Damian Turned A Blind Eye

Damian walked into the room, his eyes dull and unreadable. He barely glanced at the floor where the hot water had splashed. His gaze quickly fell on the back of my hand, which was already swelling and turning red. But he did not stop. He walked straight to the bed, looking at Sienna. "Why aren't you sleeping yet?"

Sienna acted surprised to see him. She grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling him down to sit beside her. She hugged him tightly, her face a mask of guilt and panic. "I slept too much during the day, so I can't fall asleep now. Why are you here, Damian?"

"I came to see you," Damian said.

His dark eyes drifted back toward me. He stared at the rising blisters on my hand and furrowed his brows. "Go get it treated," he said coldly.

His voice was flat, without any trace of concern or pity.

Sienna clung to him, hiding her face against his chest. "It's my fault, Damian. I was so careless. I didn't mean to cause Sis Adeline to get burned."

Damian gently stroked her long hair, his silent gesture showing he had no intention of blaming her.

I stood there, feeling as though I had been pushed to the edge of a steep cliff. My chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. I turned and walked out of the ward in silence.

I knew from the beginning that I would lose Sienna's cruel bet. Yet, a pathetic part of me had still held onto a tiny trace of hope. I had hoped he might at least ask if I was in pain. A single kind word would have been enough to support me.

Instead, I got nothing but indifference.

I walked down the lonely, sterile corridor, blinking back tears. Suddenly, a broad chest blocked my path. I stopped and looked up to find Dr. Simon Cross standing in front of me.

He stared at me, his sharp eyes narrowing as they locked onto my injured hand. For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then, he broke the quiet. "Does it hurt?"

That simple question shattered my remaining strength. A large tear slipped from my eye, falling to the cold floor. The draft in the empty hallway made me shiver.

It was a cruel joke. A doctor I barely knew cared enough to ask if I was in pain, while the husband I had lived with for two years turned a blind eye.

Embarrassed, I tried to pull my hand back. "It's nothing. I'll be fine."

Simon grabbed my wrist, his grip firm. "I'm a doctor," he said, leaving no room for argument.

He led me directly to an examination room. After giving brief instructions to a nurse, he looked at me. "Cooperate with her so she can bandage it."

"Thank you," I murmured. He nodded and left.

The young nurse prepped the medical tray, her brow furrowing when she saw the burn. "This is quite severe. The blisters are large, and it might leave a permanent scar."

"That's fine," I replied quietly. A scar on my hand was nothing compared to the wounds in my heart.

The nurse pulled out a sterile needle. "I need to pop the blisters and clean out the fluid. It's going to hurt, so try to endure it."

"I will."

She began the treatment. The sharp sting of the needle and the cold bite of the alcohol made me tense up. The physical pain was sharp, but it barely mattered. The real agony was the crushing weight in my chest. Compared to the realization that Damian didn't care about me at all, this physical sting was nothing.

I sat in silence as the nurse bandaged my hand. Once she finished and gave her instructions, I stood up and walked back toward Sienna's ward.

As I passed the stairwell, the sound of familiar voices made me freeze. The heavy door was slightly open.

"Master Ashford has passed away, so when are you planning to divorce her?"

It was Simon's voice.

"Her? Adeline?"

The responding voice was deep and icy. It belonged to Damian.

I stood in the shadow of the corridor, looking through the gap. Damian was leaning against the railing, his hands in his pockets. Simon stood opposite him, leaning against the wall with a half-smoked cigarette.

Simon flicked the ash onto the floor. "You know she didn't do anything wrong. She only did it because she loves you."

Damian looked up, his expression defensive. "Since when did you start caring about her?"

Simon's brow furrowed. "I'm just reminding you so you won't regret it later. No matter how deep her love is, there will come a day when she takes it all back."

A cold sneer echoed from the stairs. "I've never cared about her love."

The words hit me like a physical blow.

I didn't stay to hear another word. I turned and walked away. Some things are better left acknowledged in silence. If you have to hear such a harsh truth from others so clearly, it is only your own fault for not knowing when to let go.