The Hollow of His Heart
Today marked my eighteenth year caring for Conrad, my fifteenth by his side through his emotional turmoil, my third tending to his every need while he was blind—and the first day I heard him say with his own lips that I was nothing more than a maid’s daughter who could be bought off with money.
My friend furiously accused him of using me, but he only replied indifferently that people tend to make foolish choices when they’re weak, and that the wise should know when to cut their losses.
I took his advice and became the “wise one,” accepting the generous compensation from the Conrad family. But before I left, he begged me desperately, saying he wanted me to be the first person he saw when he regained his sight.
Conrad — weren’t you the one who said we should all be smart about our choices?
Chapter 1
Conrad Morrison had been blind for three years.
His good friend joked, "Once you recover from your surgery, will you plan to marry Tina?"
Conrad only answered, "Even if I stayed blind for life, I'd never marry a servant's daughter."
I froze outside the door. The medicine I'd prepared for Conrad was still in my hand, suspended midair as I reached for the doorknob.
Conrad's voice was always flat and indifferent. Even when he was showing his disgust, his tone stayed calm.
Then another voice came from the room. It was from Robert Payne, Conrad's childhood friend.
He was the only one allowed into Conrad's room after Conrad's accident left him blind.
Robert clearly hadn't expected that answer. He paused, stunned, before speaking.
"Christina grew up with us. We never saw her as just a servant's daughter. Why have you gotten so mean after a few years of blindness?"
Conrad's expression didn't change. "What are you getting at?"
"I'm just saying..." Robert's face was grim, but his tone held no anger. "She loves you so much. She's taken care of you for three years without any regrets. You can't just cast her aside now that you might get better."
Conrad looked confused, like he couldn't see the connection.
"Does her liking me mean I have to like her back? First, I never forced her to take care of me. Second, I can pay her for it. I don't have to throw away the rest of my life over this."
I clutched the medicine box tightly. In a daze, I felt the air around me seemed to freeze, and my breath caught in my throat.
Robert stood up abruptly. "I told her you were an emotionless monster, but she was so innocent that she thought she could melt you with her feelings. She even told me you promised to be with her once your eyes healed."
Conrad leaned back in his chair. "People say muddled things when they're vulnerable. My life's already gone off the rails once. Marrying Christina Lowery was never part of my plan. Once the surgery works, I'll get my life back on track, and my wife will be someone who fits."
He paused, as if weighing his words and considering whether the decision was right.
Then, he continued, "If she doesn't mind, she can stay. If she wants to leave, I'll give her enough money so that she can live comfortably for the rest of her life."
Robert threw up his hands, frustrated. "You're being ridiculous, Conrad!"
He strode toward the door, then turned back.
He added, "In that case, I think you won't mind if I pursue Christina, right?
"I'm not like you. I see how loyal she is. She's simply a perfect girl."
Conrad didn't even turn to Robert. After a long silence, he replied calmly, "Whatever."
Chapter 2
Robert slammed the door open as he rushed out.
I let the door swing shut on its own momentum, ducking into the small gap just behind it to stay hidden.
He was long gone, but I still stood frozen in place.
My mother had worked for the Morrison family since she was young. So I'd essentially been born and raised in the Morrison's house.
Back in the old days, people like me would've been hereditary servants.
Lucky for me, feudalism was gone. I wasn't stuck being one of the Morrison family.
But that didn't erase the chasm between Conrad and me.
If he hadn't gotten into that car accident and lost his sight, I wouldn't have been by his side for three years.
Conrad was genius-level smart. School had never been a challenge for him. Whether he outperformed the student in second place depended solely on his mood.
Once, in junior high, there was a monthly exam. He'd accidentally eaten eggplant, which was his least favorite food, at breakfast.
Sure enough, in a bad mood, he outscored the second-place student by nearly a hundred points in the exam.
Robert and I had always been "the fools" in Conrad's eyes. Robert never cared. He'd brush it off.
But when I was young, I'd secretly pushed myself, all for that silly little thing called pride.
I'd tried my best, dreaming of outdoing Conrad just once, just to impress him.
But after trying and failing so many times, I had to admit that talent was something one could never catch up to, no matter how hard I worked.
Conrad was destined to stand at the peak. No matter how much effort I put in, my intelligence and background always held me back. There was no way I could ever keep up with him.
But since young girls were always dreamy about love, I couldn't help but lie awake at night, letting those silly thoughts drift.
I never dared to voice them until the day he held my hand... Conrad must've been truly dazed in that moment, because a cold man like him actually asked if I could be with him.
But I never got to answer. By the next morning, when he woke up, he'd forgotten all about it.
Those memories vanished like they'd never happened, like just another ordinary dream.
And now that dream was ending. Conrad...
I stood at the door, staring at Conrad by the window.
Maybe he could sense being watched. I'd gazed at him too long, and he turned his head slightly.
But his eyes were still blind. He couldn't see me standing there with red eyes, tears falling silently down my cheeks.
I stayed as quiet as possible, making no sound at all.
Conrad turned his head back to the window, just like he always did, even though there was nothing he could see.
Chapter 3
I didn't go in after all. When I headed downstairs with the medicine, I ran into Conrad's mother, Katrina Morrison.
Even after all these years, she was as lovely as the day I first saw her as a little girl. Time hadn't touched her at all.
"Taking medicine to Cory?" She glanced at the box in my hand, then turned to the girl behind her. "Grace, that will be your job. Tina, give her the medicine."
Then I noticed the girl standing beside her, who was smiling at me warmly.
"He ... he doesn't like strangers in his room," I said, clutching the medicine tightly. My words came off weak—so unconvincing, like they carried no weight at all.
"It's fine. You didn't know, did you? I brought Grace over after she and Cory talked on the phone." Katrina smiled, patted my hand, and took the medicine from me with ease.
In the twenty years I'd known Conrad, he'd always been icy. Before he lost his sight, no one could make him spare a second glance. After going blind, he'd had moments of losing control. Anyone who approached his room got chased out.
Later, when he learned to manage his temper, he still hated people getting close to him. I'd been turned away countless times before he finally let me in.
Sometimes, even Katrina was stopped at the door.
But now, I looked up at the girl walking lightly up the stairs. I heard a knock, and unexpectedly, Conrad didn't get angry. He didn't throw anything.
I even caught faint sounds of them chatting happily.
Conrad had slipped back into being a normal person. He was normal now, and that very normality was making him drift away from me.
"Tina, sit down," Katrina said suddenly.
I turned to her, knowing she had something to say.
Katrina looked at me, studying my face carefully. "You've grown up, and you're even more beautiful now.
"Think about what I told you last time. Don't waste your energy on things you can never have. A girl's time is truly precious."
Her tone was elegant, her voice soft. There was no hint of sharpness or aggression at all.
When Conrad was five, Katrina noticed how indifferent he was to emotions. Once, when she fell and hurt herself, he'd only said coldly, "You're such a bother."
Doctors diagnosed him with severe emotional detachment and mild antisocial tendencies, advising early intervention.
To help him return to "normal," Katrina brought in other kids his age, but none could make him talk.
Then one day, I accidentally spilled milk on Conrad. I stammered, Mr. Morrison, I'm ... I'm so so-sorry."
His expression flickered just for a second. He said, "How clumsy."
Katrina kept me around after that. "All those quick-witted kids wouldn't work, but a little stutter like you made it."
Since then, I'd been Conrad's follower. I went to his school, lived in his house, and ate at his table.
All these years, Katrina had treated me well.
Even when Conrad started to act like a normal person, the offer she'd made three years ago was all for my sake.
She could sponsor me to study in France, write me a check, and secure me a job at Morrison Group once I graduated and returned to America.
And that offer still held, three years later.
I wasn't stubborn. And I knew, deep down, Conrad would never love me.
"I'll do it," I said with no hesitation.
My decisiveness seemed to surprise Katrina. She blinked, then nodded. "Good. I'll have everything ready for you tomorrow."
Chapter 4
"Where did you go?"
Conrad turned at the sound of the door opening.
He had such charming eyes, but those eyes, which ought to be warm, were usually icy.
Just then, they looked unfocused, clouded with confusion.
When he first went blind, he'd snap at me to fuck off whenever I came near.
Back then, I could only watch from a distance, rushing over only when he stumbled or fell.
The doctors had said his eyes would likely never heal.
But Conrad refused to accept it. He never learned the ways of the blind. Even unable to see, he'd still turn lights on and off at regular hours, as if nothing had changed.
He wanted to be normal, and I'd be his invisible crutch, his eyes.
"The surgery's in three days. The doctor said to take these pills regularly," I said, pouring a glass of water and pressing it into his hand.
He held the glass, gaze dropping. We both stayed quiet about the girl who'd been in his room.
I didn't care anymore, and Conrad probably just saw no need to explain.
"Didn't you say you wanted to go to Mount Hood?" He ran a finger along the glass's edge, speaking suddenly. "There's a card on the table. Book the hotel and tickets."
I turned and saw a black gold card lying silent on the table.
"One ticket or two?" I asked, trying to get him to say what he really thought.
Conrad paused. "You want me to go with you?"
My lips tightened. I felt like I was asking for disappointment. So I was ready to say no.
"Book two," he said.
"I don't think it's wise." I hesitated. "You'll probably be busy then. I want to see it, but you're not into this kind of thing. I can go alone."
"I said book two. You heard me, Christina. Can't you understand simple words?" Something in my response must have annoyed him. His face darkened suddenly, and his tone was sharp with irritation.
I took the card, but in the end, I booked neither.
That night, when Conrad was in the bathroom showering, I still stood outside the door, just like I'd done for nearly three years.
The first time he'd showered after going blind, an accident happened.
I'd rushed in, only to find Conrad disheveled and naked.
It was the first time I'd seen a man's naked body, and it was Conrad, who was always so cold and serious.
I'd frozen, my eyes darting from his handsome face to his toned chest, down to his defined abs, following the line of his...
Conrad let me stare, his empty eyes piercing. "Have you seen enough, Christina?"
To live like a normal person, he'd fallen more times than I could count. Bad falls, painful ones. But he'd never once asked for help.
I hugged my arms, leaning against the doorframe, waiting quietly.
Then Conrad suddenly called my name.
"What's wrong?" I straightened up, but I didn't rush in like I had the very first time.
After a few seconds, Conrad asked, "Why aren't you talking?"
I realized then: every night when Conrad was in the bathroom, I'd always chattered away outside to let him know I was guarding him.
I'd go on about anything, even ramble aimlessly about the gossip I'd picked up that day, like dumping beans out of a sack.
Conrad rarely replied, though later he'd sometimes add a comment or two.
But tonight, I'd kept silent. "Just thinking about something," I answered.
"On the day of my surgery, you stay outside," he paused and explained, "If the doctors have questions, you're the only one who knows my situation best."
I thought of my promise to Katrina: the day I planned to leave was the day of his surgery.
But I agreed anyway. "O-Okay. Yeah, I ... I know."
Chapter 5
The bathroom door was pulled open suddenly. Conrad wore only a bathrobe tied around his waist, his head tilted down. "Are you lying to me?"
I pressed my lips together, saying nothing.
"You've always been like this since you were a kid. Whenever you lie or get nervous, you stutter." It was as if he could see me. He took a few steps, then sat down in the chair nearby.
When I was little, I'd always stumbled over my words. For ages, "little stutter" was my nickname.
Back when Katrina told me to stick with Conrad, I'd follow him around, stammering, "Mr. Morrison, fin-finish your milk. Or your ... your mother will ... will get angry..."
He never drank the milk. All the delicious food the chef made would end up in my stomach in the end.
When we were kids, Conrad would sit there with a blank face, working on his problems, while I finished off the snacks.
Slowly, I became the voice for Conrad, who hated talking. Without noticing, my speech got smoother.
Only sometimes, when I was too nervous, that old habit would creep back.
"No, I'm not. Why would I lie for no reason?" I said, forcing each word out clearly.
He didn't push it further. "There's something I... Never mind. I'll tell you later. We've got plenty of time."
His last words were almost to himself. His tone was soft enough that I could barely catch him.
On the day of Conrad's surgery, not many people showed up. Only his closest family and friends were there.
"Christina," Conrad called my name just as they were about to wheel him in.
No one answered. He twisted his wheelchair toward the crowd, tilting his head as if searching. He raised his voice and called again, "Christina?"
I jolted back to my senses, stepping forward. "I'm here."
Conrad's hands tightened around the wheelchair armrests. He couldn't place the sudden tension. He'd had plenty of surgeries before, so this one was nothing more than just another one.
After a beat, he pressed, "When they take the gauze off, stand on my left side. You hear me?"
Everyone's eyes turned to me at once. If Conrad could see, he'd surely spot the plane ticket in my pocket and the travel bag slung across my shoulder.
But he couldn't. And for that, I was grateful.
I gripped the ticket tight, my voice soft. "Okay. I know."
The operating room door clicked shut, hiding Conrad from view.
I stared at it blankly for a few seconds, then turned and walked away without hesitation.
Conrad, this was where my love for you ended.
Next Chapter
