The gauze was gently removed from around my eyes.
My eyes stung with dryness, and the soft light made me reluctant to open them. The nurse stood by, advising me to wear an eye mask and to avoid water for a month.
I said "thank you" and then heard the nurse grumble indignantly, “Such a beautiful, young girl, donating her corneas, and no family to pick her up after the surgery.”
The room fell into a hush.
Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, so I quickly tilted my head back to steady myself.
The doctor had warned that I couldn’t shed tears for a week after the surgery or risk infection.
Adjusting to the changes in my vision, I slowly opened my eyes.
What greeted me was a blur of fog—no recognizable shapes or figures.
I smirked to myself, thinking that Gene Wells was probably glued to his first love's side, not daring to be apart for a moment.
How could he possibly remember me?
Groping along the edge of the bed, I put on my shoes and stumbled out of the hospital.
Two weeks ago, I had planned to get my eye mask fitted, but Gene Wells had stubbornly prevented me.
I thought he had a sudden change of heart, but I was too naive.
He insisted I take care of my eyes and prepare for the surgery, saying everything was in order and I shouldn’t worry.
Then, he spent every moment wrapped up with his first love.
From start to finish, he showed no concern for whether I was willing or not.
I squinted into the glaring sun.
A wave of inexplicable sadness washed over me as the wind brushed past my ears.
The scorching heat was melting away the chill from my body.
That’s when I realized my money and phone were with Gene Wells.
I stood under the sun for just a few minutes and already felt dizzy and faint.
But now, I could barely see anything, only a vague white shape in the distance.
Acting on instinct, I reached out to a passerby.
The person stiffened, and I quickly pointed to my eyes, saying, “I’m blind. Could you please help me?”
“Help me call my boyfriend.”
The person seemed to evaluate me with their eyes for a moment, and I feared I’d struck out.
As I let go of their sleeve, a warm, soothing voice finally spoke, “Can you give me the number?”
I widened my eyes in hope, trying to see through the mist.
Unfortunately, my vision was too foggy to make out anything.
Fortunately, I was close enough to catch the refreshing scent of mint on him.
I smiled, about to speak, when a familiar voice cut through from behind.
“What are you doing?”