Episode 19

Adam: Sara smiles and cries as she feels the wind touch her face.

Sara, what's wrong?

Sara: You wouldn't understand, Adam.

I speak anxiously.

Adam: Try me.

Sara: I've come to accept my condition, but it's just so awful to feel the breeze and not be able to see the view. I can sense you beside me, yet I have no idea if you're looking at me or even paying attention to what I'm saying. It's dark and lonely, Adam. Alan attacked me, and I didn't stand a chance, couldn't defend myself from his blows; it's always like that.

Adam: I ponder Sara's words for a moment.

Sara, is there any chance of regaining your sight?

Sara: Glaucoma damages the optic nerve, and the injury it causes is irreversible.

I feel Adam's hand touch my face, wiping away my tears gently.

Adam: How did it get to the point of losing your vision if glaucoma is treatable?

Sara: It progressed quickly. I used the eye drops even though they stung upon application, but it wasn't enough, especially because the diagnosis came too late.

Adam: I'm sorry to hear that.

I had hoped Sara would say there was a way for her to see again, but her answer left me shattered.

Sara: Adam pulls me into his chest, and I stay quiet.

Adam: The sky is blue, cloudless, and the sun sits on the right. We're moving along a busy street with many buildings, some of them quite tall...

I describe our entire route to Sara, who turns her face outward and closes her eyes. She's likely picturing it all in her head — to see it and yet be unable to do anything about it must be painfully harsh. We make our way to the garden, and I help her down.

Sara: Where are we?

Adam: Conservatory Garden, it's a garden, Sara.

Sara: My goodness, what a wonderful scent. Don’t torture me, Adam; let me see.

Adam holds my hand, and we walk toward the garden. I can hear birds, the sound of the fountain, and passersby.

Adam: We are near a fountain with a bronze statue in the middle; it features three women who seem to be dancing hand in hand surrounded by many flowers.

Sara: Adam leads me towards the flowers, and I can take in their fragrance.

Adam: I don't know the names of these flowers, but they're colorful. There are pink, red, yellow, white, and purple ones. Lots of different kinds, and there are several butterflies hovering around them.

Sara: I love butterflies; they are my favorites!

Adam: The butterflies are orange and black, landing on the flowers. Wait, hold still.

Sara: What is it?

I ask, motionless.

Adam: A butterfly has landed on your shoulder; I'm going to take a picture.

Sara smiles beautifully, and I capture the photo.

Sara: Did you get it, the picture?

Adam: Turned out beautiful, Sara.

Sara: I blush at Adam's compliment, the first one he's ever given me. We continue walking, and he details everything for me, helping me visualize this enchanting place.

I could live here.

Adam: We could make a garden at the mansion, Sara.

Sara: Haven't the dogs destroyed it?

Adam: Dogs?

Sara: The fierce dogs that are let loose at night.

Adam: Who told you that, Sara? I don't have dogs.

Sara looks confused.

Sara: I begin to laugh.

I used to be so scared of leaving the house at night. A garden would be amazing, but I would want to create it, to get my hands dirty, literally.

Adam: I sit on the bench with Sara.

Sara: Adam, let me get to know you, let me touch your face and see what you're like.

Adam takes my hands and places them on his face.

Adam: Sara runs her hands gently over my face. I feel choked up, holding my breath due to her closeness. As she smiles, tracing each feature of my face, all I want is to kiss her.

Sara: Your hair is smooth and soft. Is your beard just stubble, or do you wear one?

Adam: I have a beard, Sara.

Sara: Adam narrates his eye color, hair color, skin tone, and I build his image in my mind. I stand up with him, ready to leave.

You're a handsome man, Adam.

Adam: I gaze at Sara and give a slight, appreciative side smile for her compliment.

Would you like to have lunch out?

Sara: Yes.

I reply excitedly.

Adam: You have a psychiatrist appointment tomorrow.

Sara's excitement dissolves, and she becomes sad.

Sara: That means opening old wounds. It still hurts to talk about it, it hurts a lot. Can you come to the appointment with me?

Adam: Everything you've gone through is my fault, Sara, and I'm deeply sorry. I promised I'd be by your side, and I will be for as long as you allow me.

Sara: I listen carefully to Adam's words, wondering if he's changed his behavior towards me out of pity. My heart aches; I never wanted to be a burden to anyone, but that's what I've become. Mileide told me so often that no one would ever love me, that they’d only be with me out of pity; it's scarred my soul. Sadly, she wasn't wrong. I've talked so much about my pain to Adam that it's only natural for him to feel sorry for me.

Adam: Damn, I shouldn't have brought it up now, just as Sara was feeling joyful. Thinking about having to recount her experience with Alan to the psychiatrist must be making her relive the trauma.

Sara, I will be there for you, helping you through all this.

Sara: I want to leave.

Adam: Don't you want to eat out anymore?

Sara: No... please.

Tears fall despite my efforts to hold them back, further proving Mileide's point—I can't even serve as a decent doorstop, only causing trouble and being a burden to those around me.

Adam: I realize it was a bad idea to carry Sara like a sack over my shoulder and instead lift her in my arms. I walk to the car, at a loss as to how to soothe her. All I want is to comfort her, but I don't even know how. How can I be selfish enough to want Sara in my life if I can't even take care of her properly? She's so gentle and tender. I don't deserve her, I know it, and I need to do what's right for her.

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