Blind ex-husband Loves me Again

second chance

“Congratulations! Your eyesight is back!”

After three long years of blindness, my ex-husband, CEO of the Kennedy Group can finally see things again.

“It was you who saved me years ago, wasn't it, Vera?” he asked eagerly.

Standing still, I thought he looked fuuny.

“Come back to me Vera, I'll let you be Mrs. Kennedy again!”

As he begged I traced the ugly scar on my belly, a reminder of the sacrifice I made to save him, a smirk formed on my lips. "again?"

"But If I remember correctly, aren't we divorced already?"

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Chapter 1: Shattered Heart
Vera’s POV Chicago, Kennedy Household. In the deep night of the New Year, a tranquil ambiance enveloped the scene, with a serene hush reigning supreme. The elegant French window stood partially ajar to allow the gentle night breeze to tiptoe inside. The subtle light of the moon, concealed behind a thick curtain of clouds, cast a soft, ethereal glow over the surroundings. The faintest rustling could be heard, a symphony of nature, contrasting sharply with the tension in the room. My husband, Howard, broke the silence with words that cut through the night like a knife. "Let's get a divorce," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. He continued, not even glancing at me, his wife of three long years. "Stop dragging it out; three years is already my limit with you." My body stiffened as I gazed at the cold man who had been my husband for the past three years. My eyes dimmed as I struggled to find words. "You... You endured me for three years?" I stammered. "The conditions for the divorce are up to you," he replied mechanically as if reading lines from a script, devoid of any emotion. Howard turned away, his indifference pushing me further into a bone-chilling coldness that had become all too familiar during our time together. I forced a smile through the pain, telling him, "If you don't want a wedding, then we won't have one. There's no need for a divorce..." Before I could finish speaking, the glass on the table was swept off and shattered on the ground. I flinched and took a step back. Howard's handsome face displayed impatience, and his pitch-black eyes smoldered with anger. "There's no room for negotiation!" he declared sharply, then lifted the sheets and got into bed, leaving me alone to clean up the broken shards. As I picked up the broken glasses, I couldn't help but think of the three years I'd spent picking up after him, both literally and figuratively. I moved carefully, not daring to disturb Howard, who remained rigid in his anger. But when I stood up, my numb leg accidentally hit the nearby table, creating a noise. His anger finally burst out. "What do you want?" His voice was tense, and he sat up abruptly, the creases on his forehead deepening. I explained in a low voice, "I wanted to clean up the broken glass. I was afraid you would step on it tomorrow morning..." My voice was always low, so as not to startle him. Three years ago, a car accident had left him blind, and his temper had grown even stranger, especially toward me, despite my unwavering support. A chill flashed through his eyes as he sneered, "Do you think I'm blind and need to be cautious everywhere?" I stood still, feeling a chill in my heart, but I couldn't retort. I had become accustomed to accommodating his emotions, always making excuses for his harsh words, telling myself that he was suffering, too. I never argued with him, no matter how malicious his words became. I didn't answer, and in the silence, Howard's emotions became more volatile. His low, hoarse voice pierced through me like a cold, bitter wind. "Don't think that just because Grandma forced me to give you a wedding, I will accept you! In my heart, you're no different than a servant! You know what, you're even worse than the servants; at least they have some dignity." His words hurt, and though my eyes filled with tears, I had learned to keep them from escaping. Three years together, and I had hoped that Howard would have warmed up to me by now. But as I stared at his cold, stern face, the years of grievances and his unrelenting indifference became unbearable. "I didn't mention the wedding. It was Grandma who thought..." Before I could finish my sentence, he impatiently interrupted me. "If it weren't for you, why would Grandma want us to have a wedding? I don't want to hear another word from you now; get out!" A cold breeze blew in through the window, lifting my thin dress. My fingertips grew chilly, and my limbs began to stiffen. I stared at the glass shards on the floor, feeling as if something in my heart had also shattered. Knowing he couldn't see, I still smiled and spoke gently, "Don't be angry. I'll finish cleaning up and then leave. I won't disturb you." Howard clenched the edge of the blanket, his displeasure evident. He loathed my submissive demeanor, but it was a pattern I had fallen into over the years. His provocations only made me more accommodating, and his harsh words, however cruel, went unchallenged. Howard tightly pursed his lips, suppressing his inner anger. At that moment, the phone on the bedside table rang, breaking the tense atmosphere. He picked it up, his voice deep and hoarse. "What's wrong?" "Mr. Kennedy, it's bad. Miss Lewis, she—she tried to commit suicide! Please come quickly!" Howard's face changed instantly, his eyebrows furrowing. "Which hospital?" The person on the other end provided the address, and he hung up the phone, swiftly getting out of bed. He grabbed the clothes I had laid out for him, preparing to leave. Seeing his urgency, I wanted to help, but I accidentally stepped on a glass shard with my foot. Gritting my teeth, I endured the pain and limped toward Howard. "Where are you going? I'll go with you." He didn't answer, simply putting on his coat and heading for the door. His indifference to my presence stung deeply. After three years of living together, Howard had become adept at navigating our home, much like a sighted person. I was no longer his guide. Suppressing my pride, I reached out to follow him, but it seemed he sensed my presence. With a cold remark, he allowed me to accompany him, despite making it clear that I had lost all dignity in his eyes. "I'm going to see Bella. If you want to come along, then come. After all, you've already lost all dignity." With a single sentence, my tears held back for far too long, finally spilled from my eyes. Isabella, his Isabella, Isabella Lewis, the true owner of his heart. Bella, as in, his Isabella, Isabella Lewis who was the true owner of my husband’s heart. I stood there, watching his slender figure blur in my teary vision until he disappeared. When he left, I couldn't hold myself up any longer and slumped into a chair, a wave of coldness washing over my heart. I had only pursued my own love, offering it to him time and time again, despite his daily rejection and verbal abuse. He trampled her heart, stomped on it every single day but she offered to him on a platter each time. Was that wrong? As usual, swallowing my dignity, I rushed to the car… When I came to the hospital, Isabella was treated for half an hour. The doctors washed her stomach and then transferred her to a VIP ward. With Howard's connections, everyone in the hospital paid special attention to Isabella. I stood by silent observing everything and a bit away from Howard. Saving her life relieved everyone, otherwise, they wouldn't know how to face the wrath of the heir of the Kennedy Family especially the heir of the Kennedy family. They were afraid that if he lost his temper, it is possible for him to order the hospital to be demolished and they all ended of losing their jobs. In the spacious ward, Howard was waiting by Isabella’s bedside for her to wake up, while the driver and Isabella’s friends who came with her were waiting quietly outside the door. Half an hour later, Isabella regained consciousness. When she saw the man sitting by her bed, she noticed the tension on his handsome face, pursed her lips, and knew that she had won the bet. She smirked when she found me standing in the corner of the room, Howard was here for her. In the dim light, the man's silhouette was profound and perfect. This was a deliberate act and Isabella wasn’t willing to let him off so easily. Why should she willingly let him off, such a handsome man whom she had wrapped around her little finger? The man blatantly ignored his own wife for this mistress. "I thought you didn't want me anymore." Isabella lowered her voice and added the tremble to it. I was stunned to see the change in her expression after she just threw a nasty smirk at me. Her weak voice dissipated the coldness in Howard’s eyes and revealed a hint of tenderness in his pitch-black eyes. His voice was low, "Next time, don't do anything foolish for my sake." Isabella’s eyes widened and she didn’t look pleased by his answer. I was shocked too, after experiencing life and death, all Isabella got was just this sentence from him. Isabella gritted her teeth and suddenly hugged him. Her delicate face snuggled against his shoulder, and tears trickled down. I know she wasn’t going to go this chance to waste. The next words sank my heart as I knew she was trying to show my place in Howard’s life, I was no one to him. "If it weren't for you, my life would be meaningless. Now the whole world knows that you are going to marry this woman,” She scowled at me. “Vera Samantha. What am I then?"

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