Fire Revealed His Blindness

I barely made it to the restroom before my stomach revolted. The champagne, the humiliation, the weight of twenty years of unrequited love—it all came rushing up, and I couldn't stop it.

I gripped the porcelain, my knuckles white as I emptied what little was in my stomach. The cold tile floor pressed against my knees, a stark contrast to the burning in my throat.

"Ugh, is someone sick in here?" A woman's voice drifted through the door, followed by the click of heels on tile.

I flushed quickly and tried to compose myself, but my reflection in the mirror told a different story. Mascara streaked down my cheeks, and my lipstick was smeared. I looked exactly like what I was—a woman falling apart.

I slid into the nearest stall, locking the door behind me. I just needed a moment to pull myself together, to find some shred of dignity to carry me through the rest of this nightmare.

"Well, it's definitely the tomboy," another voice said, followed by laughter. "God, she's been following Killian around for years. You'd think she'd get the hint."

I pressed my forehead against the cool metal partition, willing myself to disappear.

"It's pathetic how she still thinks she has a chance," a third voice chimed in. "Did you see her face when he made her toast to Chloe? Like a puppy waiting for scraps."

Their laughter echoed off the bathroom walls, each word cutting deeper than the last. I closed my eyes, trying to block them out, but it was no use.

"Maybe she should just accept her role as the permanent sidekick," the first voice said. "Some people are just meant to be extras in other people's stories."

I stayed in that stall long after they left, my hands clenched into fists, fighting back fresh tears.

---

My phone rang at 7 AM the next morning. Killian's name flashed on the screen, and despite everything, my heart skipped a beat.

"Riley! Thank God you picked up," his voice was bright, enthusiastic. Too enthusiastic.

"Killian," I managed, my voice still rough from crying. "It's early."

"I know, I'm sorry, but I need your help with something important." He paused, and I could practically hear the smile in his voice. "I want to plan something special for Chloe."

I sat up in bed, running my fingers through tangled hair. "What kind of special something?"

"A romantic surprise. Dinner, maybe, or a weekend getaway." He sounded like a kid on Christmas morning. "We've lost so much time, you know? Ten years is a long time to be apart."

Ten years. While he'd been pining for her, I'd been right there beside him. But I hadn't been "apart" from him. I'd been forgotten.

"I need to make up for all that lost time," he continued, oblivious to my silence. "Show her how much she means to me."

"Killian—" I started, but he cut me off.

"You're the best, Riley. You always know exactly what to do in these situations." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know women better than I do."

No, I didn't. I only knew myself, and I was beginning to realize I didn't even know that very well anymore.

"Please?" he added. "This is really important to me."

---

Two hours later, we stood in the middle of Tiffany & Co., surrounded by glittering display cases. Killian's eyes darted from one necklace to another, his expression intense with concentration.

"What do you think of this one?" He pointed to a delicate platinum chain with a teardrop diamond pendant.

The saleswoman smiled. "That's one of our most popular pieces. Simple but elegant."

I nodded, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in my chest. "It's beautiful."

"Or maybe this one?" Killian moved to the next case, pointing to a more elaborate design with multiple diamonds cascading down the chain.

"That's stunning," the saleswoman agreed. "More dramatic, perhaps for a special occasion?"

Killian's eyes lit up. "Perfect. Chloe loves dramatic."

I watched him carefully examine each piece, his face animated as he imagined Chloe wearing his gift. The saleswoman glanced between us, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Is this for your girlfriend's sister?" she asked me, clearly mistaking my role in this scenario.

I felt Killian's eyes snap to mine, waiting for my response. The words stuck in my throat.

"Just a friend," I finally managed, the lie burning my tongue.

The saleswoman nodded sympathetically. "Well, your friend has excellent taste."

Killian beamed, oblivious to the double meaning in her words. He turned back to the display case, already moving on to the next potential gift for the woman who had replaced me in the space of a week.

I stood beside him, invisible as always, watching him select the perfect symbol of his love for someone else.