“This is Julian Thorne, and I want to confess my love to someone special.” Sleepless in the dead of night, I turned on the radio, only to hear the deep, resonant voice of my husband, Julian Thorne, who suffered from selective mutism. I’d been married to Julian for three years. For the first two years, we could still manage a few clumsy conversations, but in the last three months, even face-to-face, he couldn’t utter a single word. “It’s been three years since we last met, and I’m really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.” The voice from the radio clearly wasn’t talking about me. “I love you, Willow.” Julian’s voice had never held so much emotion. The confession ended quickly. Then came the host’s envious praise. But I sat propped against the bed, stunned, unable to recover for a long time. Our families had arranged for Julian and me to meet, and I fell for him at first sight. Yet, Julian always wore an indifferent expression. Only when we first met did his mother explain. “Audrey, you must understand… Julian has selective mutism.” I called his mother. “Audrey, still up so late?” My nose burned, and a hint of a sob escaped my lips. Julian’s mother sounded flustered. “What’s wrong? Did Julian upset you?” “Did you know Willow Evans was back?” I froze. So, I was the only one who didn’t know. “I’m sorry, Audrey… I wasn’t honest with you three years ago. Julian’s selective mutism started when his ex-girlfriend, Willow Evans, left.” “I had no choice but to push him to find a new girlfriend…” “It sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? The heir to the powerful Thorne empire, rendered speechless… But Audrey, don’t worry, no matter what, I’ll keep that boy in line.” I don’t remember how I hung up the phone, or how I spent that lonely night. I looked up a lot of information on the condition back then. One cause listed was: “Suffering a major external shock.” I didn’t understand. I tried to subtly ask Julian’s family, but got nowhere. Later, I tried everything: psychological counseling, electroshock therapy, food therapy, even some alternative chakra healing. I even took Julian to comedy shows. Unfortunately, while I was laughing my head off, he remained stiff, completely silent. It wasn’t until his proposal that he seemed to muster immense resolve and uttered two words. “Marry me.” As happy as I was then, that’s how miserable I felt now. Yes, I couldn’t cure Julian’s selective mutism because I wasn’t his cure. A bitter feeling welled up inside me, and fear slowly crept in. His cure was back, so what about me? My loosely clasped hands slowly tightened, a stubborn defiance rising within me. If Julian didn’t love me, there was no reason to remain trapped in this marriage. He wouldn’t divorce me, but what about *me*? If that was the case, I would file for divorce, completely freeing Julian and his… cure. After making up my mind, I carefully got myself ready. Three years ago, for Julian, I’d given up the chance to study medicine abroad. Maybe it wasn’t too late now. An hour later, I was out the door, planning to head to the nearby mall to buy some new clothes. “Ma’am, this is the last one left of the dress you tried on. Would you like to buy it?” I nodded, pulling out my card from my purse and handing it to the sales associate. “I’m so sorry, another lady wants to pay extra for this dress… Would you mind… giving it up?” I followed the sales associate’s gaze to a vibrant girl in high heels. She was happily chatting with a man. I stood up and took two steps forward, only to meet the man’s eyes. It was Julian! So that girl… must be Willow. Julian’s face instantly turned serious. He opened his mouth, but still couldn’t speak. He looked at me expressionless, then tapped his phone with his right index finger. I was all too familiar with that gesture; it meant he wanted to communicate via text. “What are you doing here?” “Are you following me?” “Go home.” Three messages popped up consecutively, crushing my last shred of hope. Willow, beside him, hugged Julian’s arm and asked with a smile, “Julian, who is this? A friend?” Then she gently swayed, starting to flirt. “Can she let me have this dress? I really want it.” Julian gave a soft, gentle smile and patted his phone reassuringly. He didn’t even ask me, just took out his card and handed it to the sales associate, signaling to pay. “Just a friend.” Those words felt like a block of ice, raising goosebumps all over me. I could barely stand. So… so my three years had only earned me a single word from Julian: a… friend. The lights in the mall crackled ominously. I subconsciously looked up, and the overhead light fixture suddenly came loose. There was a deafening crash, followed by a sharp pain in my back. In that single instant, I felt a dampness beneath me. I trembled as I touched it, and my hand came away covered in blood. The entire store erupted into chaos. Screams and phone calls buzzed in my ears. But when I looked up, all I saw was Julian scooping Willow into his arms, anxiously looking around. “Call an ambulance! An ambulance!” I had never seen Julian so panicked.
“Excuse me, sir, but could you please let this lady get into the ambulance first? The next one will be here shortly, and her injuries are more critical.” The paramedics carefully moved me, semi-conscious, onto a stretcher, but an enraged Julian blocked them. “Save her!” Then I felt a shove, and I fell heavily to the floor from the stretcher. The pain jolted me fully awake. I watched, helpless, as Julian gently placed Willow onto the stretcher. “Sir, she only has a sprained wrist, it’s not serious!” “You’re needlessly hogging medical resources!” “Willow’s hands are important! She’s a doctor!” I was astonished. This was the longest sentence Julian had spoken in almost two years, yet not a single word was about me. Julian finished speaking and immediately pushed the paramedics into the ambulance. I leaned against a nearby display rack, gasping for air. But every breath seemed to pull at the wound on my back, making the pain even worse. I didn’t know if the wound hurt more, or my heart. Hadn’t I given up becoming a doctor for Julian? How could someone else’s hands be more important than mine? What was I to him, then? A mechanical smile twitched at my lips. I was just a friend. I fainted from the pain. When I woke up in the hospital, the first thing I did was send Julian a message. “Let’s get a divorce.” Just as I sent it, Julian walked in, pushing the door open. He was carrying two gift boxes from the same brand I’d seen earlier today. He placed the gift boxes on a nearby cabinet and sat directly on the chair by my bed. Julian took out his phone, probably saw my message, but his face remained unruffled. The hospital room filled with suffocating silence, but my phone chimed. It was Julian’s messages. “You like this brand. I picked out two dresses that suit you.” “When you’re discharged, I’ll have their entire collection brought to the house. You can buy the whole store if you want.” “Willow is a doctor. Her hands are very important to a doctor, that’s why… I was so nervous. Please don’t be angry.” I lowered my head, staring at the phone in front of me. Message after message came in, and in an instant, tears blurred my vision again. I finally couldn’t help but ask, “You can talk to her, so why can’t you talk to me? When we’re face-to-face, you still send messages?” “Are you doing this on purpose?! Is this emotional abuse?!” I looked up, tears streaming down my face, my voice choked. Julian’s expression remained as calm as still water. After an unknown period of silence, he lowered his head and typed again. “I’m sorry, I have selective mutism.” Then he pulled a document from his pocket and handed it to me, signaling me to sign it. I looked at it. It was the property transfer deed for the house we lived in. “This is compensation.” A sudden ringtone broke the silence. Julian’s face tightened. He quickly picked up the phone. His phone had excellent soundproofing; I couldn’t hear who was on the other end. But the next second, Julian replied, “I’ll be right there.” It was Willow’s call. My heart already knew the answer. I didn’t hesitate anymore. I took out my phone and searched for the online court app. I filled out the complaint form, both our personal details, and the marriage certificate. For the separation agreement, I uploaded the property transfer deed and opted not to accept mediation. As I pressed the “submit for judgment” button, I felt a long sigh escape my chest. Countdown: thirty days. “Property transfer center, 3 PM. Transferring the house.” A week after being admitted to the hospital, I received Julian’s message. That week, Julian hadn’t sent any messages or called, nor had he visited. I was gradually getting used to life alone. I arrived at 3:30 PM, but Julian, uncharacteristically, was already waiting in the lobby. He hated tardiness, but there wasn’t a hint of impatience on his face. As soon as I arrived, a VIP counter attendant came to greet me. Julian had even thoughtfully prepared a bouquet of flowers, and next to it was a small velvet box, likely containing jewelry. The attendant stepped forward to pull out a chair, but Julian stopped him, indicating he would do it himself. This surprised me. I pondered for a moment before speaking. “Actually… you don’t have to do all this.” Julian even had a faint smile on his face, shaking his head gently. He seemed to put in a great effort before managing two words. “It’s fine.” Rare gentleness and communication. The procedures were quick. “Go home first, I still have to work late.” A strange feeling built within me, reaching a peak. I stepped out and had just hailed a cab when I realized I’d forgotten my handbag. I had to go back for it. I saw Julian still standing in the lobby, holding an even larger bouquet of roses than before. Willow came in through the main entrance, and he immediately went to meet her. They embraced. Julian affectionately patted her head. “Mr. Thorne, please come this way for your new property purchase.” “You mentioned wanting to buy an estate, right? After transferring this apartment, you now meet the purchase limit criteria and can buy another one.” “Mrs. Thorne, watch your step.” Willow leaned her head against Julian’s shoulder, both walking happily into an inner room. It was the height of summer, yet I’d never felt so cold. So cold that I couldn’t stand, so cold that cold sweat beaded on my back and forehead. So, I was the one who had been cast aside.
“Ms. Sinclair, your husband, Mr. Julian Thorne, has not responded to the relevant requests in this lawsuit. We connected with him on the phone, but there was no response, so it will be treated as tacit agreement to the divorce petition.” “Therefore, your lawsuit has been processed by this court. You have thirty days from the date of your application to withdraw it. If you do not withdraw, the marriage relationship between you two will be terminated.” The court operator’s voice was completely flat. Perhaps this was just one of countless simple lawsuits they handled every day. I took a deep breath, and even with trembling hands, I replied, “Understood.” I took a cab home and quietly surveyed everything. Then I started packing Julian’s things. I wasn’t planning to move out; I intended to clear out everything related to him. “Mrs. Thorne, you have a card.” A knock on the door. It was the delivery person’s voice. He only handed me an envelope. “I’m not Mrs. Thorne anymore.” I took the card and suddenly spoke. The delivery person paused, then smiled awkwardly. I opened the envelope. Inside was a handwritten card. The handwriting was Julian’s. I opened it, and Julian’s voice came out. “I miss you, I like you, I love you…” Before I could react, a hand snatched the card from my grasp. I stumbled, almost falling, and looked up to see a dark-faced Julian. “Don’t mess with my things.” My phone screen lit up. It was his message. Before I could reply, Julian had already turned and gone downstairs. “Julian Thorne! You’re going too far!” I was furious, and I ran downstairs after Julian, stomping my feet. “I didn’t go through your things! How dare you disrespect me!” “I don’t care what your relationship with your so-called Willow is, but you have no right to insult or humiliate me!” A piercing screech filled the air—the sound of tires skidding from an emergency brake. I felt a sudden, sharp pain in my side. Before I could even see clearly, a car slammed into me, sending me flying. With a loud thud, I hit the ground hard. I struggled to get up, but then a face with elaborate makeup and sunglasses zoomed into view. Her red high heels rolled over my right palm. “Ah—!” A strangled scream tore from my throat. Before my vision blurred completely, I saw Julian running from behind, looking frantic. His expression was utterly different from his usual cold, aloof demeanor. He nervously took Willow’s hand, examining it carefully, then let out a huge sigh of relief. Until I lost consciousness, he hadn’t even given me a second glance. “Ms. Sinclair, your SVIP privileges at Thorne Hospital have been revoked. I’m afraid we’ll have to move you to a private room.” “My apologies, just confirmed, there are no private rooms available either. You may have to wait for surgery in the hallway.” “Also, your right hand… the injury to your palm is very severe… you need immediate surgery, otherwise… you might not be able to perform delicate movements in the future.” Even in my dazed state, those words jolted me awake. “Ju… Julian… where is he…?” “Get… my phone…” I urgently tried to get up to find my phone and contact Julian. “The number you have dialed is currently switched off.” A whimpering cry escaped my throat. I slammed the phone down with a loud bang, and a sharp, throbbing pain in my right hand gnawed at my nerves. “Ms. Sinclair, we found Mr. Thorne. He’s… with Dr. Willow Evans in the psychological counseling room. He said Dr. Evans was startled, and Mr. Thorne instructed that no one should disturb them…” I covered my eyes with my left hand, blood and tears mixing and soaking my sleeve. “I hate you… I hate you…” “I hate you so much! Julian Thorne!”
I survived the night in the hallway, clinging to a pain pump, before finally getting scheduled for surgery. I felt pain in both my body and soul, so much so that I was almost numb. “I’m sorry, Ms. Sinclair, due to the comminuted fracture in your right hand and the delay in surgery, some muscle tissue has necrotized. You may not be able to lift heavy objects in the future.” The doctor gave a wry smile. “I know you’re also a medical professional, so… you probably won’t be able to hold a scalpel again.” “Would you like to speak with Mr. Thorne? The Thorne family has always been a giant in the medical field. If you seek treatment abroad, there might still be a chance.” I shook my head, looking at my bandaged right hand, which I couldn’t even bend now. “Can you please buy me a new phone? I want to call the police.” Before I could finish, the door burst open. It was Julian. His originally grim, tense expression softened with a hint of surprise when he saw me, covered in bandages and hooked up to an IV. He opened his mouth but still couldn’t speak. So, he grabbed a paper and pen from nearby. “I didn’t know you were so seriously injured last night. I’ll contact international specialists for your right hand.” I snorted, finding it somewhat amusing. “No need. I’ll heal my own hand.” Julian frowned slightly, seemingly dissatisfied with my reaction. I wanted to ask about the divorce, but then thought it wasn’t necessary. Julian pulled out his checkbook from his inner jacket pocket, wrote down a figure, and placed it on the table. “This is compensation for you. I hope you don’t blame Willow.” When I saw Willow’s name, I started to tremble uncontrollably. “Get out! I don’t want to see you again, Julian Thorne!” “What Willow? I will definitely call the police. I don’t lack money!” I picked up the check from the table, tore it in half, and angrily slapped it onto Julian’s chest. Julian froze, as if he’d never seen me lose my temper like that. “I won’t let you hurt Willow.” Those words pierced my heart like a thorn, impossible to extract. Julian left, leaving me trembling from head to toe. “Ten more days… Ten days, and we’ll have nothing to do with each other.” “Ms. Sinclair, these are flowers Mr. Thorne sent for you.” Julian had sent flowers for three consecutive days. I didn’t look at them, just mumbled a dry acknowledgment. I leaned on a crutch, quickly packed my things, and prepared to leave the hospital. As I pushed open the door, I realized that the entire hospital hallway was enveloped in a sea of flowers. They were identical to the red roses Julian had been sending these past few days. My heart skipped a beat. How did Julian know I planned to be discharged today? But the next moment, the words of other patients in the hallway shattered my illusion. “Mr. Thorne from Thorne Corp is so sweet. To make Dr. Evans feel comfortable, he sent flowers to all the patient rooms and redecorated her entire floor.” “It must cost tens of thousands every day. Rich people’s romance is truly something else.” “Shh! Lower your voice, Mr. Thorne’s wife is also hospitalized here.” I steadied myself, my face pale, leaning against the wall, then let out a self-deprecating laugh. A chorus of “oohs” and “aahs” broke out. I instinctively leaned over to look down. That’s when I saw that the ground floor lobby had also been redecorated with vibrant red roses. Julian and Willow Evans stood in the center. “Willow, will you stay with me forever?” Julian knelt on one knee, saying those age-old lines. Willow blushed shyly, accepting the ring box he offered. Everyone around them applauded and congratulated them. Julian kissed Willow’s lips. I instinctively touched my own lips. How long had it been since he’d touched mine? In just over a thousand days, I couldn’t even count anymore? Next to me, Julian didn’t just seem to have selective mutism; he also had an extreme fear of germs. At this moment, I felt as if the world was a massive, absurd play. My ex-husband, who suffered from selective mutism, was publicly proposing to his ex-girlfriend. Turns out, not being loved was the real sin.
I lingered outside for a while, bought a new phone, reported the incident, and gave a statement to the police. I finalized my master’s application plan for the fall semester with a study abroad agency and bought a ticket for a flight to the States in ten days. I planned to undergo treatment while continuing my studies. It was seven in the evening when I got home. Looking at the half-packed house, covered in a thick layer of dust, I knew Julian hadn’t returned. After eating something, I continued clearing out my belongings. The door clicked open. It was Julian. Julian watched my actions, his face returning to its cold expression. He seemed to sense something was different about me today, but couldn’t pinpoint what. He didn’t pause, walking directly into the bedroom, where I heard a rummaging sound. Then he rushed out, scattering his neatly packed clothes and various items I’d organized. “What are you doing?!” I stepped forward, but his hand blocked me, and I fell to the floor. “Where’s the voice recorder?!” It was Julian’s voice. How long had it been since he spoke to me? “What voice recorder? I didn’t take anything.” I said, watching the bandage on my right hand slowly soak with blood again. Another rummaging sound. I looked up. I’d never seen Julian so disheveled. He was frantically sweating, his tie askew, and his coat stained with dust. “Where’s the voice recorder!” Julian stopped, looking down at me. “I told you I didn’t see it!” I had never been so assertive. I used my left hand to push myself up, wobbling, and stood eye-to-eye with Julian. Julian seemed a bit flustered, and anger began to boil. He clenched and unclenched his fist, then slammed it into the nearby glass sliding door. The glass shattered to the floor. “My voice recorder, where is it.” Julian took a few steps closer, still relentlessly questioning. Blood dripped from his right hand. I’d never seen Julian so manic. I mustered my courage and shoved him away, intending to limp out the door. “This is Julian Thorne, I’m eighteen, and I want to confess my feelings to Willow Evans.” “Willow, today is our two-year anniversary. I hope we’ll stay together forever.” “Willow, we’ve been together for three years. My wish this year is still to be with you always.” “Willow… why did you leave?” “Willow, I’m getting married.” Julian crashed into a pile of clutter. A worn voice recorder rolled out from somewhere. A red light flashed repeatedly, and it began to play its contents. It was Julian’s love letters to Willow, starting from his youth. “Goodbye, Willow, I hope to see you again.” “Goodbye.” “Goodbye.” The recorder seemed broken from the impact, repeating “Goodbye” over and over. Julian quickly got up and picked it up, frantically pressing the power button, but it was no use. My departing footsteps halted. I slowly turned around, leaning against the shoe cabinet by the entrance. Tears streamed down my face. “Julian Thorne.” “Why did you marry me if you didn’t love me?” Julian’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He seemed to want to say something but didn’t. “Let me explain, Audrey.” A message flashed on his phone. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to calm down. I brutally stifled the bitterness rising in my heart. “Leave. Take all your things and get out of my house.” Julian’s lips were pressed tightly together. He just clutched the voice recorder, still repeating that single phrase, and walked past me out the door. “I’m sorry.”
I didn’t see Julian for the next few days. But before I left, I had to go to the hospital one last time for a dressing change. The hospital corridor now proudly displayed Willow Evans’s profile, updated and hung among the other specialists on the ground floor. I glanced at it a few times and was shocked by her published paper. It was my university graduation thesis! I repeatedly checked the name and date; they were both around the same time as mine. “Ms. Sinclair, hello.” A female voice pulled me back to reality. I turned and saw Willow Evans. “Care for a chat?” She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head toward a nearby waiting area. I looked at Willow Evans, and indeed, everything about her was perfect. Her white lab coat was impeccably ironed, and every strand of her wavy hair seemed meticulously styled. Willow smiled and spoke. “That day the court called, Julian didn’t answer. I did.” She blinked, feigning a touch of grievance. “I didn’t know that not speaking meant agreeing to a divorce. Ms. Sinclair, you won’t blame me, will you?” I was silent for a few breaths, then shook my head. “No. I wanted the divorce. Not being entangled is better for me.” Willow didn’t seem to care about my answer, immediately chiming in. “And also, the car accident that day was truly an accident. I apologized to Julian, and Julian promised me everything would be fine. I suppose… Ms. Sinclair won’t hold it against me, right?” I stared at her, saying nothing. Deep down, I knew many things couldn’t be resolved by me alone, and Julian defending Willow was what I expected. “You saw it, didn’t you? That paper.” Willow continued, her tone sinking slightly. “Yes, it’s just as you think. Julian… knew I was doing research and voluntarily gave it to me.” “Thank you for taking care of Julian these past three years. I was doing research abroad and couldn’t be with him constantly. Later, I found out that my sudden departure… caused him to develop selective mutism.” Willow rubbed her forehead, feigning distress, but then immediately broke into a smile. “But he’s improved so much in the short time I’ve been back!” I lowered my gaze, unconsciously stirring the coffee the nurse had brought me. “Are you here to boast about how much Julian loves you?” I put the spoon down and drank the bitter black coffee in one gulp. “There’s no need. I don’t care about Julian’s past, present, or future. I don’t like a mute man.” “I hope you make good use of the man I left behind.” I ignored her, stood up, and walked directly to the payment counter. “Ms. Sinclair!” Willow seemed displeased with my reaction. She stood up and tried to grab my right hand. Her grip was painfully tight. I forcefully shook her off. “Bang!” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a familiar tall figure: it was Julian! He helped Willow, who had just bumped into the railing, back up. “Julian, it’s fine, it’s fine. I’m not that… delicate. I just lost my footing.” My steps faltered, then I decided to ignore them and walked quickly forward. But Julian slapped me. The resounding crack echoed in the hospital corridor, drawing the attention of nearby patients and staff. Julian seemed a bit surprised himself. “You…” He looked at his palm, but his expression quickly returned to cold indifference. “A-pologize!” I clutched my stinging right cheek, unable to stop a bitter laugh. Every time Julian truly spoke to me, it was always about Willow. What was it about Willow that I lacked? But it didn’t matter anymore. “Julian! How could you hit Ms. Sinclair!” “It’s okay, Julian. Ms. Sinclair doesn’t need to apologize.” Julian still wanted to insist, but Willow skillfully draped herself over his arm and spoke softly. Julian, that block of ice, began to melt again. I once believed that if I was just considerate enough, Julian would eventually accept me. If I just scoured every text, Julian’s selective mutism would eventually be cured. I had fantasized a lot. But the Julian in reality had never belonged to me.
My flight to the States was at 4 PM. I received the court’s divorce decree at noon. From this moment on, I was completely free. “Meet me at the cafe downstairs from the company at 1 PM.” It was a message from Julian. I thought about it and decided to go. I arrived at the cafe early, with my luggage and the divorce decree in hand. I waited from 1 PM until 1:30 PM, then from 1:30 PM until 2 PM. Julian, who had specifically asked to meet, had stood me up. I sent Julian several messages, all of which went unanswered. Finally, I received a brief two-word reply. “Busy.” “Hello, is this Ms. Sinclair?” “I’m Mr. Thorne’s assistant. Mr. Thorne asked me to tell you that he suddenly had something urgent come up and couldn’t make it to meet you.” I didn’t respond. This was within my expectations. “Mr. Thorne… also asked me to tell you that he found a specialist in the UK for your hand bone and muscle repair, and arrangements will be made for your treatment.” “Also, he transferred another twenty million to your account for living and treatment expenses during this period.” I held the phone with one hand and my luggage with the other, standing up. The “no need” on my lips remained unspoken. Looking up, I saw Julian and Willow Evans sitting at an outdoor cafe across the street, chatting and laughing. Willow smiled shyly, and Julian dotingly brushed stray hairs from her face. The sun was beautiful today, casting a golden glow on both of them. Julian seemed to have never been so happy in the past three years. I quickly stopped myself from letting my thoughts wander. “Ms. Sinclair, are you listening?” His assistant on the other end of the line was still speaking. I resolutely pressed the red “end call” button, paid the bill, and quickly walked out the door. I walked directly over to Julian and Willow, slamming the divorce decree—which I’d clutched in my hand the entire walk—onto their table. Juice and coffee splashed instantly, staining Willow’s dress. My right hand was grabbed by Julian again. He didn’t even glance at the document. After a few seconds of pause, Julian seemed to realize that arguing with stubborn me was pointless. He immediately walked to the other side of the table and carefully wiped her dress with a tissue. “Are you okay, Willow?” I stood quietly for a moment, then hailed a cab to the airport. “Passengers traveling to the States, please check in at Gate T1.” “Audrey Sinclair, I think you should apologize to Willow.” A message came in from Julian. Without a moment’s hesitation, I blocked and deleted his contact. I handed my ID, passport, and visa documents to the security officer. The officer eyed me suspiciously. “Just got divorced today?” I checked my luggage, then looked up and smiled. “Yes, that’s right. Divorced.” The air conditioning on the plane was quite strong. I asked the flight attendant for a complimentary cashmere blanket and wrapped myself tightly. I drifted off to sleep, not even hearing the announcement for takeoff. Only one thought remained in my mind. “Julian Thorne, goodbye.”
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