"You should have told me," I said.
"I know. I was wrong," she whispered.
I was furious because he had hidden the truth from me, but I couldn't ignore the years he had dedicated to trying to restore my sight.
"You took my sight away," I told him, "but you dedicated your life to trying to give it back to me."
My anger didn't disappear, and rebuilding trust would take time. But I was willing to give him another chance, on one condition: no more secrets.
For the first time, I could finally see my husband clearly. And this time, I chose to face our future with my eyes wide open.
