The Husband Removed Our Son's Cornea By Himself

My husband, Adrian Hardy, was a renowned ophthalmologist, highly respected across the province. Recently, he took on a young girl named Enid as a patient—an orphan who had no family left. Adrian didn’t just treat her condition; he looked after her as if she were his own daughter, caring for her with a tenderness that went beyond his professional duty.

One evening, he approached me with an idea, his face filled with hopeful anticipation. “Lorie,” he said gently, “why don’t we adopt Enid? This way, you wouldn’t have to go through the pain of childbirth again.”

I was taken aback. His sincere eyes and excitement made it hard for me to turn him down. I just couldn’t find the words to refuse; my hesitation left me silent. That very night, Adrian took Enid home and moved her into our son’s room. He stayed by her side all night long, barely leaving for even a moment.

Enid was sensitive and seemed wary of me and our son. My husband drove me and our son out of the house to make her feel comfortable and so he could continue her treatment.

Holding my son as he sulked, I did my best to ease his mind. “She’s just not feeling well. We’ll stay somewhere else for a while and once she’s better, we’ll come back.”

Two weeks later, that girl regained her sight. But in an ironic twist, our son suddenly lost his. It was strange since both of them had undergone surgery on the very same day, in the same hospital and even with the same surgeon.

***

Adrian was always captivated by my eyes, even from the moment we first met. When he saw me for the first time, he stared at me, his own eyes welling with emotion and said, “Excuse me, miss, can I take a photo of your eyes?”

His unexpected request, paired with that intense look in his gaze, caught me off guard. I’d never heard such a thing before and to be honest, I thought he might be a creep. Panicking, I turned and left as quickly as I could.

But Adrian was determined. Over the following week, he searched for me all over campus, intent on finding me again. Adrian was a prestigious professor at the medical school, one of the top ophthalmologists in the province, while I was just a humble assistant.

One day, my supervisor, Professor Coleman, called me into his office. My heart was pounding as I walked in, wondering if I’d made some terrible mistake and was about to be dismissed. But when I entered, there he was—Adrian, looking more polished than the first time we met, as if he were here for a long-anticipated date.

“Miss Grant, this is Professor Hardy,” the supervisor said warmly, introducing us. “He has a few questions he’d like to ask you.”

Adrian took my hand, his large one enveloping mine completely. The supervisor cleared his throat and said, “Professor Hardy, Ms. Grant is new here and quite shy, so please go easy on her.” Adrian let go of my hand, quickly picking up his teacup as his ears turned red.

“Alright then, I’ll leave you two to talk.” That day, Adrian hardly spoke. He just sat there, staring into my eyes for what felt like a long thirty minutes.

“Professor Hardy, is there something I can help you with?” I asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “If not, I should get back to work.”

“May I call you Lorie?” he asked, a pleading look in his eyes. “I mean, if that’s alright with you?”

“Y-yes. I’m fine with that,” I stammered, surprised by his question.

After that, we chatted a bit more before Adrian asked to connect on social media. He added me, looking as if he were reluctant to say goodbye. After he left, Professor Coleman called me back into his office and gave me a searching look.

“Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are… particularly striking?” he asked, as if trying to confirm something.

I shook my head, confused. My eyes were pretty ordinary—neither almond-shaped nor doe-like. If there was anything different about them, it might have been the deep brown of my irises or the way they always seemed a bit moist, as if holding onto falling tears.

Professor Coleman then asked, “What do you think of Professor Hardy?”

Not knowing how to respond, I shrugged and offered a neutral answer.

With a knowing smile, Professor Coleman patted my shoulder. “If you find him to your liking, don’t hesitate to get to know him better. But if he makes you uncomfortable, don’t be afraid to say no.”