake. “Oh, thank goodness, madam. You’re finally conscious.” He crossed the room briskly, placing a firm hand on my forehead, his fingers cool against my skin. Without a word, he flicked a penlight across my eyes, watching closely as my pupils adjusted. Then, he turned to check the monitors beside my bed, making quick notes on the chart clipped to the foot of it. “How are you feeling?” His voic
The second I stepped into the house, I barely had time to take off my shoes before one of the maids came rushing toward me, her slippers slapping against the marble floor. Her hands were wrapped tightly around a small glass bottle, covered in silk cloth like it was some ancient treasure.“Madam!” she called, her voice breathless from hurrying.I turned around, already exhausted, but her nervous face made me pause. “What is it?”She held the bottle out, eyes darting around like someone might be watching. “Madam-in-law brought this for you some hours ago. She said you must take five shots of it.”I froze, staring at her like she’d grown a second head. “Five shots?” My voice shot up, loud enough to make her flinch. “What does she think I am, a barrel that needs filling? Does she want to kill me?”The maid’s eyes widened, but I wasn’t done. I snatched the bottle from her hands, holding it up to the light. The liquid inside was thick, dark, almost muddy. Just looking at it made my stomac
LeonardI sat there, staring at Olivia’s half-empty plate, my appetite gone. She barely spoke to me all through dinner. Every answer was short, like she couldn’t be bothered. And that smil: that fake, too-sweet smile when she called me my dear husband, it wasn’t love. It was a warning.Something was wrong.I wasn’t blind. Olivia had been distant for days, but this felt different. Colder. Like she had already made up her mind about something and I wasn’t even part of the conversation. I waved a hand, calling over one of the housemaids. “Come here.”She hurried over, hands folded in front of her.“Did anything happen today while I was gone?”“No, sir,” she said quickly.“Did my mother come by?”“Yes, sir. She only sent a tonic for Madam.”Of course. My mother and her damn tonics.“And she didn’t say anything to Olivia?”“No, sir. She just gave the tonic and left.”“Anyone else visit?”“No one, sir.”I let out a slow breath, dismissing her with a nod. But the uneasy knot in my chest d
The sun was already up, but I was still in bed, face buried in the pillow, trying to block out the daylight. My stomach flipped again, and I swallowed down the nausea for the third time that morning. Pregnancy regurgitation, some fancy words for a miserable start to the day.The door creaked open. I didn’t turn around. I didn’t need to. Leonard’s footsteps were too familiar after all these years.“You’re still in bed?” His voice was somewhere between confused and irritated. “Are you okay?”“Just tired.”That was the truth but only the smallest piece of it. The deeper truth was that I didn’t want to get up because getting up meant facing him, facing this life we were barely holding together. I didn’t want to look at him and wonder which version of Leonard I’d get today, the distant stranger or the man who still tried, just barely, to care.His shadow fell over me as he stood at the edge of the bed. His hand brushed my forehead, testing for a fever like I was a child. I wanted to pull
The house felt warmer than usual, filled with the soft scents of garlic, rosemary, and caramelizing onions. I stood at the counter, chopping vegetables with more focus than I’d had in weeks. Tonight mattered.I had spent the entire day preparing. Grocery shopping in the morning, recipe hunting in the afternoon, and now after three failed attempts at a sauce I could never get right I was finally ready.Tonight wasn’t just dinner. Tonight was my moment.I was going to tell Leonard about the baby.For a few fleeting hours, I let myself believe that this night could fix everything. That a perfect meal, some soft music, and the right words could turn us back into the couple we used to be. I could see it in my mind, the way his face would light up when I told him. The way he’d pull me into his arms, his hands cradling my stomach, whispering promises about the future we’d share.Hope was dangerous, but tonight, I let it live.The table was already set, candles lit, wine chilling, and soft
OliviaThe moment I opened the door, I felt it. That warmth. That flicker of something familiar, something whole, something I had spent days convincing myself was still real.Leonard stood there, his tie loosened, his hair slightly disheveled like he’d run his hands through it one too many times. His sharp gaze swept over me, taking in the dress I had carefully chosen, the soft candlelight flickering behind me, the faint scent of rosemary and butter drifting from the kitchen.For a second, I thought I saw something in his expression. Something tender. Something real.His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words.And then, he smiled.A real, genuine smile.It was small, barely there, but it made my breath hitch.“You look beautiful.”My heart clenched. He hadn’t said that in a long time.I swallowed past the lump in my throat, forcing myself to keep breathing. “Dinner’s ready.” My voice wavered, but I smiled. If I acted normal, maybe ton
(Leonard’s POV)The office felt wrong the second I stepped inside. Maybe it was me. Or maybe it was the sharp look Lincoln gave me the moment I walked into the executive lounge like he’d been waiting all day just to rip into me.“Well, look who finally dragged his ass back to work.” Lincoln was sprawled across the couch, tie loose, coffee in one hand, phone in the other. “What’s the excuse this time? Let me guess: holding Elena’s hand again?”“Shut up,” I muttered, dropping my briefcase onto the table. “I was with Olivia.”Lincoln’s brows shot up. “No shit?”“She wasn’t feeling well.”Lincoln snorted. “So the queen needed her loyal servant for once.”I ignored him. I was too tired for his shit, but of course, that never stopped him.“Elena’s fine now,” I added quickly, needing to say it out loud. “She’s moving into the lakeside villa soon. I set it all up for her.”Lincoln whistled low. “Jesus Christ, Leonard. You really set yourself up for a death wish, huh?”I exhaled. “Meaning?”“
Elena POVI ran my fingers once more across the front of my blouse. Smoothed the fabric. Fixed my posture.No more tears.No more shaking.No more blurred reflection staring back at me like some forgotten ghost.I had cried what needed to be cried.Now it was time to perform.I picked up my cane slowly, letting the tip click softly against the tile floor. My other hand adjusted the collar of my blouse and tucked a strand of damp hair behind my ear. Then I turned toward the door. My shoulders were relaxed. My lips pulled into the softest, most fragile smile.I stepped into the hallway.And every tap of my cane was intentional.Measured.Innocent.Tap. Pause. Tap. Pause.I imagined them hearing me approach—Leonard straightening in his chair, the doctor glancing away from their lie-laced conversation.Let them hear me coming.Let them adjust their faces before I arrived.The doctor’s voice trailed off mid-sentence. Leonard cleared his throat.Good.I reached the doorway, pausing just be
Elena’s POVThe bathroom lights were too bright.Everything in here was too bright, too clean, too white, too… quiet. I stood in front of the mirror, gripping the edges of the porcelain sink like it could hold me together. My breath fogged the glass faintly, but I couldn’t even see my reflection.Just vague shapes. Blurs.Shadows.I leaned in, squinting hard, searching for the outline of my face, the curve of my lips, the pink around my tear-swollen eyes. But there was nothing.Just a smudge of a girl who used to exist.“Come on,” I whispered to myself, breath trembling. “Come on. Don’t fall apart.”But I already had.My mascara was everywhere. My blouse was wrinkled and damp near the collar. My cane rested against the wall, forgotten for a moment as I pressed both hands to my stomach and tried to calm the burning ache that had bloomed inside me like wildfire.You promised me.You said it would be temporary. You said she was just a substitute.Didn’t you?Didn’t you?My mind kept rep
Leonard’s POVThe doctor sighed, folding his hands in front of him. “We’re doing what we can to slow the progression. We’re monitoring the damage carefully.”“Have you found a donor?” she asked. Her voice cracked. “For Olivia, I mean. You said once she gets a match, Leonard would reverse the transplant, and I could…”Her voice broke completely.“I could see again.”She was crying now. Not the quiet kind.The ugly, painful, shoulder-shaking kind. Her face crumpled, mouth twisting as sobs ripped from her throat uncontrollably.Leonard, do something.I reached for her hand. She pulled it away.“Elena, please….”“No!” she cried, her whole body curling forward as she pressed both palms against her face. “This isn’t fair! I gave them to her. I gave them. You promised!”She wasn’t just crying anymore.She was breaking.She collapsed forward in her chair, a sob ripping from her chest like it had been trapped inside her lungs for years. Not a single tear, an avalanche. Her shoulders buckled.
Leonard’s POVI could still see her.Olivia.The way she looked at me, eyes glistening, lips quivering, her whole body trembling like she was barely holding herself together.Like if I looked too hard, she’d crack and fall to pieces at my feet.That look would haunt me for the rest of my life.And yet here I was, driving Elena to her hospital appointment, while Olivia stood in that house, bleeding silently.Beside me, Elena sat like ice.Perfect. Poised. Fragile.Her white blouse was buttoned to the collar. Her cane rested gently against the console. And her face? Calm. Like she hadn’t just been accused of gutting the woman I loved with her words.But I couldn’t leave it alone.Not with the way Olivia had looked at me. Like I’d just let her drown.My hand tightened on the steering wheel, thumb flexing over the leather. The silence pressed against my ears.“Elena,” I said.She turned her head slightly, lashes fluttering as if I’d just roused her from thought. “Hmm?”I swallowed the lum
Olivia’s POV “He’s giving me my eyes back. From you.” These words were consuming my thoughts as I pressed the heel of my hand against my chest like I could stop the ache there. Like pressure might make it go away. I heard their voices in the foyer. Elena’s light and delicate. Leonard’s deep and warm. I wanted to scream. Rip something off the wall. Shake him. Make him see what I’d just been through. What she just did. Instead, I walked forward like I was fine. Like I wasn’t about to come apart at the seams. Elena sat by the door, legs crossed neatly, her cane resting gently against the bench. She looked angelic. Calm. Dressed in soft blues and whites like she was heading to heaven. Her hands were folded in her lap. Like she hadn’t spit poison into my soul less than thirty minutes ago. Leonard stood near the front door, fixing the collar of his jacket. He looked up when he saw me. “Hey.” He smiled. “Everything okay?” No. I nodded. Too fast. My voice was thin. “Yeah. Just tire
Olivia’s POV I was just trying to surprise him. Leonard had left early that morning, quiet, soft, like he didn’t want to wake me. He kissed my cheek gently, lingering just long enough to make me believe the moment meant something. Then he was gone, leaving behind the scent of his cologne. So I decided I’d make him lunch. His favorite, homemade pasta with sun-dried tomatoes, garlic, and cream. Something warm. Something that said, I’m here. I’m yours. We’re okay. I was humming to myself as I padded barefoot down the hallway, still in my robe, the fabric brushing my legs. My phone sat in my pocket. One hand cradled my abdomen without thinking. It had become second nature. A quiet, instinctive gesture. Protective. I turned the corner toward the pantry, already thinking about the spices. And stopped. She was there. Elena. Standing just outside the guest room, her cane resting lightly against the floor. Perfectly still. Like a statue. Like she’d been waiting. Her head turned sl
Olivia’s POVThe sheets still clung to my skin, warm and tangled around my legs like his touch hadn’t left me. My breath had evened out, but my heart hadn’t slowed. It still beat with the rhythm of what we’d just done… of him… of us.“Jesus,” I whispered, blinking up at the ceiling. “I love that man.”The words slipped out before I could catch them, but they didn’t scare me. Not this time.Because for once… it didn’t feel like I was loving someone who had forgotten me.He remembered.“I didn’t think I’d ever get this moment,” I whispered, blinking slowly as I stared at nothing. “I didn’t think he’d come back to me. That we’d ever be this close again.”My voice trembled.“I hated him, you know,” I murmured. “God, I hated him so much for what he did… for how he made me feel like I was nothing. Like I was just a substitute. An accident he regretted.”I pressed my hand over my heart, breathing through the sting in my throat.“But I still loved him. Even when I didn’t want to. Even when it
Leonard’s POVShe had turned to leave, her cane tapping slowly toward the hall, when she suddenly stopped. Her back stiffened, and her head turned slightly in my direction.Her voice was quiet. Almost broken.But before I go…” Elena said, her back still turned, her fingers clenching around her cane. “I’d like to ask you something.”I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. My heart was already pounding like a warning drum in my chest.She turned slightly, just enough to tilt her pale, sightless face toward me. Her brows were tight. Her lips quivered.“When am I getting my eyes back from Olivia?”Silence collapsed over the room. And for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.She wasn’t crying. Not yet. But there was something far worse behind her voice, exhaustion. That deep, soul-suffocating kind that makes your bones feel like they’ve aged decades.“Elena…” My throat tightened around her name.“I’m not trying to be cruel,” she said, her voice trembling like a cracked violin string. “I’m not trying to
Leonard’s Point of View. The second time I came inside my wife that morning left me a little too smug for my own good. Olivia’s moans were still etched into my memory, her scent lingering on my skin. I hadn’t planned on going another round, but the way she’d looked at me after mocking Elena? I couldn’t help myself. But now I had to deal with her. I dragged a hand through my hair, buttoning the top of my shirt as I walked into the living room, already dreading the conversation. Elena sat stiffly on the edge of the couch, her cane resting against her leg, her fingers clenched so tight in her lap they’d gone pale. “Elena.” “I didn’t like what you did. What you did this morning was very disrespectful Elena and that I would not take from you” She flinched. “You didn’t knock. You just barged into the room..my bedroom, as if you belonged there. As if Olivia wasn’t right beside me in my bed.” I took a step forward, my tone low and hard. “You came in uninvited, asking for me, demand