Three Years Blind, One Song Broken Chapter 02
Early the next morning, even though I’d already called out for the day, the clinic phoned me in a panic.
Jackson Vale was causing a scene.
By the time I arrived, his voice was already cold enough to freeze the room.
“If Mira Quinn doesn’t show up in the next five minutes,” he said evenly, “every person in this clinic can start looking for a new job.”
My footsteps paused outside the door.
Then I pushed it open.
“Don’t make things difficult for them. I’m here.”
The room instantly fell silent.
Jackson turned toward me.
“Come here.”
His tone was sharp. Commanding.
“You’re leaving with me.”
I didn’t move.
“I won’t repeat myself.”
A faint smile tugged at my lips.
“And if I say no? What are you planning to take from me this time?”
The sound of glass cracking split the room.
Jackson had crushed the whiskey glass in his hand.
I lowered my eyes slightly.
Finally.
The mask was cracking.
—
Jackson and I grew up together.
After my parents died in a car accident when I was ten, the Vales took me in.
Back then, all I did was cry.
Jackson—two years older than me—was the one who reached out his hand.
And once he grabbed it, he never let go for ten years.
His friends changed girlfriends constantly.
But beside him, it was always me.
On my twentieth birthday, he dragged me straight to the county courthouse first thing in the morning.
I laughed at him for acting like an overeager golden retriever.
He tucked our marriage license inside his jacket like it was treasure.
“I waited ten years for you,” he’d said, grinning. “No way I’m letting somebody steal you from me now.”
“My wife belongs close to me.”
At our wedding, I remember turning around while holding my dress—only to find Jackson already crying harder than I was.
He wrapped both arms around me and swore through shaking breaths, “Mimi, it’s only ever gonna be you.”
Back then, I believed him.
Completely.
After we got married, I mentioned once that I liked spicy Southern food, so he secretly learned how to cook it himself.
I liked walking barefoot around the house, so he covered the entire floor in thick carpets just so I wouldn’t get cold.
Some mornings, he even squeezed toothpaste onto my toothbrush before I woke up.
Those years felt so sweet it was almost unreal.
Like living inside a dream someone else would eventually wake me from.
And they did.
The first crack came when Jackson disappeared into work for an entire month.
I worried about him constantly.
So one night, I made soup and brought it to his office myself.
The moment I pushed open the door, I froze.
Jackson sat on the couch with his collar half open.
A girl was straddling his lap.
A cigarette burned lazily between her fingers as she kissed him like she owned him.
My entire body went numb.
“Jackson… what the hell are you doing?”
He snapped back to reality instantly and stood up fast enough to nearly shove her aside.
“Mimi?”
He reached for the soup container in my hands.
“Baby, why are you here?”
My voice shook.
“Who is she?”
“She’s basically one of the guys,” he said casually, stepping toward me to grab my hand.
I jerked away immediately.
“Do your guy friends usually kiss you in their laps too?”
The girl suddenly laughed and walked over.
“So you’re the wife Jace never shuts up about.”
Her voice carried effortless confidence.
“I’m Sloane Mercer. Jace and I are just friends, seriously.”
Then she tilted my chin upward with her fingers and leaned closer with a teasing smile.
“You’re gorgeous, though. Honestly? I’d marry you too.”
I frowned and shoved her away.
Sloane only laughed harder.
“Relax. I’m into women.”
She pulled out her phone and flashed me a photo of herself with another girl.
“I promise, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
I looked uncertainly toward Jackson.
“Is she telling the truth?”
He wrapped an arm around my waist and smiled.
“Of course she is.”
“Mimi, if there was really something between us, why would I marry you?”
“That kiss meant nothing. Don’t overthink it.”
I looked between them for a long time.
Then, stupidly—
I chose to believe him.
After that, Sloane appeared everywhere.
She draped herself over Jackson constantly. Sat in his lap. Walked around his place in oversized shirts with no pants like she lived there.
Every time I got uncomfortable, Jackson brushed it off.
“She’s one of my closest friends.”
“You’re acting jealous over nothing.”
“She has girlfriends. Why are you making this weird?”
Eventually, even I started wondering if maybe I was the problem.
Sloane was always sweet to me. She brought me gifts. Called me “sis” affectionately. Little by little, I convinced myself not to be petty.
I even started treating her like a real friend.
Whenever I cooked, I made extra for her.
If I went shopping, I bought things for her too.
On her birthday, I spent hours baking her cake from scratch.
I really thought she cared about me…until our first wedding anniversary.
Jackson had supposedly been overseas negotiating a business deal.
Wanting to surprise him, I bought lingerie, wrapped his gift myself, and tracked down one of his friends to find out where he was staying.
But the second I arrived, his friend’s expression turned strange.
“Mira… maybe you shouldn’t go.”
The smile slowly froze on my face.
“What are you talking about?”
He inhaled deeply before looking away.
“Jackson’s not overseas.”
My heartbeat stopped.
“He’s been in Blackwater City this whole time.”
“With Sloane.”