Page 67 of Crushed Vow

His mouth tilted in a bitter smile. “My sight’s gone.”

I turned back fully, shock spreading cold through my veins.

“What?”

“I lost it in the fire,” he said. “It was already failing. The damage started after you left. I stood on a cliff most nights, wondering if it was time to jump.”

I froze, stomach twisting.

“I chained my therapist to me. Told him to stop me if I ever climbed the rail.”

“Cassian...”

“Don’t pity me,” he said coldly. “This is what I deserve. I broke you, Charlotte. The eyes I used to mock your scars... the ones that watched you fall apart and did nothing—I’m glad they’re gone.”

“Then how did you even walk in here?”

“These glasses help a little. The world’s just... shadows and light now. I can’t see your scars anymore, Charlotte. But your face is carved into me.”

I felt like my ribs cracked.

“How will you even live like this?” I asked.

“I’ll manage. As long as I know you’re safe, I can breathe.”

I took a step back. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t fall again. I wouldn’t.

“Well, if you need help, call the staff. Not me.”

He nodded once. “Fair. But if you need anything... even just a voice in the dark... call me.”

I left without another word.

But his broken voice stayed with me.

The new house was sterile and quiet.

The kind of quiet that made your ears ring—like grief after a funeral.

Cassian’s men had stocked it with food, clothes, even toiletries I hadn’t asked for. Everything in its place. Perfect. Controlled.

Like him.

I stood in the center of the living room, staring at nothing. The windows overlooked the lawn, the driveway, the house across the estate.

His house.

I should’ve drawn the curtains. Should’ve turned away. But instead, I stood there and watched.

He was sitting in his garden. Alone.

A blanket draped over his legs. Those strange glasses still on his face. His shoulders hunched in that way they only did when he was in pain.

It hit me then—just how blind he really was.

Not just figuratively. But truly, physically lost in his own home, in the aftermath of everything he’d destroyed.

I should’ve hated him.