"Close your eyes, I'm applying the medicine," she said.
He propped his arm on the edge of the pool, and Tabitha knelt beside him, her long hair cascading down as she leaned forward.
The faint scent of herbs grew stronger—Derek was certain she was the one who'd tended to him that night.
"This might feel a bit cold," Tabitha warned softly.
"Alright," he replied.
Using a wooden stick, she spread the medicinal liquid evenly across his eyes and gently wrapped them with bandages. With his sight obscured, Derek's demeanor softened noticeably.
"I could see vague shapes before, but now I can't see a thing," he remarked.
"Once you recover, you can see anything you want," Tabitha assured him.
Derek suddenly spoke, "Right now, the person I most want to see is you."
Tabitha's heart skipped a beat. Derek added, "Without you this time, I'd probably be dead. You're my savior, and I'm truly grateful. I'll find a way to repay you once I'm better."
For some reason, Tabitha's mind drifted to clichéd "hero saves beauty" plots—where women declare, "I have no way to repay you, so I'll offer myself to you." But they had parted ways, each moving on. The thought of him marrying someone else still stirred an indescribable feeling in her heart.
Perhaps it was regret.
She had loved this man since her student days, once fantasizing about growing old with him and enjoying domestic bliss. In the early days of their marriage, she had been completely devoted to him, never imagining their marriage would shatter or that other women would enter his life.
Reality, however, was brutally harsh and unexpected.
Tabitha composed herself and asked in a neutral tone, "How do you plan to repay me?"
"That depends on you—what do you want?" Derek countered.
Tabitha's first thought was Kyrian—she wanted custody of her son. Would Derek grant it?
"I will ask for what I want in the future," she said.
Derek pressed on, "Your accent sounds like you're from the US. What's your real name?"
"Vanessa. Just call me Vanessa."
"If you weren't raised in the US, your accent wouldn't be this authentic."
Tabitha's irritation flared. "Why are you asking so many questions? Are you planning to propose some melodramatic gesture like 'I'm so indebted to you, I must wed you'?"
"I might want to marry, but it's up to you to agree," Derek said.
Tabitha's annoyance grew. Despite his claims of loving only one person, he was clearly a philanderer—how many others had he charmed in the shadows?
"Rest assured, I'd rather marry a stray dog than you," Tabitha snapped, turning to stoke the fire with vigorous strokes of the fan.
Derek, however, chuckled inwardly—Tabitha, I knew you still cared.
How could two people who once loved so deeply simply forget each other?
Yet his smile faded quickly. Too much had transpired between them, creating a chasm that left her hesitant to step closer. Derek sighed deeply.
As Tabitha fanned the fire, she entertained the thought of altering the medicine to mute him temporarily—to prevent him from flirting with others.
But upon reflection, she found the idea absurd—what right did she have to dictate whom he romanced? Three years of silence had likely led him to assume she was gone forever. Could she demand his fidelity?
People often mend themselves after being hurt.
Behind her, the sound of water splashing caught Tabitha's attention. Fearing he might slip, she turned to see the man rising from the spring, wrapped in a robe. His fingers fumbled with the non-existent tie, unaware that the belt lay just out of reach.
Tabitha realized the belt was nearby. Since Derek was blind, he couldn't find it.
Tabitha resigned herself to the task, setting down the fan and picking up the belt. "Don't move," she said sharply, approaching him.
Derek stood still as Tabitha's hands circled his waist, threading the belt through the robe. Water droplets still clung to his chest, trailing down his throat and vanishing beneath the robe's collar.
Tabitha's cheeks flushed as she tightened the belt.
Derek held his breath—so close, he could easily pull her into his embrace.
With deft fingers, Tabitha tied a bow at his waist. "There," she said, giving the knot a final tug. "Rest here for a while. You'll need to eat something to regain your strength."
The cave was well-equipped, clearly a place she frequented.
Derek wondered if this was where she'd treated her illness years ago. How had she managed alone with their child all these years?
Questions swirled in his mind, but he knew some mysteries would reveal themselves in time.
No sooner had he lain down than the sound of a bell reached his ears.
Derek's heart skipped a beat—it was Hedwig!
Though he hadn't yet confirmed her birthday, in his heart, he already considered her his daughter.
He lay still, listening to the bell draw nearer until it halted beside him.
A small hand gently touched his face, and Derek's heart raced—"Does Hedwig know I'm her father?"