He Called Me Blind

CHAPTER THREE — Can't See the Truth

ETHAN'S POV

The glass shattered before I even knew what was happening.

My head was heavy from the whiskey and wine—not enough to black me out, but just enough to make my senses dull and slow.

The private lounge pulsed with music and the perfume-drenched air felt suffocating.

I hated places like this. I hated drinking. But Isabella had begged me.

"Just one drink, Ethan. For old time's sake."

I couldn't refuse her, so I gave in.

I only meant to stay for a short while—just one drink, then leave. But before I knew it, I let her pull me in. Maybe because a part of me still believed what my wolf always whispered—that she was the one.

My wolf howled for her.

But when I heard the name—Claire—everything in me snapped back.

I stiffened. My blood froze.

No… she couldn't be here.

I sat up fast, heart pounding in my chest.

And there she was—standing at the entrance of the lounge, cane in hand, with a frigid expression.

How long had she been here?

Then I saw the broken wine glass on the floor… the red splash on someone’s clothes.

The woman who had been splashed by the red wine was about to lash out at Claire, but I stopped her immediately with a murderous glare.

I got to my feet instantly, ignoring the way my head spun. "Claire, why are you here?"

I moved toward her. My instinct was to touch her, to reach for her hand, to bring her into my arms where I could control the damage—but she pulled away.

Her move was so abrupt and sharp. As if touching me had scorched her.

I froze there, utterly speechless.

In our three years of marriage, Claire had never rejected my touch this harshly.

Something was deeply and dangerously wrong.

Her expression didn’t show it, but I could feel the shift in her aura—the chill in the air around her.

My hand went to her hip as I drew her close and murmured in a low voice, "Let's go home."

She lifted her chin, mist clouding her sightless eyes. "Ethan, just be honest with me. Have you ever loved me? Or is it Isabella?"

My breath stuck in my throat.

What the hell was she asking?

My gaze flicked to Isabella, who watched us with a proud look.

"That's ridiculous," I said quickly, trying to coax her. "How could I not love you?"

But my voice cracked inside.

Claire looked straight through me, even if she couldn't see me.

"Your friends said it themselves," she choked. "That I’m just a blind nobody. That you and Isabella are perfect for each other.”

These bastards!

I turned, glaring sharply to them—fury surging through me.

Their faces paled.

“Luna, forgive us. W-we were drunk! We didn’t mean it!” one stammered.

“Yeah, it was nonsense. Just stupid talk,” another added.

“You and Alpha Ethan are perfect! We were blind!”

I didn’t bother correcting them. I was hoping it could ease the insult they’d thrown at her, even just a bit.

“Ethan… I want to go home,” she uttered, her tone gentler now.

I nodded and wrapped my arms around her to guide her as we walked.

But on our second step, she whimpered softly. I stopped right away. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I twisted my ankle on my way in,” she whispered.

I didn’t hesitate. I lifted her into my arms. I didn’t care who was watching behind us, though I could still hear their faint murmurs:

“I thought Alpha Ethan was done with her,” one said.

“Looks like they’re still crazy about each other.”

“Did you see how tense he was? That wasn’t an act. He really cares.”

“And Claire is too beautiful and stunning. No wonder he hides her like a treasure.”

Let them talk and gossip. I’d already done my part.

“Tell me—where exactly did you twist your ankle?” My voice had a hint of a growl, teeth gritted. “I’ll have this damn place torn down by morning.”

But she didn’t respond again. She just curled into my chest in a fragile form.

And that made me soften slightly.

___

Silence filled the space between us as we drove home.

She sat upright beside me, but she was too quiet. Not like before—she always had that radiant smile on her face while entwining her hand with mine.

I suddenly felt like I was sitting beside a complete stranger.

“Why are you out so late?” I asked her, breaking the cold silence.

“Isabella called me,” she said flatly, lowering her head. “She said you were drunk. I panicked and came over. But then…”

She didn’t finish.

My jaw clenched—tension brewing in my chest.

I reached over and pulled her close to me. "It’s not what you think. Isabella... she just needed someone tonight. She’s been through a lot, you know that right?”

I slowly tried to explain to her.

I felt her body go stiff, but she didn’t respond to my words right away.

“Ethan… would you ever betray me?” she blurted out of nowhere.

I was caught off guard, stupefied. I hadn’t expected her to ask that question.

“I wouldn’t,” I replied curtly, threading my fingers through her soft curls.

Now I’m choking on all the lies I’ve built over the past three years.

I never imagined she would be the one to make me feel this ashamed and guilty.

…..

We arrived home not long after. I carried her to our room, set her gently on the bed, and helped her change.

She didn’t say much.

I joined her after a quick shower, slipped under the sheets, and reached for her waist. Just as my fingers touched her—

Buzz.

My phone lit up on the nightstand. I reached over and glanced at the caller ID.

It was Isabella.

I furrowed my brows tightly.

What does she want again?

Claire shifted beside me.

I kissed her on the cheek as I said, “I just need to take this call.”

She murmured, “Okay.”

I got up and went out of our bedroom. I answered the call in the hallway.

“What’s up?”

I was greeted with silence first, before her voice floated through the line.

“Lucas came to pick me up, but I don’t want to go with him. Ethan, please. Come take me home.”

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, trying to ease the irritation I was feeling.

“Isabella... we can’t keep doing this all the time. I’m a family man now. I have my wife—and soon, my pup. And you will too,” I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my dark hair.

She laughed bitterly on the other line. “So you’re in love with Claire now? Is she more important to you than I am? Are you dumping me, Ethan?”

I knew she was on the brink of crying. And that—that was always my weakness with her.

“No. I don’t love her,” I denied, trying my best to pacify her before she broke down.

“Then why don’t you want to pick me up?!” she sobbed hard.

I closed my eyes, my patience already thinning. “Fine. Wait there. I’m coming.”

I didn’t realize Claire had come out until I bumped into her.

She stood at our bedroom doorway—her face pale, her hair still damp from washing.

“You’re still up?” I blurted.

Has she heard me?

She smiled faintly. “I couldn’t fall asleep when you went out, so I took a quick bath.”

She didn’t ask questions. So I took it as a sign that she hadn’t heard every word I spoke on that phone call.

I moved toward her and kissed her forehead, the lie burning on my lips as I told her, “Get some rest first. I’ll be out for a while—company emergency.”

We headed back to the room, and I started dressing again. When I was finished, I turned to her once more and planted a light kiss on her lips.

“Don’t stay up late,” I said and turned to go. But her fingers closed around my wrist.

“Ethan…” she spoke softly, her voice trembling slightly. “Please… don’t go.”

It wasn’t a command.

It was a quiet, breaking thing.

And somehow, that destroyed me more than any scream ever could.

I wanted to tell her everything from the start.

That I never planned to love her. That I married her because it was what was expected of me.

And yet.. every time I looked at Claire, I felt this inexplicable pull. This unfamiliar ache in my chest.

I didn’t love her.

But I was terrified to lose her.

And maybe I already had.