Page 51 of Blind Devotion
I stopped short, brows furrowed. “What did you just say?”
“I mean, I knew you were a grump and high-strung, but don’t get in a tizzy. I’d almost think you care.”
“Say the first thing again.” I crouched before her.
“What?”
I growled my frustration. “Repeat it, the first thing you said.”
Her brow scrunched. “Never did I––”
“No, how you said it before.”
“Never ever never?”
My mouth moistened. My ears rang. Only one other person I knew ever used that phrasing. It was impossible.
A new number was called.
“That’s us.” Tessa rose to her feet.
I guided her past the open consultation door, too preoccupied with her wording to realize she shut the door behind us, effectively giving the doctor permission to share her information. Not that I was giving her a choice either way.
I sat off to the side as the ophthalmologist went through standard questions that Tessa answered during the doctor’s daily visits to my estate. She removed Tessa’s eye dressings.
A thin red scar traversed the eyelids of Tessa’s right eye, surrounded by what appeared to be a rash. The eye itself was murky white in its center, circled by a vibrant green that had me rubbing at my own eyes in case I was imagining it. Her left eye’s iris, aside from the same rash, was entirely that same green. Those eyes, that phrasing—"never ever never”. How was it possible this woman kept bringing back to the forefront of my thoughts a person I tried so thoroughly to forget? Tessa deserved better. She wasn’t an echo of a girl I once knew.
She was the woman who made me set aside my principles. The woman who drove me senseless. The one who made me put the rest of the world on hold. I wanted to hear her voice every day. I wanted to bask in her presence. It was troubling, aggravating, and infuriating, and yet I looked forward to it more and more.
The doctor performed an optical coherence tomography, then went over the results of the CT scan, which she had ordered a rush on. As suspected, the scarring in her right eye was extensive. Long term, the option for surgery may be reviewed for the removal of the scar tissue, but for now, the doctor diagnosed the eye with complete vision loss.
With light perception and some distinguishable color, her left eye held a better chance of partial vision recovery within the next few months. The graft had taken well, and it was only due to prolonged exposure to salt water and delayed treatment that her recovery wasn’t more optimistic. The slight rash scarring, however, was permanent caused by whatever chemical had burned her eyes.
My lips twitched as the doctor fitted her with what looked like breathable goggles with a head strap. I stood at her back, a silent sentinel in case she needed comfort, but Tessa accepted the news without a hint of frustration or anguish.
“I understand,” was all she said. Maddening woman. Mesmerizing, astounding, and most of all, surprising. She took it all in stride with more strength and poise than many of the toughest men I knew.
She quietly thanked the doctor as we left.
We walked through the entire clinic with her mood silent and somber. No smile on those pouty, plush lips. No joy at having the bandages removed and replaced by eye shields that put that stunning green on display.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“I’m fine.”
Rain battered the ground, splashing up and into the dry area below the awning of the clinic. The humidity was stifling. My collar clung to my skin.
She still hadn’t said a word. I didn’t like it.Ma petite rescapéewas an upbeat chatterbox who let very little get her down. Shesmiled. She dared. She rose above it all like an untouchable queen, ready to lay waste to her enemies.
I pulled her into me and backed her up with a firm hold on her waist until her back hit the wall. A gasp escaped her, and I shoved down the need to capture it for myself.
“Get it out now. Whatever it is.”
“Let go of me.”
She knocked her fists against me. It was cute she thought she could move me. Our size difference had never before been so obvious, with her eyes reaching no higher than my chin.
“This isn’t funny, Adrien. I’m not in the mood.”
