A Final Farewell
That day, to shield Caleb Lewis, I took the enemy's blade in his stead. The moment the knife's edge sliced across my eyeball, I heard his heart-rending cry of my name, and his vow that I would be his belief for this lifetime.
In the end, he truly did it—at least, in the beginning, he did.
His left arm bore the character "Stacy"—my name; on the nape of his neck was inscribed the date we first met, June 18, 2015; Even over the place closest to his heart, a small sun was tattooed, saying it was me, the one who could light up his life.
Whenever I touched the sun on his chest, he would pull me close, resting his chin atop my head.
"Stacy, this way, every beat of my heart revolves around you."
I once believed this would last a lifetime—until the night before our wedding.
That day, I had simmered the corn and pork rib soup he loved, sitting on the living room sofa, waiting for him to come home.
The clock on the wall struck eleven, and finally, the sound of keys turning echoed from the entrance.
I had just risen to go warm the soup in the kitchen when I saw, beneath the open collar of his shirt, the skin over his chest was freshly red and swollen—the sun emblem that had accompanied him for three years was gone.
In its place was the profile of a stranger, the outline of a girl's face, her features soft, a tiny mole at the tail of her brow, radiating a fragile, pitiable sorrow at first sight.
My fingertips went instantly cold, my steps heavy as if weighted with lead as I moved before him, my fingers hovering just above his heart, unable to dare touch.
"Caleb Lewis, who is this?"
He suddenly gripped my wrist, his strength nearly crushing my bones, his voice cold as the winter wind that slashes through my chest with pain.
"Don't touch!"
I stood frozen where I was, watching helplessly as he lowered his head and carefully wiped that tattoo with the pad of his finger, as if it were dust from a rare, priceless treasure.
He did not explain a word, only silently passed me by and walked straight into the guest room, closing the door with a bang, shutting out the last trace of warmth between us.
That night, I sat alone in the empty living room; the pork rib soup had grown cold, droplets of condensation clinging to the porcelain bowl's exterior, mirroring my heart sinking deeper with each passing moment.
At dawn, I touched the scar near my right eye and suddenly recalled how he used to say it was the medal of our love — now, it felt like nothing but a bitter joke.
At the wedding the next day, he stood before me, reeking of smoke, his eyes still bloodshot.
The makeup artist had just finished touching up my makeup, but my uncontrollable tears blurred it once again.
"Stacy, she is a good person." He reached out to wipe my tears, but I turned my head away to avoid him.
"She was cut on the palm trying to save me; this tattoo is the promise between us."
Suddenly, I laughed, tears rolling down from my blind right eye, falling onto the hem of the wedding dress, spreading a small, damp stain.
That eye could barely shed tears anymore, but that day, tears fell like beads slipping from broken strings.
"Caleb Lewis, have you forgotten how I lost my eye?"
His movements froze, his eyes flickering as if struggling to recall.
But I remember clearly: that day, he knelt beside my hospital bed, repeatedly kissing my right eye wrapped in bandages, his voice trembling uncontrollably.
"Stacy, don't be afraid. If you cannot see, then I will be your eyes."
"For the rest of my life, I will be with you."
Those words still ring in my ears, yet now, for another girl, he has shattered our past into fragments.
He said nothing more of the past, only bent down and gently pressed his lips to my cheek, the touch cold as ice.
"Stacy, I will love you forever."
At the perfect moment, the MC's clear, resonant voice rang out: "Groom, please place the wedding ring of love on the bride's finger!"
Numbly, I extended my hand, my fingertips tinged with cold.
Nine years have passed— from when he was a poor boy who couldn't even pay his rent, to Mr. Lewis now, capable of hosting a grand wedding. I have poured almost all my strength into standing by his side.
To help him secure investment, I drank with clients for seven days straight until my stomach bled and I was rushed to the hospital; to gain acceptance from the Lewis Family for him, I fought with my parents and was cast out of my home; When he was wanted by the rival faction, I went alone to negotiate, trading one of my eyes for his safety.
Moreover, our Nola sat silently in the audience, her small frame upright, her hair braided into pigtails I had fashioned that very morning, proudly chatting with the children beside her.
"Look! The most beautiful on stage is my mother, and the most handsome is my father!"
That clear, bright voice reached me through the noisy crowd. My throat tightened, and just as I was about to smile at her, Caleb Lewis's men broke in frantically, shattering the moment.
"Mr. Lewis! It's urgent! Ms. Ruby... Ms. Ruby is about to marry overseas!"
Ruby—the girl whose name was inked into the tattoo—was named Ruby.
I watched with my own eyes as the delicate diamond ring slipped from Caleb Lewis's fingertip, clinking sharply against the floor—a sound so clear, yet it struck my heart like a hammer blow.
He didn't hesitate for even a moment, turning abruptly to leave, the hem of his suit brushing against my wrist.
"Stacy, I can't watch her marry a man she doesn't love. I have to save her."
Once, I believed the happiness I held so firmly would endure, but in an instant, it dissolved into a fleeting illusion.
Instinctively, I reached out to grasp his sleeve; the fabric's texture remained unchanged, yet the man within had long since become someone else.
"Caleb Lewis!" I called after him, my voice trembling with a vulnerability I hadn't even noticed, "The ceremony needs only three more minutes to conclude. Are you truly willing to abandon me here alone for a woman who means nothing to you?"
I tried to keep my voice steady, but each word carried the most humble of pleas.
"If you dare cross the threshold of this hall, from this moment on, we will be completely severed."
"Give me just these three minutes, and then I will set you free."
His footsteps faltered, and he turned back.
His face grew pale as death, a troubled gaze resting on mine for a few seconds, as if weighing something deeply.
But in the end, he still shook his head.
"I'm sorry. For her happiness, I cannot wait any longer."
At his words, my heart was abruptly seized, the pain constricting me until I could barely breathe.
As the door was violently thrown open, the startled cries of children rose from below the stage. I looked toward the sound and saw Nola's small figure trembling, her face—once radiant with pride and happiness—suddenly drained of all color.
Dragging the heavy wedding dress behind me, I rushed down the stage recklessly, my high heels striking the steps in a frantic clatter.
Just as I crouched down, intending to hold her close and comfort her, I heard her gag, and fresh blood spilled from her lips, staining the pristine hem of my wedding dress.
"Mama..." she weakly grasped the edge of my clothes, her eyes brimming with fear, "Why did Papa leave?"
I held her close, tears falling onto her hair, unable to utter a single word.
The lights in the hospital corridor were harshly pale, glaring. I pushed Nola's stretcher, running forward; the nurse beside me kept shouting, "Family, please don't panic," but how could I not panic?
That was my very life.
Until the operating room door slammed shut with force, the red "In Surgery" light glowing, cutting me off entirely.
I leaned against the cold wall, my strength fading as I slid down, finally sitting on the floor. The chill of the tiles seeped through my thin wedding dress, freezing me to the bone.
With trembling fingers, I dialed Caleb Lewis's number—once, twice, ten times... The busy signal, unanswered, stabbed at my heart like countless little knives.
I lost track of time until hurried footsteps echoed from the corridor's end.
I looked up to see Caleb, drenched in sweat, running toward me; strands of hair soaked and clinging helplessly to his forehead.
In that moment, my deadened heart gave a pitiful twitch, a faint flicker of warmth blossoming—he had come, after all.
I felt as though I had grasped a lifeline, stumbling forward and clutching his arm: "Caleb, Nola caught a bacterial infection from her cold yesterday; just now, she vomited blood. The doctor said it's acute organ failure, and they need a family member's signature, and also..."
"Where is the money?" He suddenly cut me off, gripping my shoulders tightly with both hands, his eyes bloodshot, every word charged with urgent anxiety.
"The money I gave you? That bank card—where did you hide it?"
"Ruby Scott married a local tycoon. I have to crash the wedding—I must have the money!"
The corridor lights flickered suddenly, dimming, yet with the last of my left eye's sight, I discerned every trace of torment upon his face — a torment utterly separate from me and from Nola.
My heart plunged, sinking into an endless ice cellar.
I raised my hand and struck him fiercely across the face; the sharp slap resounded through the empty corridor.
"Caleb Lewis!" My voice was hoarse, carrying the metallic taste of blood. "Your daughter lies inside, her life hanging in the balance! You remain unmoved, deaf to her, caring only for your fiancee you strive to save, far away abroad?"
He turned his face away, his gaze finally settling on the operating room door glowing red before him, yet his tone carried an unsettling calmness, as if it were all perfectly natural.
"With you by the child's side, I can rest assured. But Ruby Scott is alone abroad, with no one to rely on—she has only me."
Seeing my silence, he seemed provoked and suddenly shouted in anger, "Stacy Shaw! As a woman yourself, how can your heart be so cruel, so cold-blooded!"
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