2025-10-06 00:57:59
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The Confession
The late afternoon sunlight poured through the living-room window, wrapping the space in a mellow gold. Sophia had just finished making tea, the scent of rooibos mingling with a faint trace of cinnamon from the biscuits cooling on the counter. Barry sat quietly on the couch, his hands clasped, staring at nothing in particular. “Barry,” she said softly, handing him a cup. “You’ve been miles away all day. What’s going on in that head of yours?” He accepted the cup but didn’t drink. His thumb traced the rim absently. “Soph, there’s something I need to tell you. Something I should’ve told you weeks ago.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, searching his face. “You’re scaring me. What is it?” He took a deep breath. “My eyes. It’s about my eyes.” She froze. “Your eyes? What do you mean?” He set the cup down and leaned back, staring at the ceiling as if looking for strength there. “It’s hereditary — glaucoma. Runs in my family. I’ve known about it since my twenties, but it was always under co
The Awakening
When Barry left Sophia’s home that afternoon, the weight he had been carrying for the past week finally began to lift. The tension that had kept his chest tight had eased, replaced by something he hadn’t felt in a long time — contentment. The thought of losing Sophie had seemed worse than losing his sense of sight. He had even criticized himself when he was total darkness, by saying: "A man who lost a woman as good as Sophia surely lacked vision for his life." Sophia’s laughter still lingered in his ears. Her touch, light and sincere, had soothed the ache in him that no medicine could reach. For the first time since the experiment went wrong, Barry believed things might just return to normal. Yet as the sun glinted against the windscreen and the road stretched out before him, another thought stirred quietly in the back of his mind — his sight. That terrifying blindness. The nights of panic. And the miracle of its sudden return. What had really happened? He replayed the calcula
The Silence between them
The week felt endless. Sophia had stopped counting the days since Barry had driven off with that woman. The last she’d seen of him was the sleek car disappearing down the hill, his arm resting casually against the open window — the same arm that used to hold her close. She told herself she wasn’t jealous, just disappointed. But jealousy crept in quietly, like fog over the sea — soft, suffocating, impossible to ignore. His text messages were brief, polite, stripped of warmth. Hope you’re well. Busy week. Will explain soon. That wasn’t Barry. Her Barry sent voice notes, called her “Soph,” teased her about her morning coffee addiction. The messages she received now sounded like they came from a stranger. She’d tried calling once, twice, then stopped. Pride had its limits — and hers was fraying. Barry stood outside her flat with his hands buried deep in his pockets, heart hammering. Lauren had begged him to rest another day, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t let Sophia drift further a
Sophia's Suspicion
Sophia sat at the little wrought-iron table on her veranda, her phone in her hand, staring at the latest message from Barry. “Busy. Need rest. Don’t worry.” It didn’t sound like him at all. Barry never texted so curtly. His words were usually threaded with warmth, humour, even when he was under strain. But now every message felt clipped, hollow, as if the man on the other end was a stranger borrowing his voice. She read the earlier one again: “Staying with Lauren for a few days. Business, nothing serious.” Her jaw tightened. The words themselves weren’t damning, but the shadow they cast troubled her. Barry, staying with Lauren — the very same Lauren Sophia had seen him drive off with not two weeks ago, the picture of an elegant mystery woman behind his wheel. Sophia had told herself at the time to trust him, to believe his explanation that Lauren was simply his employee. And yet the image remained, etched into her mind: Barry’s strong profile behind the wheel, Lauren in the passe
A Wedge between Them
Barry awoke the following morning to the faint scrape of slippers against polished tiles. His head felt heavy, his eyes useless pools of darkness, and yet the smell of coffee brought him a kind of comfort. He straightened in bed, tightening his grip on the sheet, reminding himself that he had to keep control — even here, even in this helplessness. Lauren entered with a tray balanced carefully in her hands. “Good morning, sir,” she said, her voice bright and full of cheer. “I thought you might like breakfast in bed. Scrambled eggs, toast, and of course, coffee.” Barry tried to inject authority into his tone. “Lauren, I told you last night, no fussing. I’ll manage.” She set the tray across his lap with a smile he could not see but could feel in the air. “And I told you, I’m not about to leave you to fend for yourself. Not when you can’t even see where your fork is.” “That’s temporary,” he muttered. “Just until the drops wear off. A week, maybe less. And in that time, you will not b
A Chink in the Armour
Barry had completed his part in eliminating the Trojan horse and bolstered up his firewalls. Lauren was busy with the code for the military contract with the Department of Defence. The danger was averted and they had done good work He decided to continue with his pet project. He was feeling excited because he had been working on this project for five years and was now on the brink of success. Barry felt a little anxious as this was very secretive but it was going to life changing for countless people across the globe. Barry sat in the dim quiet of his office, the tiny bottle of medicated drops trembling between his fingers. The doctor’s words still rang in his ears—hereditary retinal degeneration. He had brushed them aside at first, convinced that money and sheer willpower could stave off any weakness. But the small print on the leaflet, the clinical inevitability, had unsettled him more than he would admit. He leaned back, squeezed a drop into his eye, and waited. At first nothing
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