Love Is Blind, I’m Not Chapter 04

I clenched my right hand to stop it from shaking, forcing my expression cold.

“Harris, remember I’m your fiancée’s best friend. If you truly love her, stop putting her in this position.”

Before Harris could snap another cruel remark, I turned and left.

The night wind bit through my clothes, making me shiver.

I’d perfected that massage technique when his stomach pain plagued him during his blindness. I’d bruised my own wrists practicing the right pressure until I found what soothed him.

Thinking of that, I thought of Nicole again.

She wasn’t malicious at all; she didn’t even know she’d taken credit for my care. I needed to write down all the ways to help Harris and send them to her soon.

Once Harris proposed to Nicole, that chapter of my life was officially over.

I would never chase after a friend’s lover. No matter how fiercely I once loved him, I would cut ties completely.

I returned to my rental apartment and lay awake all night, staring until dawn painted the sky pale.

I was on the edge of sleep when urgent pounding came from my front door.

I dragged myself up and opened it. Nicole grabbed my arm immediately.

“Felicity, come with me today to pick out party favors for our engagement. I can’t decide alone!”

I frowned. “What about Harris? Won’t he come with you?”

Nicole shook my arm gently. “He’s got a morning meeting at the firm. I came to get you while he’s gone.”

Looking at her hopeful face, I wanted to refuse.

But she added, “You’re my only friend, Felicity. You’re the only one I trust.”

Memories of her saving my father’s life flooded back. I nodded, telling myself this was the last time.

I’d thought we were heading to a shopping mall, but the car pulled into the underground garage of a luxury downtown penthouse instead.

I tightened my seatbelt. “Nicole, I thought we were picking party favors?”

Nicole nodded. “We are. Harris had dozens of catalogs delivered here. I couldn’t carry them all, so I asked you to come look through them with me.”

I massaged my temples. “Nicole, I really don’t want to set foot anywhere associated with Harris.”

Nicole nodded. “I know. That’s why I came while he’s at work.”

“I love him, yes, but you’re my best friend too. Am I supposed to drop you just because I’m with him?”

Her pleading expression silenced me. I couldn’t argue.

We stepped inside. The first thing I noticed was ingredients stacked in the kitchen.

I spoke without thinking. “What’s all that?”

Nicole answered innocently. “Harris wants me to make his oatmeal. He says no one else can get the taste right.”

I froze.

Harris was incredibly picky with food. When blind, he flew into rages constantly. I’d adjusted the ingredients countless times until I hit the flavor he tolerated.

Nicole’s attempt at oatmeal would never satisfy him.

A wave of helplessness hit me. One lie leads to a hundred more, and I had no way out.

I said to Nicole, “I took care of Dad through his illness. I know how to make this. Should I show you?”

Nicole brightened at once. “Yes! I knew you were amazing!”

I led her into the kitchen and walked her through the recipe, then filled the saucepan with milk to heat.

Once the milk boiled, I added oats from the pre-measured ingredients on the counter

“Nicole, make sure you remember these ratios. The amount of milk is the most important part.”

I watched her write everything down carefully and relaxed a little.

Soon, the sweet, creamy aroma of oatmeal filled the huge apartment.

Suddenly Harris’s cold voice rang from the kitchen doorway. “Felicity, why are you so impossible to shake off?”

I jerked my head up. The apartment was enormous; I hadn’t heard the front door open at all.

Nicole hurried over and slipped her arm through his, speaking in a coaxing tone. “I asked her over to help pick favors. I was just making oatmeal, so she helped me.”

Harris scoffed. He sniffed the air, and his smile vanished. His gaze locked onto me, icy.

Nicole’s phone rang right then. She glanced down. “Harris, I need to take a call from my family. Don’t be mean to Felicity!”

She walked out onto the balcony to answer, sliding the glass door shut behind her, leaving Harris and me alone in the kitchen.

Oatmeal bubbled softly inside the saucepan, steam curling upward, yet the air turned freezing.

Harris stood several steps away and spoke slowly. “That’s well made. For a second I almost thought…”

My heart jumped, and I held my breath.

But his tone turned sharp. “Dump it. When Nicole makes it, it actually means something to me. When you do it, it only disgusts me.”