The Awakening

Clover’s POV

As the week drags on, I move through the house like a ghost pretending not to know the truth. My husband, my partner, my lifeline, the only real family I thought I had, has been living a whole damn double life. And now that the blindfold is off, everything he does feels like a slap in the face.

Every day he comes home from work putting on this Oscar worthy show. He makes sure to “check on me,” to wrap me in a big hug, and to shower me with attention. Meanwhile, he sneaks away to take calls, whispering and placating to this awful ass woman…the woman who knows we are married, the one who is carrying his child.

But, I stay in character.

I stay the blind little wife.

Blind to life.

Blind to truth.

Blind to my cheating bastard of a husband.

Blind to the betrayal that has gutted me from the inside out.

I sigh as I imagine the many ways I could take this man out in his sleep. But I decide against that, for now.

Since the moment the truth broke wide open, I’ve thrown myself into my old financial catalog. Something Zade never took seriously. Even though my old tech algorithms that I allowed him to use for his technology helped him to become the success he is today. Being a strong business woman is something he assumed I couldn’t handle because I was blind.

But here’s what he never knew…

Grandma Lola, my savior, raised me better than that. She didn’t just love me; she taught me. She poured loyalty, discipline, and financial genius into me. By the time I hit eighteen, I wasn’t just surviving, I was thriving. I helped expand her restaurant into a full franchise base business with twelve booming locations across California.

I taught her how to invest in stocks and crypto currency, and from what to hold, what to dump, what to double down on. And she taught me how to save…I mean really save money.

Most foster parents bleed their kids dry the second they turn sixteen. But not her. Every dime I made? She put aside for me. Every hour I worked? She honored it.

And then on graduation day…she gave me adoption papers.

She became my real grandmother. My family.

That woman is everything.

So when I pulled up my financial profile today and saw just how much I’d accumulated after years of smart investing, I just…smiled. These were things Zade didn’t know about. Things I intentionally kept private. Like I am one of the largest stake holders in our company. That's right I said our company because it is our company. Did it ever make me feel guilty? Maybe. But a voice always told me to keep something for myself.

And now I know why.

Tonight, I want to see them without them knowing I can. I want to look my betrayer in the face.

With Jeff’s help, I created a fancy dinner. Zade’s favorite meal of all time.... lasagna and garlic bread. Peach sweet tea, because that man loves it more than he loves half his relatives, and a New York strawberry cheesecake to finish it off.

I want him comfortable, happy, and very unaware.

I went into my closet and dug for the sexiest thing I owned…which turned out to be nothing. Every piece of clothing I had was modest, long-sleeved, one tone blind girl chic. I had no prints, no sex appeal, and no edge.

I scoffed at myself until I looked over at Zade’s side of the closet.

Hmm.

His crisp white dress shirts. The ones that hang perfectly off broad shoulders. The ones that smell like cedar and expensive cologne.

I ran my fingers through the row of shirts, and grabbed one, and that’s when I noticed something behind them.

Bags. What the hell.

Baby clothes. Stuffed animals. Tiny shoes.

My heart, the part left unshattered, dropped straight into my stomach. I forced myself to breathe.

Get it together, Clover.

We need facts. We need proof.

I took the shirt and went to my lingerie drawer. Of course, that was also a disappointment, nothing sexy, nothing bold, but then I found a stray black lace set. Not much, but enough.

No heels, either. Only kitten heels and wedges, which were not the vibe.

So my soft skin glistening and bare feet it was.

I showered, oiled up, and looked at myself in the mirror, I mean really looked. I could see so much clearer now. My scar beneath my eye, the one slicing through my eyelid, stared right back at me. I didn’t cover it. I wanted to remember.

Light makeup. Glossy lips. My red hair in a high ponytail with soft curls cascading down, a few strands framing my face. My green eyes caught the light, sharp and bright.

I slipped into the shirt, buttoned to the collar…and then unbuttoned the top three out of pure defiance. Tugged one side off the shoulder. Rolled the sleeves.

I smirked at myself.

That’s more like it.

I grabbed my walking stick, sunglasses, and headed downstairs. Jeff glanced up and nearly choked.

“Ma’am…wow.”

“Is it too much?” I teased.

“For what you’re doing tonight? No, ma’am. Not at all.”

I smiled and went to the dining room. I lit the candles, poured the drinks, set the plates. Made sure that every detail was perfect.

Zade texted that he was headed straight home.

Good.

I moved the lasagna out to the dining table with garlic bread pieces, and everything looked great. A perfect picture of a devoted blind wife.

Then I checked my phone.

He should be here in four minutes.

The front door opened early.

I put on my glasses, placed my walking stick beside my chair, and sat.

He walked in, loosened his tie, shoulders looking relaxed, and already sniffing the air.

“Babe…what’s all this?” he asked, walking over to kiss my cheek.

I stiffened.

“I made your favorite food. Jeff helped of course.”

“This is why I love you so much.”

His voice sounded thick, guilty maybe. Or maybe I was imagining it.

He excused himself to drop off his jacket and briefcase. I checked the time.

Two minutes til my surprise shows up.

Then the doorbell rang.

Zade rushed forward.

“I’ll get it!”

I stayed perfectly still.

“Oh…what are you doing here?” he said.

Her voice cut through the air like nails on a chalkboard.

“I was invited.”

“By who?”

She cackled. “Your wife.”

Of course I did.

Her footsteps clung to his. Her arm wrapped around his like she owned it.

I turned my head slightly.

“Hi, Daisy. Thank you for coming.”

“You know I’m here?” she asked with fake sweetness.

“Yes. I can hear.” I tapped my ear. “My hearing is very good.”

Zade guided her to the chair across from me, then took his seat at the head of the table, and sat right between his wife and his mistress like some off-brand polygamous leader.

Only my sunglasses kept me from burning a hole through both of them.

“Honey,” he said, trying to sound casual, “what made you invite Daisy over?”

“I haven’t heard from her in a while,” I said. “And she’s your best friend after all. I thought it’d be nice.”

He stiffened, but he didn’t argue.

“Well Daisy’s been pretty busy lately,” he added. “She’s, uh…pregnant.”

I clapped lightly.

“Oh! Congratulations. Who’s the lucky guy?”

She smirked, licking her lips as she stared at him.

“That’s a long story Clover, but to let you know I'm five and a half months. Almost six,” she cooed. “Zade already knows everything. Zade, do you want to tell your wife how I got pregnant?”

He squeezed her hand so tight she flinched.

Damn coward.

Instead of saying anything, he excused himself and went to grab some wine. I refused to have any.

He then started plating food for her. Then for me like I’m the wicked step child, and last for himself.

This felt like some kinda weird polygamy dinner from hell.

I touched my plate like the blind wife I was pretending to be and began eating.

“Oh,” Zade said, clearing his throat, “Daisy had trouble conceiving. She went to a sperm bank.”

I raised an eyebrow behind my glasses.

She smirked.

“So that’s how I got pregnant, Zade?”

“Yes,” he said quickly. “That’s how.”

Her smile said otherwise.

They slipped into easy conversation both laughing, whispering, sharing glances. The same way he used to talk to me. Their chemistry was undeniable, and disgusting at the same time.

“So,” Daisy said, “when are you two bringing a little one into the world?”

“Hopefully soon,” Zade said. “I’ve always wanted one child with my wife.”

Her face twisted like she swallowed poison.

I shrugged.

“If it happens, it happens.”

She leaned forward with that snide, pitying tone.

“I mean…you’re blind. You won’t be able to see your baby’s eyes, or their first steps, or... ”

“Yes,” I said, cutting her off softly. “I know what I’ll miss.”

She changed subjects abruptly.

“So what are you wearing?”

“Oh,” I said lightly, “I found this shirt dress on my side of the closet. At least I think it’s mine. Feels like a man’s shirt.”

Zade stared at me. Like really stared.

“You look gorgeous,” he said quietly. “I haven’t seen your hair like that since college. And…you did your makeup?”

“I tried,” I said.

“You did a good job.”

I felt the bile rise in my throat.

I was done pretending to eat and stood slowly.

“Well, I’m going to retire for the night, I'm a bit tired. Jeff?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Clean this up, please.”

“Of course.”

As I walked toward the stairs, Jeff murmured, just quiet enough:

“Everything is set.”

I smiled behind my glasses and continued up the stairs, walking stick tapping softly against each step.

My part of the show was over, and act two was just about to begin.