Fire Revealed His Blindness

The mahogany doors of the Meridian Hotel's private dining room felt heavier than usual as I pushed them open. Another business dinner, another evening of pretending everything was fine.

"Riley!" James Patterson, one of Killian's senior partners, waved me over. "We saved you a seat."

I forced a smile as I approached the table. "Thanks. Killian sends his apologies. Last-minute emergency."

"Of course he does," James chuckled, pulling out my chair. "At least we can count on you to show up."

The joke landed with a hollow thud in my chest. I was always the reliable one, the constant presence in Killian's unpredictable schedule.

"Where is he tonight?" someone asked.

"The usual," I replied, my voice steady despite the ache building behind my ribs. "Last-minute client meeting."

The lie tasted bitter on my tongue. Killian wasn't with any client. He was with Chloe, probably sharing dessert at that little French bistro downtown—the one he'd mentioned wanting to try with her.

I excused myself to use the restroom, needing a moment away from the curious glances and pitying smiles. As I rounded the corner, I heard voices from the hotel bar.

"It's really sad how Armstrong still follows Brooks around like a lost puppy," a female voice said, followed by the clink of glasses.

I froze, pressing myself against the wall.

"I know," another voice agreed. "Someone should tell her he's never going to see her that way."

"Can you imagine? Twenty years of pining after a guy who sees you as nothing but his loyal sidekick?"

Their laughter drifted down the hallway, sharp and cutting. I closed my eyes, fighting the urge to confront them—or worse, to cry.

Instead, I straightened my spine and walked into the bar, head held high. "Excuse me," I said, my voice cool and professional. "I believe our table is ready for the main course."

---

"Another wine tasting?" I stared at the invitation in my hand, trying to keep my expression neutral.

Chloe smiled brightly from across Killian's living room. "Yes! I've discovered this amazing vineyard in Napa. We're doing a private tasting this Saturday."

This Saturday. My birthday.

"Sounds lovely," I managed, even as my stomach twisted painfully. "I'm not sure if I'm free, though."

"Oh, it's just a small group," Chloe continued, her eyes never quite meeting mine. "Very intimate. Just Killian and me, Marcus and his wife, and a few close friends."

Just the people who mattered. The people who weren't me.

"Riley always has something going on," Killian added, not bothering to look up from his phone. "She's probably already made plans."

I clenched my jaw. "Actually, I haven't. But I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time."

"We will," Chloe said, her smile widening. "And it's perfect timing—the vineyard has this special dessert wine that would be perfect for... well, for celebrations."

Killian finally looked up, confusion crossing his face. "Celebrations?"

"It's nothing," I said quickly, before Chloe could respond. "Just a random Saturday."

His brow furrowed for a moment, then cleared as his phone buzzed with another notification. Whatever it was—probably a message from Chloe—made him smile in that special way that used to be reserved for me.

---

"Another antacid?" Elena, the receptionist at Killian's office, handed me the familiar pink bottle.

I nodded gratefully, shaking two tablets into my palm. "Thanks."

"It's getting worse, isn't it?" she asked quietly.

I swallowed the tablets, wincing as they dissolved on my tongue. "It's fine."

"It's not fine," she insisted. "You're skipping meals again."

I couldn't deny it. Every business dinner I attended for Killian meant another evening of watching him text Chloe under the table, another night of forcing food past the knot in my stomach.

"I'm just busy," I said weakly.

"Busy covering for someone who doesn't even notice," Elena muttered, just loud enough for me to hear.

I couldn't argue with that. My stomach cramped painfully, a reminder of last night's dinner at Le Ciel, where I'd picked at my food while Killian had canceled yet again to take Chloe to the theater.

"Maybe you should see a doctor," Elena suggested.

I shook my head. "I'll be fine. Just need to manage my stress better."

But as I walked back to my desk, my phone buzzed with another message from Killian: *Need you to cover for me tomorrow night. Big client meeting. Thanks, Riles.*

I stared at the screen, my finger hovering over the reply button. For a moment, I imagined saying no—imagined what it would feel like to put myself first, just once.

Instead, I typed back: *Of course. No problem.*

The pain in my stomach intensified, but I ignored it. After all, what was a little discomfort compared to the satisfaction of being needed?

Even if it was only as a substitute for the person he really wanted to be with.