I trembled violently, biting my lip hard, and only managed to keep myself from crying out when I tasted the blood in my mouth.
Seven years.
I lived in anonymity for him, developed stomach problems from staying up all night for him, designed countless best-selling products for him, and grew his company from a small workshop to a scale where its market value doubled. I thought what I was holding in the palm of my hand was love, but I never expected it to be nothing more than a complete exploitation and manipulation.
I was so angry that I couldn't support myself and staggered, making a slight noise.
The sounds in the master bedroom suddenly stopped.
I pretended to have just returned, groping my way out with my hand, my voice hoarse and fragile, carrying just the right amount of fear and helplessness:
“Liam… are you home? I can’t see anymore, I’m blind, I’m so scared… I searched for so long before I finally found my way home…”
The master bedroom door was suddenly pulled open, and warm yellow light, carrying an ambiguous atmosphere, poured out, making my eyes sting and ache.