I Went Blind—Then He Brought Home His Secret Son

On the twentieth anniversary of our marriage, an unexpected explosion at the hotel left me blind.

In my dazed state, I heard the doctor ask sternly:

“Mr. Harrison, are you sure you want to give up on your wife's eye treatment?”

And my husband of twenty years, the man who feared my pain from childbirth and had willingly undergone a vasectomy, replied:

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Only when she’s blind can I openly bring Lena and the kids home.”

“We’ve been hiding for so long. Finally, the three of us can be together.”

Blood and tears flowed uncontrollably.

Twenty years of unwavering love turned out to be nothing but an illusionary deception.

Such a ridiculous marriage is better off ending.

“Alright then, just follow my instructions, make sure she doesn't die.”

The doctor sighed, with a hint of reluctance in his voice:

“She will be blind for the rest of her life, and you still want to remove her uterus. Isn’t that too cruel?”

“Cruel?” Jake Harrison seemed to chuckle.

“Lena Brooks has given me children all these years without asking for anything, willingly staying by my side without a title—that is cruel!”

“All this time, I know she isn’t without grievances; she’s just too kind!”

“Emily Foster’s eyes will be my compensation for Lena…”

He paused here, seemingly searching for more grandiose justifications:

“And besides… Emily was always child-free. Whether we remove her uterus or not, it’s the same.”

“Stop dawdling and get on with it.”

My uterus… my uterus…

I struggled to get up, wanting to scream no, but my anesthetized body grew heavier.

No matter how hard I tried to open my eyes, all I could see was a blood-red haze.

The sound of a machine starting up echoed in my ears, and the doctor sighed one last time:

“This is your twentieth anniversary.”

“…Yes.” Jake seemed to soften, reminiscing, “I will spend the rest of my life making it up to her. When Carl comes back, I will make him call her mom. Don’t let her suffer too much pain.”

With that, he turned and left the operating room.

Outside, an assistant ran in, “Mr. Harrison! The offender’s family has been settled, we gave them five million…”

“Keep your voice down! We’ll talk about it later…”

The door closed, and the cold machinery started invading my body.

I cried silently, too weak even to sob aloud.

Memories from over the years flashed through my mind.

Twenty years ago, Jake and I fell in love. Back then, we were so poor we couldn’t even afford condoms, so we decided to be child-free.

He feared my pain and volunteered for the vasectomy. On the day of the surgery, I watched the weakened Jake, crying from heartache, while he laughed it off:

“Silly Emily, I promised you, after our first night together, I would never let you hurt again.”

Fifteen years ago, our careers finally flourished, and he threw me a grand wedding ceremony.

That’s when his parents started pressuring us to have children, and we confessed our child-free decision.

His parents couldn’t understand, often ending in arguments, even kicking us out on Christmas night during their most intense outburst.

I tentatively suggested, “Jake, should we reconsider having kids now that we can afford to?”

But he shook his head firmly: “Having each other is enough, besides, I don’t want you to suffer the pain of childbirth.”

Eight years ago, his parents suddenly stopped pushing for grandchildren, and at the same time, Jake got busier, traveling more frequently.

He said we needed enough financial security to prevent his parents from meddling in our choices.

I was deeply moved, thinking he was protecting me.