Part 2: I had surgery to restore my sight after 20 years of blindness, even though my husband begged me not to — the moment I opened my eyes and saw him, I finally understood why.

Dad had gone to buy ice cream.

Nigel reached for my hand.

I let him take it.

"Mara?"

"Yes?"

He looked at me.

"Do you ever regret the surgery?"

I thought carefully.

Then shook my head.

"No."

"Even after everything you discovered?"

I looked toward the playground.

"Especially after everything."

He frowned slightly.

I smiled.

"For twenty years, I thought getting my sight back would mean I could finally see the people I loved."

I turned toward him.

"But I didn't understand that seeing someone's face and truly knowing them are two different things."

Nigel's eyes filled.

I continued.

"Your face told me something you'd hidden. The medical records told me something my family had buried."

I squeezed his hand.

"And the truth gave me the chance to decide what kind of life I wanted."

Nigel looked down.

"Do you still want me in it?"

I stared at him.

At the crescent scar.