Blind Spots

My boyfriend went blind saving me, and I secretly started sleeping with his best friend.

All because I overheard him talking to that same friend!

Aren't you afraid your girlfriend will find out you're faking it?

She worships the ground I walk on. I'm using her guilt to string her along.

Later, when my boyfriend invited his friend over for dinner,

I was kissing that same friend in the kitchen.

"Your boyfriend is literally in the living room," he murmured against my lips.

I smiled. "So? He's blind."

Eventually, my boyfriend begged me, tears in his eyes. "We could make it work with three people. Just please, don't leave me."

...

Charles called just as Archer Shaw had me pinned against the kitchen wall, kissing me like he was starving.

I shoved at his chest a few times.

When he didn't budge, I bit down hard on his lower lip.

He finally pulled back, swiping my ringing phone off the counter.

He glanced at the screen. "...Your boyfriend. You wanna answer it?"

I hit accept.

"Claire? Charles's stomach ache is acting up again"

Charles's voice cut off his friend, Mike. "It's nothing. Claire's busy. Don't bother her with this."

Archer played with my fingers, his thumb tracing my knuckles in a way that sent shivers down my spine. I pulled my hand free, my thumb brushing the small cut on his lip where I'd bitten him.

My voice, however, dripped with concern. "You're my priority. Where are you? I'll come get you."

laughter erupted from the other end of the line.

"Damn, Charles! You really trained her well. Ice Queen Claire, totally wrapped around your finger now!"

Archer ended the call before I could reply.

"Busy?" he murmured, leaning in again, his breath warm on my skin.

His lips curved. "Why didn't you tell them you were busy kissing me?"

I arched my eyebrow. "...Is that something to brag about?"

Archer chuckled low in his throat. "They're bugging me to head over too. Let's go together."

We grabbed some takeout down the street and walked into the bar together.

"Claire! How come you showed up with Archer? You two hate each other. Didn't you?"

My expression cooled. "We just ran into each other at the door."

"Archer and Charles are best friends. Why don't you two bury the hatchet already?"

Archer, seated at the far end of the booth, gave a humorless laugh. "Bury the hatchet..."

He tapped the tabletop slowly, his gaze locked onto mine across the room. "...She doesn't deserve that."

Awkward silence fell over the group.

Only I saw the way his eyes held mine, or how he deliberately ran his thumb over the cut on his lip C my mark.

Charles, clutching on the couch, tilted his head to look at me. "Claire?"

I moved to sit beside him, my voice soft and coaxing. "Still hurting? I brought some takeout. Want some?"

I lifted a spoonful to his lips, but Charles's hand jerked out, seemingly accidentally, knocking the soup bowl over.

Soup splattered everywhere.

The room froze for a second.

I didn't miss a beat.

I took his hand, carefully wiped it clean with a napkin, and blew gently on his knuckles. "Did it burn you?"

Mike whistled. "Damn, Claire! Totally head over heels for our man Charles!"

"Well, Charles did trade his eyesight playing the hero for her!"

Charles smiled faintly. "Ignore them. It was my choice. Besides," he added, his voice smooth, "losing my sight to gain a girlfriend? Worth it."

Everyone said Charles Laird treats his girlfriend like a queen, utterly devoted.

Even I had started to believe it, letting my guard down.

Back in freshman year, the Lairds suddenly showed up. They claimed there'd been a mistake at the hospital when I was born; I was actually their daughter.

Mrs. Laird wept as she pulled me into a hug. I stood stiff as a board.

Then her eyes landed on Amelia Laird, tears streaming down her perfect cheeks, and her arms loosened around me.

"Claire, this is Amelia. She's... your sister."

"Your adoptive parents passed years ago. Whether the switch at birth was an accident or deliberate, we'll never know. But Amelia is innocent. I hope you two can get along."

Her hand moved instinctively, as if to shield Amelia from me, as if I might lash out.

Amelia. Pearl of Great Price.

The love for her practically radiated from her name.

For a fleeting moment, I dared to hope. Maybe they could love me like that too.

But that night, passing their room, the door was slightly ajar.

Amelia was whining, "Mommy, now that you found Claire, do you still love me best?"

Mrs. Laird's voice was pure indulgence. "Silly girl, of course I love you most. Now, off to bed."

Before I could react, Amelia pushed the door open. Seeing me, she smirked, not surprised at all.

"You little snake," she whispered.

I stood frozen outside.

The conversation inside continued.

Mrs. Laird sounded worried. "There's something... off about Claire. When I hugged her, she was so cold, so unresponsive. It gave me chills."

"What if her upbringing twisted her? What if she hurts Amelia?"

Mr. Laird's voice was icy. "Then we send her abroad."

Then why bring me back?

The thought echoed, hollow in my mind.

Love really was a rare thing, isn't it?

And someone like me was never meant to have it.

My first meeting with Charles was at Amelia's birthday party.

The main hall buzzed with chatter and clinking glasses. I slipped away, crouching by the koi pond in the back garden, tossing crumbs to the fish.

Mrs. Laird's words echoed. "It's best if you don't join the party this year.. This whole 'switched at birth' story... it's a private matter. It wouldn't be fair to Amelia... or you. We'll make it up to you next year."

Pop.

A party popper erupted, spraying colorful streamers. A chorus of enthusiastic shouts followed, "Happy Birthday, Amelia!"

"So, you're the Lairds' real heiress?"

I turned. Charles stood there.

I hated that label. I looked away. "My name is Claire."

Charles nodded. Someone called his name from the main house, and he turned to leave.

But he came back a few minutes later.

"Claire," he placed a slice of cake beside me, a charming smile playing on his lips. "Happy Birthday."

The second time we met, Charles confessed his feelings.

He said it was love at first sight.

"I know you don't believe me. I'll prove it."

I didn't take it seriously.

Back then, the university offered an incredible opportunity: a fully-funded study abroad program under the world-renowned Professor, Suzanne. Students with top grades and competition wins were key.

I threw myself into it, desperate for that chance.

Amelia found out. "It's just one spot," she'd scoffed.

Mrs. Laird laughed. "Darling, if you put in half the effort Claire does, we'd have arranged it for you ages ago."

A few days later, Amelia applied for a project that shared the main lab space. We each had small, separate workrooms inside.

The day Mrs. Laird came to visit Amelia, I had just submitted all my application materials. The sudden release of tension hit me like a wave. Exhausted, I fell asleep at my desk.

I woke to thick smoke and flames licking at the walls.

Oh god.

Mrs. Laird and Amelia were here today.

I soaked a cloth, covered my mouth and nose, and stumbled towards Amelia's workroom through the choking haze.

It was empty.

They'd already gotten out.

The fire was everywhere now, the smoke thicker.

As my consciousness faded, Charles burst through the door.

I woke up alone in a hospital room.

Panic seized me. "Charles? Where's Charles?"

"He's in another room. Such a shame. ..his eyes... the doctors couldn't save his vision.."

I ripped out my IV and staggered to Charles's room.

He lay in bed, a white bandage covering his eyes. He turned his head towards the sound I made.

His hand found mine, confirming it was me. Then he smiled weakly.

"Claire. Do you believe me now?"

I was stunned. "Believe what?"

"That I love you."