–Livana–
Hmm. I still don't understand how it happens. But whenever Damon is with me, the intimidating, shadowed presence he carries—the darkness etched in his features—seems to fade away. Tonight, he is carefully arranging our meal, one that Chef Wally had already prepared.
He serves my plate with precision, portioning it neatly into four equal slices as though cutting pie, and instead of sitting across from me, he settles by my side. I would have liked to use my eyes freely and eat without restraint, but I cannot. My husband still believes me blind, and so I remain within the role he knows, watched over and fussed over by a man who does not realize I see every detail.
"Are you eating?" I asked softly, tilting my head toward him. I had not even noticed him lift his fork or spoon.
"I'm admiring you," he replied, his grin almost audible, as though I could see it without sight.
