Until I Saw You

UNTIL I SAW YOUDIANNA ROMAN Copyright © 2023 DIANNA ROMANAll rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, trademarks, and places are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are only used for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, or used in any matter without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews. The scanning, uploading, or distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. For information address [email protected] Published by Wild One Press Cover design by Wild One Press Cover images: Lens flare, white flare light by Mario Szafran from QUQA Design / Canva.com1128134789 by Tyschchenko Photography / Shutterstock.com ISBN: 978-1-959553-01-04 (Trade Paperback) ISBN: 987-1-959-553-02-1 (Large Print Paperback)ISBN: 978-1-959553-00-7 (eBook) CONTENT ADVISORYThis novel contains the following topics and terms that may trigger sensitive reactions in some readers. Please read at your own discretion.Off-page sexual assault, discussions of sexual assault Physical and emotional domestic abuse On-page physical altercation Both preferred and slang terminology regarding low vision and sighted persons Explicit consensual sexual content Adult language, profanity A DOG NAMED LARRY This book contains a dog named Larry, who is also referred to by the following names during the story:Jedidiah Jed Zeke Boomer Eisenhower Copernicus Kevin Barkus Maximus José Bruce Bartholomew Marlon Russell DEDICATIONTo victims of abuse—You are neither what they say you are nor how they make you feel.You can be what they say you can’t.You can do what they say you can’t.You can’t can. CHAPTER 1RileyThe blonde blob shifts in my field of vision, cascading a halo of silver-gray light with shards of white around it from the vanity bulbs. She’s been standing at that mirror for thirty minutes. I never paid attention to how long it takes her to get ready until I had nothing to distract me during the wait. That’s all I seem to do these days—wait like a piece of carry-on luggage, idly standing by an occupied traveler.I don’t really know why I’m standing here, staring into this murky abyss that I could literally see by looking at anything else in the apartment. Maybe because she seems like one of those science documentaries that you can’t understand. Why else? I mean, what’s the point in watching, if you don’t get to see the reward? And who in the hell is she primping for because it sure as shit ain’t me?The audible sound of her lips smacking precedes the clatter of more beauty crap on my counter. It’s probably best that I can’t see how much of my bathroom she’s taken over. I’m constantly knocking things onto the floor whenever I wash my hands or try to find my razor. Speaking of which, she swears she didn’t use it on her legs and that the nicks I can feel on my face must be because of my inability to shave properly now that I’m blind. I’m calling bullshit on that one.“Almost done, babe,” she says yet again. “Then we’ll get you ready.”I respond with a grunt from the doorway like a good piece of luggage. I can get myself ready just fine, but it’s one argument I’ve learned to avoid. They say when you lose your sight that it doesn’t heighten your other senses. Whoever believes that hasn’t heard Valerie’s sighs when I commit the heinous crime of rummaging something out of my dresser myself. I can’t work anymore. What the fuck is so wrong with sweatpants and t-shirts when you’ve got nothing to do but lounge around the house all day?When Val said she was coming to stay to help me out three months ago, my dumbass kind of thought it was for the weekend. My buddy, Rob, said because we’d been dating for eight months at the time, that should have been a red flag—code for moving in. I still owe him twenty bucks, but fuck if I’m owning up to that oversight. I mean, how the hell did he call that shit? The guy hasn’t had a girlfriend that lasted longer than a week in the ten years I’ve known him.I think I’m standing here hoping I can see proof of my twenty-dollar loss. That, and if I’m going to be gifted with a precious moment of vision, I want to know what my half an hour of leaning on this door frame resulted in.I saw her yesterday. It was only for about a minute when I woke up in the morning. It’s the first time in two weeks since the last time it happened. The doctor said he doesn’t expect it to last, but Val has hope.I think there’s some universal rule that says you’re supposed to cherish people who have hope in you, but it’s not really hope in me. Is it? It’s just hope that I won’t be a helpless liability anymore. It’s hope that I’ll be the guy who can tell her she looks beautiful, the guy who can fly her through downtown on my motorcycle instead of the one she has to buckle into the passenger seat of her Prius.I hate that fucking Prius, and if I ever find that vanilla air freshener she has in there, I’m pitching it out the window on the freeway. The only acceptable vanilla scent comes from cookies. Everyone knows this.I didn’t tell her this time. Not about the air freshener, about seeing her drooling on my pillow, her purple eye mask askew over her eyes, clear as day in the morning light for sixty seconds. I should have been happy. Right? I got to see my girlfriend’s face. I don’t resent her, but there was nothing—no warm fuzzy feelings other than