“Let’s use it.”
“For what?”
I smiled.
“A vacation.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Where would you like to go?”
“Somewhere with a beautiful view.”
Three weeks later, we spent a quiet weekend by the coast.
Ashton stood beside me as the late-afternoon sunlight shimmered across the ocean.
The horizon was still blurry, but I could distinguish the movement of the water and the bright sky above it.
And when I turned toward my husband, I could finally recognize the familiar shape of his smile.
“Is it beautiful?” he asked.
I slipped my hand into his.
“Yes,” I whispered. “It really is.”
For two years, I’d hoped to regain my eyesight.
But as I stood beside the ocean that evening, I understood something I hadn’t expected.
My recovering vision hadn’t saved our marriage.
What brought us closer again was learning to recognize each other’s struggles, speak openly about difficult feelings, and accept help when we needed it.
