Chapter 2

Darcey’s POV

I contacted Jules Marchal, my fan club president.

After I went blind, he’d begged me a million times to try the latest eye-replacement surgeries abroad.

But Alexis, that bastard, told me he’d never heard of it and warned me to not trust Jules.

Well, fuck that bastard’s opinions.

Even if the surgery fucked me up for life, I needed to see.

Jules moved fast, like he’d been waiting my whole life for me to say yes. I was in the OR before I even blinked.

The next day, when they peeled off the bandages, light slammed into me.

Everything was blurry, doubled, but I could finally make out faces, contours, shapes…

It was enough to drive me insane with joy.

Before I could even call Jules to thank him, my phone buzzed. It was Alexis. His voice was panicked, dripping with guilt.

“Babe, where are you? Why didn’t you come home last night?”

“I only got home this morning and nearly shit myself worrying! What if something happened to you? I swear, if anything happened, I’d fucking die!”

My chest went cold as I gripped my phone. That heat in my heart, just from seeing, felt like it got doused in ice water.

Every word out of his mouth sounded sincere.

If I hadn’t heard what he’d said last night, I might’ve fallen for it again, like a stupid ass.

Who can resist love that sounds that real?

But all I wanted to ask him was one thing.

Why?

How the fuck can you say you love me and destroy my entire life at the same time?

The words almost came out, but I swallowed them.

I’d never get the truth from him anyway.

I took a deep breath, softened my voice, and sounded the way I always did: reliant and tender.

“My eyes felt uncomfortable last night, and I couldn’t reach you, so I went to the hospital myself,” I lied.

He sounded even more guilty now.

“Sorry, babe, I was stuck at a damn business thing last night. I should’ve been there. I’ll pick you up right now.”

I hung up and sat in the hospital lobby, squinting, calling my lawyer friend. I needed a favor.

I waited and waited, but Alexis never showed up.

Just as I was about to grab a cab, two familiar figures appeared across the lobby.

I pulled out my phone and opened the camera.

There, in full view, were Alexis and Yasmine.

He was kneeling on one knee, holding her ankle, rubbing her foot like she was a goddess or something. He acted soft, careful, almost worshipful.

My chest tightened, pain crawling up from my gut.

I thought about all the times I fell while dancing. He’d pick me up, call a doctor, patch me up.

But he never once rubbed my foot like this.

Fake love. Real love. Both right there in front of me.

Fake love was enough to trick a blind girl.

My heart ripped in half.

Alexis suddenly looked up and spotted me. His expression shifted but quickly relaxed.

Why was he tense? I couldn’t see him.

“Darcey!” he called.

He pulled me into his arms. His voice trembled with fear.

“Sorry I’m late. Are your eyes still hurting?”

I’d been soaked in rain all night, numb to cold. But wrapped in his arms… I felt it. That instinctive craving.

I almost wanted it.

I tried to push him away.

Then a quiet gasp came from behind me.

“Alexis… my foot hurts… even more,” Yasmine said.

He let go of me instantly and rushed back to her side.

“Did I use too much force?” he asked.

I stood there, still feeling the warmth of him in my arms, and let out a bitter laugh.

He hurriedly explained while checking her foot.

“Darcey, Yasmine twisted her ankle while dancing. I’m taking her to get it checked,” he said.

“We grew up together. She’s like a little sister. Don’t read into it…”

I interrupted softly.

“Go.”

I didn’t cling like I used to. I didn’t beg him to stay.

He hesitated for a moment but just shrugged it off.

He bent down in front of me and picked up Yasmine in front of me, assuming I couldn’t see.

I clenched my hands, my nails digging into my palms.

He’d always used the “she’s like a sister” excuse with Yasmine. I’d trusted him because I had no choice. I was fucking blind.

But now, seeing everything clearly, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.

Hours later, he finally came back to pick me up.

Near home, my phone buzzed.

Almost home, my phone buzzed.

A video from Yasmine came through.

It was her performance from earlier that day.

At the end of the video, Alexis walked onstage and kissed her amid the applause.

Then a voice message followed.

Yasmine’s soft, gentle voice sounded. “Darcey, I danced on a new stage today. You must be proud of me. After all, I danced your choreography.”

I gritted my teeth, trying not to see it. Trembling, I asked Alexis, “What does she mean she danced my choreography?”

I stared emptily in his direction.

I still clung to a ridiculous shred of hope.

Maybe he would finally tell the truth.

Even just a little.

But he didn’t even furrow his brow.

He answered casually, “Ever since she found out you’re the genius choreographer ‘Butterfly,’ she’s admired you. She’s been practicing your dances.”

“She sent the video so you could see her respect… Maybe she forgot you couldn’t see.”

What a fucking liar!

I almost couldn’t hold back my rage.

That dance was the one I had choreographed just a week ago!

He had stolen it and given it to Yasmine!

The second he got home, like he feared I’d ask more, he pinned me to the door and kissed me, acting scared.

“Babe, don’t think about anything else, okay?”