Chapter 1

I was diagnosed with endometriosis, a gynecological condition. The doctor said it could be cured if I got pregnant, otherwise, I'd need a hysterectomy.

But after my husband regained his sight, he no longer wanted to touch me, only kissing my forehead and making excuses about being too tired.

I understood he was exhausted from working at the massage therapy clinic all day, but then I heard him mutter as he turned his back to me:

"By the way, you should go to a beauty salon and ask about laser scar removal or something. See if there's anything they can do."

I was stunned. A long-forgotten sense of shame made my face flush red and white, but more than that, I was shocked.

Was Samuel... disgusted by my face?

My name is Aria Greene, and I'm twenty-eight years old. My husband, Samuel Song, is a blind massage therapist three years younger than me.

We met through a matchmaking service. I had been badly burned in a fire, leaving a winding red scar from my cheek to my neck. It was quite frightening to look at.

Because of this, I had put off getting married. Through my parents' friends, I was introduced to Samuel.

"It's perfect. You have scars on your face, and he's blind, so he won't care about that," my parents' friend whispered to me.

Samuel didn't know about the scars on my face, which is why he was quite satisfied with everything else about me after our matchmaking meeting.

He was kind and honest, and he played the ukulele beautifully. I happened to have a lovely singing voice, like a nightingale, and we often sang together at the clinic.

Our regular customers said we were a perfect match.

Fate had closed one window for each of us, but by meeting each other, we filled each other's gaps.

In anyone's eyes, we were a pitiful yet enviable couple, because in each other's hearts, we were the best partners in the world.

Samuel hadn't been blind since birth. He lost his sight due to light pollution in a factory accident. Although we had sought medical help for years without success, I still took him to see various specialists, hoping for some improvement.

After losing his sight, Samuel taught himself the art of blind massage, and I quit my job to become the manager of the massage therapy clinic to take care of him.

"Aria, I love you. I wish I could see what you look like, but that's impossible now," he would say, looking at me with his sightless eyes and gently touching my face, his smile tinged with sadness.

Since both his parents had passed away, I knew I was the only person he could rely on in this world.

I held the hand on my cheek, silently vowing to cure my husband's eyes.

However, my best friend had once quietly warned me that Samuel's face was trouble - he was too handsome, and if he regained his sight, it might not be a good thing.

Although I had worried about this point, the thought disappeared instantly when I saw the hardships and discrimination my husband endured.

The life of a blind person is incredibly difficult, something only a caregiver can truly understand. I just wanted him to be happy and comfortable.

Lost in thought, I habitually picked up a piece of tuna eye and placed it near his lips:

"It's okay. Of course, it would be best if you could see, but isn't our life pretty good as it is?"

Samuel nodded obediently. He was very dependent on me and always listened to what I said. We had never fought.

I don't know if it was because of our constant search for medical treatment or if those fish eyes we ate actually worked.

One day, he suddenly told me he could see.

It started when he picked up a toothpaste tube that had fallen on the floor without any difficulty, and he suddenly realized.

I was overjoyed and waved my hand in front of his eyes to test:

"Honey, can you really see now?"

At the time, I was cooking in the kitchen, and because I didn't want to contaminate the food, I was wearing a mask.

He kept rubbing his eyes, letting out excited screams. Then he asked me to take off my mask, saying he could finally see what I looked like.

"Aria, you don't know how much I've dreamed of seeing your face. Your voice is so sweet, you must be a real beauty, I..."

I froze, my hand hesitating to remove the mask. It seemed I was more afraid of my husband seeing my face than I had imagined.

My facial features were naturally beautiful, but after so many years, how could I still have the delicate beauty of my youth?

Most importantly, there was the crisscrossing burn scar on the side of my face.

Before I could gather my thoughts, he had already impatiently removed my mask. "Honey!"

The horrific scar was exposed before his eyes, and the air instantly froze.

My heart sank because I clearly saw disappointment in Samuel's newly restored, clear eyes.

Little did he know, I too had once been young and beautiful...

I couldn't dwell on the slightly hurt tears, as I smelled something burning. I quickly turned back to the stove, where the fish eyes I was frying had already burned.

The charred fish eyes were very sticky, burning the bottom of the pan and looking extremely unappetizing.

"Don't bother with that anymore, honey. I don't need to eat those things now," he said, hugging me from behind and burying his face in the crook of my neck.

"I still love you, don't worry."

Tears fell uncontrollably from my eyes as I realized I had found a good man after all. At least he hadn't lost his conscience.

I also mustered up the courage to tell him honestly about my condition.

Due to years of hard work, I had developed endometriosis. The doctor said it was a common gynecological disease that could be cured by getting pregnant.

If not, surgery would be the only option. The success rate was about 80-90%, but the chance of getting pregnant afterward would be almost zero.

Blushing, I said, "Before, because of your blindness, we always used protection and didn't try for a child."

The implication was clear, hinting at my excitement and joy at the prospect of becoming a mother.

Originally, I had prepared myself to remain childless for life in order to take care of Samuel wholeheartedly.

He just gave a noncommittal "mm" and continued to smile, but his gaze lingered on the scar on my cheek, refusing to leave.

In the days that followed, he treated me even more tenderly than before. Since his eyes had recovered, he could also help with some housework.

Samuel had lost his sight in his teens, but now that he had recovered, he quickly reintegrated into normal life. However, I vaguely sensed that something was off.

Everything started to feel strange after we served an old customer at the massage therapy clinic.

Her name was Lily Andrews, about twenty-something, very fresh and pretty, especially with her voluptuous chest. She had mentioned during casual conversation that she had breast augmentation.

"In our line of work, looks and figure are essential. Otherwise, we can't even meet clients," she would say with a coquettish laugh, not at all mindful of mentioning this in front of me with my disfigured face.

She often came to the clinic for massages due to kidney deficiency and lower back problems. Today she came again, but unlike before, my husband could now see what she looked like.

That night was my ovulation period. After turning off the lights, my hand skillfully caressed his body, trying to arouse his interest. "Honey..."

But he no longer wanted to touch me, only kissing my forehead and making excuses about being too tired.

I understood he was exhausted from working at the clinic all day, so I nodded in agreement. But then I heard him mutter as he turned his back to me:

"By the way, you should go to a beauty salon and ask about laser scar removal or something. See if there's anything they can do."

I was stunned. A long-forgotten sense of shame made my face flush red and white, but more than that, I was shocked.

Was Samuel... disgusted by my face?