I had aphasia. But my husband has never looked down on me. I always thought I was the apple of his eye, his most cherished treasure. Until one day, I caught a whiff of another woman's perfume on him and overheard his cruel words, “Who wants to spend time with a mute?”

Only then did I realize how laughable my previous thoughts had been. When I decided to change my identity and become another man's wife, it was then that he began to regret everything.  

——

[Are you really sure you want to divorce Nathan and choose to marry me?]

When I read the text message, I didn’t hesitate for even a moment. “I’m sure. As long as you help me settle everything right here.”

“Alright.”

After receiving his reply, I turned off my phone, feeling an unexpected sense of relief wash over me for making this decision.  

Sometime later, the doorbell rang. I went to answer it. Just like I always did. Nathan Leach, my husband, holding a cake in front of his face like a prize. 

My husband, Nathan Leach, held up the cake he was carrying, raising it right in front of his face so that it was the first thing I saw instead of him. “Look! I made you a strawberry cake. I made it from scratch with my own hands,” he said cheerfully, his face beaming with excitement.

I smiled sweetly at him and nodded.  

“I knew you’d open the door,” Nathan said warmly, his eyes filled with affection as they met mine. “It must be tiring, waiting for me to come home every day and opening the door. Why don’t you let the maid handle it? I don’t want you wearing yourself out, Honey.” His voice was gentle as he shrugged off his jacket, a small smile playing on his lips.

I instinctively reached out to take it from him, but he stopped me with a soft touch on my hand.

“You don’t have to do this, Love,” he said, shaking his head slightly.

I paused for a moment, then raised my hands to sign, “I don’t mind doing things for the man I love.”

He chuckled, a low, affectionate sound that filled the quiet entryway. “I’m so lucky to have a woman like you as my wife,” he said, leaning in to place a tender kiss on the corner of my lips.

As he carried the cake into the house, my eyes followed his retreating figure before drifting down to the garment in my hands. Unable to resist, I brought it close to my nose and inhaled deeply.

There it was—the unmistakable scent of another woman’s perfume, clinging to the fabric like an unwelcome guest. My heart sank, its weight pressing down harder than ever. Though I already knew he was seeing someone else, the sharp pang of betrayal still caught me off guard, as if it were the first time.

I stood frozen in the doorway, the jacket dangling limply in my hands. My chest felt tight, the air heavy around me.

“What are you doing, Honey? Come over here and give a taste of this cake,” Nathan’s voice broke through my daze, calling from the dining room.

Hearing his voice, I quickly set the coat aside and walked over.  

Nathan eagerly waited for me. When I arrived, he cut a generous slice of cake and placed it in front of me, “Here, try it. See if I am good at baking.”

I nodded without betraying any emotion and took a bite. The sweetness of the cake spread across my tongue, but it tasted bland to me. Using sign language, I told him, “It’s delicious. You’ve work hard for this. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Nathan grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “But honey, you don’t have to thank me for small things like this ever again. We’re married. You don’t need to be so formal with me.”  

Just as he finished speaking, his phone, which lay on the table, started ringing.  Nathan glanced at me briefly before lowering his gaze to the phone screen.  I immediately looked down, pretending not to notice.  

After observing him for so long, I knew that he set a specific ringtone for her—the other woman. Nathan picked up the phone and a growing smile lit up his face.  

A mix of emotions washed over me as I sat quietly across from him.

Pulling out my phone, I opened Twitter. There, I saw her latest post. The first photo showed her, eyes closed, making a wish in front of a cake.  In the second photo, she smiled brightly, alluringly, holding baking tools. Her intense gaze was clearly directed at the man who wasn’t in the photo. He, too, held a tool in his hand, though only one hand was visible.

The caption read: “Happy birthday to me and may the one who’s with me always be happy too.”

The comments section was buzzing with guesses about the identity of the person celebrating with her. But I knew right away who the hand in the photo belonged to. It was Nathan’s.  

That was when it all clicked. The cake sitting in front of me was not made for me. Just a moment ago, I had been wondering how Nathan, always so busy, had suddenly made a cake for me. Turns out, it was for Clair's birthday. He had made the cake to cheer her up. While I was merely an afterthought. Perhaps Clair didn’t like the cake and that’s why it ended up here.  

A wave of nausea surged through me and I barely managed to hold back the urge to vomit.  

Before long, a comment appeared beneath Clair’s post: [Thank you, dear, Clair. Happy birthday! Hope you like the gift I got you!]

The comment quickly attracted attention and amassed countless likes. There was no need to guess who had written it—it was Nathan, the man who sat across from me and called me his wife.

Clair Jarvis was an artist under Nathan's company. Unlike the other talents marketed for their sweet and innocent images, Clair’s branding exuded the elegance of a bright yet cold young lady. She was unique and the audience loved her for it.  Even Nathan, too, had fallen for her.  

Despite joining the company just this year, Clair had been showered with opportunities and quickly becoming a top actress. Her meteoric rise was all thanks to Nathan.  

Soon, Clair replied to his comment:  [Thank you, darling, for the birthday gift. I love it! Here’s a kiss as a reward.]

The accompanying photo showed Clair’s hand adorned with a ring.  

A ring. Why, of all things, he gave her a ring? I felt my heart tighten in a painful knot. I looked up at Nathan, who sat across from me. But he didn’t notice that I was looking at him, his face still wearing a smile.

The same affectionate look he once reserved for me now belonged to someone else. I glanced down at his ring, then at the one on my finger. Though similar in design, I could tell right away that the one he wore wasn’t part of the matching set of mine.  

I opened my mouth to confront him, to ask him why he had betrayed me like this. But no sound came out.  

Returning to the comments section, I saw their flirtatious exchange had sparked a frenzy, quickly propelling them to trending topics. Unable to stomach it anymore, I closed the app, while Nathan remained oblivious to my shifting emotions.  

Later that night, I lay in bed alone, pulling the blanket over my head as if to shield myself from the storm raging in my mind. But Nathan and Clair’s faces kept flashing in my mind. It was impossible to shake them off. Suddenly, my phone buzzed, pulling me out of my thoughts.  

Annoyed, I checked the notification—it was from an unknown number.  Curious, I opened it to find the unedited version of Clair’s photo.  There, the owner of the hand was revealed and I was right. It belonged to Nathan.  

Before seeing this, I could still fool myself into believing I might have been mistaken. But now, even the last shreds of self-deception had been ripped away.  

In the photo, Nathan wore an apron, holding a strawberry while smiling softly at the camera.  

His eyes, however, were filled with nothing but Clair.  

A follow-up message arrived shortly after:  [Did you like the strawberry cake? Yours was just something Nathan grabbed at random store. The one I had was the one he made with his own hands from scratch.]  

Her words were filled with arrogance and triumph. 

My heart sank to rock bottom once more.

[Do you really think Nathan likes you that much? He’s long since gotten bored of you. Believe it or not, if I send him a single text, he’ll come running to me right away!]

I didn’t reply to her. Instead, I turned off my phone and lay back down.

At that moment, I wasn’t sure whether I was genuinely upset or waiting for her claim to be proven true. A bitter smile crept onto my face. I’ve become so insecure.

Nathan came out of the bathroom, a towel in one hand as he dried his hair while reaching for his phone with the other. When he saw the screen light up, his brow arched slightly and unmistakable joy sparkled in his eyes. He typed a reply and soon enough, I received a screenshot.

It was Clair. She’d sent me Nathan’s reply: [Wait for me. I’ll be right over. Don’t forget to wear the outfit I bought you.]

Before I could process it, Nathan spoke up.

“Honey, something urgent came up at work. I need to head back to the office.”

He acted as if he didn’t want to go, as if the situation truly irritated him, but he was already pulling on his clothes.

I gestured in sign language, my face calm as I decided not to expose his lie.

“Go ahead. Don’t keep them waiting.”

“But I promised I would spend time with you. Lately, I've been so busy with work and today is the only day I can relax. I want to spend it with you,” he said, looking genuinely regretful. But I knew it was just an act and it made me sick. He wasn't busy with work. He was busy with Clair. I forced a smile onto my lips, signing my hand to tell him, “It's okay. There's always tomorrow.” 

But in reality, my heart was shattered to pieces.

“Alright,” he said, clearly relieved. “I’ll try finish it up quickly so I can come back to you as soon as possible.” 

Without another glance, he left.

I thought back to how he used to stick to me like glue. Even when his company had important meetings, he’d opt for virtual calls to stay close. He never left me because of work. But now, he was choosing to neglect me for another woman.

The sound of his car engine revving up outside jolted me into action. I rushed downstairs and hailed a taxi. Typing out a message on my phone, I showed it to the driver: “Follow that car, please.”

He seemed to understand the situation and silently complied, keeping a safe distance as he followed Nathan's car. Soon, Nathan pulled up in front of a luxury villa.

I watched as Clair emerged, dressed in a revealing bunny costume. The black stockings clung to her long, slender legs, accentuating her sexiness. Nathan pounced on her like a starved wolf, lifting her up and carrying her inside.

Through the villa’s floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw them pressed against the wall, locked in a passionate kiss.

My hands clenched into fists, trembling with anger. I closed my eyes and let out a heavy sigh. The driver noticed my distress and tried to console me.

“Don’t waste your tears on a man like that, lady. Divorce him. He’s not worth it,” he said, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.

His words cut through the fog of my despair and only then did I realize my cheeks were wet with tears. I couldn’t bear to watch any longer. Gesturing to the driver, I asked him to leave. But barely a minute after we started driving, a violent crash shook the car. The next thing I knew, I was pinned beneath the wreckage.

Through my haze, I saw Nathan and Clair. The deafening sound of the collision hadn’t disturbed their passionate scene in the slightest. My phone, miraculously intact amidst the chaos, lay within reach. Summoning all my strength, I reached for it.