Chapter 2: Broken Promises, Shattered Pride

He wasn’t about to waste words. He’d seen enough. “Let’s not stick around with people who don’t deserve your time.” His voice wrapped around me, not like a blanket, but like a shield—solid, unyielding. For the first time all night, I could finally breathe.

I managed a shaky smile. “…Okay.” The relief was so strong it almost made me dizzy. The weight of the night started to ease, replaced by something lighter—a sense that maybe, just maybe, I’d make it through this.

My cane tapped the floor as I moved toward him. As I passed Emily, she stuck out her foot, trying to trip me. I stumbled, heart pounding, anger sparking hot in my chest. I caught myself, refusing to give her the satisfaction.

“Autumn!”

Mason’s voice rang out, full of concern that sounded almost real. His hand caught my waist, steadying me for a second. For a heartbeat, I almost believed he still cared. But then I remembered everything that had happened, and the illusion shattered.

“If we’re done, then act like it. You should keep an eye on the woman beside you.”

Carter brushed Mason’s hand away, steadying me himself. His touch was gentle but firm, grounding me. He didn’t say a word, but I could feel his support in the way he stood beside me.

In the old days, if someone messed with me, Mason would’ve exploded. Tonight, he just swallowed hard and muttered, “What’s done is done. Let’s not dwell on the past.”

He was talking about the necklace I’d left on the table.

“Then toss it.”

I felt hollow, my voice barely more than a breath. I walked back, picked up the necklace, and dropped it into the trash. The sound echoed in my ears, final—a tiny rebellion against everything I’d lost.

The night breeze drifted in through the car window, cool and sharp, cutting through the ache in my chest. For the first time all evening, I felt like I could actually breathe. “Thank you, Carter.”

Carter had just come back from overseas, risking Mason’s wrath to stand up for me. He’d left the year of the earthquake—it had been three years since we’d seen each other. I’d given everything to Mason, and whatever I’d felt for Carter had faded long ago. Realizing that brought an unexpected peace, like closing the last page of a book you loved and finally letting go.

“I heard your dad’s into antiques. Mine just picked up a set of Civil War silver at auction. I’ll bring it by your place sometime.” I said it instead of just a plain thank you, not wanting to sound too stiff. The words felt awkward, but Carter just laughed, the sound warm and easy.

He paused, then said softly, “Autumn, you don’t have to be polite with me.” There was something unspoken in his voice, a thread of meaning I couldn’t quite catch. For a moment, I wondered if I’d missed something, if there was more beneath his words.

Maybe I was imagining things, but I thought I heard a flicker of disappointment in his voice. It was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual laid-back charm.

“Here, your birthday present.”

He pressed a rectangular box into my hands. The wrapping paper was smooth, the ribbon tied just right. I smiled, grateful for the distraction, for the normalcy of a gift.

“Thanks. Is this… a necklace?” I joked. “Out with the old, in with the new, huh?” My voice wobbled, but Carter just squeezed my hand, his touch steady and reassuring.

He didn’t laugh. Instead, he was quiet for a long moment, then asked, “How have you really been these last three years?” His question caught me off guard, the concern in his voice genuine. I hesitated, not sure what to say.

I sensed the air shift—he must have waved a hand in front of my face. I couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. “Don’t bother, Carter. I really can’t see.” I tried to keep my tone light, but there was a sadness underneath that I couldn’t hide.

Carter’s fist clenched. “If I’d known Mason would turn out like this…” His anger surprised me, the depth of his protectiveness making my chest ache. For a moment, I wondered what life would have been like if he’d never left.

Carter had always been the easygoing one, quick with a joke. This was the first time I’d ever heard him sound so angry. It caught me off guard, but it also warmed me, knowing someone still cared enough to be mad for my sake.

“From tonight on, I’m done with him.”

My voice was soft but certain. Seven years—from eighteen to twenty-five—I’d loved him with everything I had. Now, I was letting go. The decision felt final, a bold line drawn in the sand.

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

Carter hesitated, voice rough. “Autumn, you should… keep your heart open.” The words lingered between us, heavy and full of meaning. I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I took comfort in them and smiled.

I took comfort in his words and managed a smile. Outside, the city was quiet, the lights blurring into a soft haze behind my closed eyes. For the first time in ages, hope flickered in my chest.

“By the way.”

The car hummed to life as Carter changed the subject.

“You know there’s still a chance your eyes could be fixed, right?” His tone was casual, but I could hear the hope behind it, the way he wanted to believe there was still a way forward.

“Yeah, but it’s risky. If the surgery fails, I could end up with brain damage.”

I turned toward the window. No matter how hard I tried, all I saw was darkness.

“My parents have tried everything—every connection, every specialist. Nothing worked.”

Hope had faded a long time ago. The endless appointments, the false promises, the heartbreak of each failed treatment—they’d hollowed me out, left me numb.

Carter’s voice was calm, almost clinical. “With most of your optic nerve gone, it’s tough, but not impossible. With the right surgeon, maybe overseas, it’s worth a shot.” He sounded so sure, so certain that anything could be fixed if you just tried hard enough. I wanted to believe him, but I was too tired to hope anymore.

I let out a bitter laugh. “There’s a world-famous eye surgeon in the States, Dr. Lucica, but she’s retired now. I heard even a fortune can’t get her.” The words tasted bitter, a reminder of all the doors that had slammed shut in my face.

“Not necessarily.” Carter’s tone turned sly. If I could have seen, I bet he was smiling, waiting for me to catch on. “Funny thing—when I was studying in Boston, Dr. Lucica was my mentor.”

…