Chapter 1

No one understood why I would marry a blind woman.

But the woman I knew was kind, innocent, and pure.

For three years of marriage, I took care of her in every possible way—from her meals and clothes to her daily life.

Yet on our anniversary, when I came home excitedly carrying a cake, the woman who had suddenly regained her sight looked at me with disgust.

“How could something this cheap possibly be good enough for me?”

I stared at the familiar face on the television. Her makeup was flawless, and her smile was perfectly practiced.

Everything looked exactly as I remembered it.

Everything except her eyes.

Three years ago, I met Claire Hart for the first time.

It had been pouring that day. I was walking down the narrow street I always took home when I noticed a huddled figure in the corner.

At first, I thought it was a homeless person. But when I got closer, I realized it was a thin young woman.

She was curled up tightly, shivering beneath the curtain of rain.

Without thinking, I raised my umbrella over her head.

Then I met her beautiful, fragile, empty eyes.

How could I describe them?

She looked like a white rose crushed beneath frost and wind—pure and harmless, yet so heartbreaking that I couldn’t help wanting to protect her.

“Are you okay? Do you need help?”

I asked carefully.

The girl stared blankly at my shoulder, then tears began sliding down her cheeks.

“Are you a bad person? Can you hold me?”

“I don’t know what to do… Please save me… I can’t see.”

Her hand closed around my sleeve. She leaned against my shoulder like a helpless little deer.

That was how I brought the blind girl home.

After that, everything happened naturally.

Neither of us rejected the other. We never fought. Every day was sweet and peaceful.

I took care of every part of her life. I couldn’t bear to let her do even the smallest chore or suffer the slightest bit of hardship. I devoted all my time and energy to her.

Then we got married.

During the three years we were together, I could swear on my life that I had never wronged her. I gave her the best of everything and cared for her as carefully as I could.

Had Claire changed all of a sudden?

It seemed that way.

On the television, she was dressed in designer clothes, glamorous and breathtaking. A sensational headline covered half the screen:

“Rising Star Steps Away at the Height of Her Career—Returns Three Years Later.”

“Claire Hart Makes Her First Screen Appearance After Three Years of Blindness.”

I didn’t need Claire to explain anything. After seeing those entertainment headlines, I had already figured out most of the truth.

Three years ago, Claire had debuted as a newcomer and immediately won Best New Artist.

It should have been a happy beginning.

But she had no fanbase and no powerful connections, so she quickly became a target.

The entertainment industry had been especially cutthroat back then. Everyone was fighting desperately for a chance to establish themselves.

Claire’s eyes might have been injured by someone else. Only she knew that the damage hadn’t been serious. With six months to a year of recovery, she would have returned to normal.

But during that blank period, she would have been vulnerable to sabotage. Since she couldn’t work, she had also accumulated enormous breach-of-contract penalties.

So she came up with a plan to retire, get married, and disappear from the public eye.

Maybe she had targeted me from the first day we met.

I was a homebody with a simple life. I didn’t follow the entertainment industry and knew nothing about actresses. That made me the perfect pawn.

I had no parents and barely any friends. She knew I was the ideal candidate.

I cared for her and protected her. I helped her pass through her recovery period safely and peacefully. I also helped her survive the dangerous period when her rivals were watching her every move.

And when she regained her sight and decided to return to show business, the first person she cut loose was the husband who had cared for her for three years.

That day was our third wedding anniversary.

I came home excitedly with a cake, planning to surprise her.

But Claire, sitting at the table, looked completely different from usual.

Her arms were crossed, and her chin was raised arrogantly. Her eyes were no longer empty and unfocused. They were full of disgust.

I noticed nothing unusual. I happily told her,

“Claire, today is our anniversary. Look, I bought a cake from your favorite bakery…”

Claire ignored me.

She scanned me from head to toe with contempt, then said coldly,

“What kind of cheap trash is this? How could it possibly be good enough for me?”

Her words pinned me in place.

For a long time, I stood there in confusion, completely at a loss.