“No. I have a better idea.”

“What?”

“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.

And this time, whatever challenges waited ahead, we were determined to face them together.

THE END.!