When I was young, I lost a leg saving Jasper. Later, because of that leg, I was bullied and lost my hearing. Jasper rushed back from thousands of miles away and promised with tears in his eyes to take care of me for life. But ten years later, the first words I heard after regaining my hearing were from Jasper’s friend asking him. “Hey, between Nora and Celeste, who do you prefer?” Jasper laughed softly, “Of course, it’s Celeste. Nora’s missing a leg, such a downer.” He seemed to forget that Celeste was the one who caused my hearing loss. “Nora’s missing a leg, such a downer.” When I heard this, I was holding carefully baked desserts, eager to share the good news with Jasper about my regained hearing. But in that moment, I froze, unable to believe what he said. “Nora?” Jasper turned and saw me, quickly taking the plate from my hands, communicating gently in sign language: “Why are you standing there? Come sit.” He always made sure I didn’t stand too long, worried that the prosthetic leg might cause me pain. But the next moment, with the same gentle look, he spoke to his friend in an irritated tone: “If she stands for too long, her leg hurts at night, and I have to massage it. Ugh, sometimes I still can’t get used to seeing her leg.” It was the first time I heard him speak with such disdain, and I almost couldn’t hold back my tears. “I have something to do, you guys chat.” Holding back tears, I returned to my room as calmly as usual. But as I entered the room, I heard Jasper say, “She can’t hear, what are you afraid of?” Tears suddenly flowed, and I wiped my face hard. My eyes fell on the photo on the bedside table. It was a picture of seventeen-year-old me and eighteen-year-old Jasper. Before the accident that year, we took this photo, full of unspoken feelings and hopes for a bright future together. But two months after the photo was taken, during a chain car accident on an overpass, I threw myself on Jasper to save him, losing my left leg, the one I danced with. Eighteen-year-old Jasper knelt by my hospital bed, choked with emotion, promising to take care of me for a lifetime. At twenty-eight, Jasper and I were seen by friends as the epitome of a loving couple. But it turned out, aside from me, everyone knew Jasper was disgusted by my leg and tired of it. He even cheated with the woman who bullied me. When I came out of the room, Jasper’s friend was gone, and I heard Jasper talking on the phone by the window. “Celeste, don’t be afraid, I’m coming home.” A charming female voice gently came through from the other end, and my body stiffened instantly. That voice haunted many of my nightmares. Jasper, with a warm expression, noticed me and calmly hung up the phone. “Nora, there’s something at the company, I need to go. Don’t wait for me for dinner.” I thought of the “home” he mentioned just now. After marrying Jasper, he bought this spacious penthouse, telling me it was our home. Now, which home was he going to? “Okay,” I said with difficulty, trying to remain calm, “You go ahead.” With my agreement, Jasper hugged me and then instructed Mrs. Jenkins, “Don’t forget to make pigeon soup for the lady.” Mrs. Jenkins acknowledged. After he left, Mrs. Jenkins typed on her phone to ask about my dinner preference. After answering, she glanced at the door, then at me, with a hint of sympathy in her eyes, muttering, “Poor lady…” Am I pitiful? I took the health tea she handed me and returned to the room. Sitting quietly by the window for over an hour, I impulsively opened my phone and logged into my long-unused Twitter. I found a few new bot followers. But when I clicked on one of their profiles, I saw a tweet posted just ten minutes ago. “A cockroach appeared at home, luckily my brother came in time, scared me to death — my brother also gave me a new ring, telling me that our love is as eternal and sincere as the ring’s meaning —” The photo showed a slender hand wearing a six-carat pink diamond ring, and when I saw the butterfly tattoo on the thumb, my eyes narrowed. It was Celeste… I’ll never forget the vivid black butterfly on her hand when she burned me with a curling iron.
Jasper didn’t come home all night. When he returned the next evening, he had changed clothes. He walked to me with a bouquet of jasmine, arranging them in a vase one by one. “Jasper,” I called his name, “Have you gathered all the evidence? About Celeste.” Hearing Celeste’s name, Jasper’s hand paused, a hint of guilt in his eyes, but he quickly said, “Not yet. Those people took hush money from the Liang family and are tight-lipped, afraid of retaliation.” At seventeen, Jasper went to study in the U.S., and I stayed home to accompany my grandmother. Because I helped a classmate, Celeste and her group targeted me. Dirty water poured over my head, centipedes in my water cup, dead mice in my pencil case… shards of glass in my knee, cigarette burns on my shoulder, and a curling iron burn on my arm. I sought help, but the Liang family had connections, and no one assisted me. Until one time, I stumbled upon Celeste dating some thugs, and she called me, “Hey, cripple.” She had the thugs drag me away, and I fought hard, biting a piece of flesh off her arm. She went mad, slapped me dozens of times, and slammed my head into the wall. When I woke up, I saw Jasper, who had rushed back to the country, holding my hand, his eyes red, repeating the same sentence. I could only understand through lip-reading, he was saying: “I’ll kill them.” To my horror, I realized I couldn’t hear. The thugs and those who bullied me ended up in jail thanks to the Shen family’s influence, except Celeste, who was sent out of the province the next day. Five years ago, the Liang family had a scandal involving a real and fake daughter, and Celeste, the fake, was kicked out. Two years ago, I saw her again, kneeling on glass, apologizing with tears: “I’m sorry.” But I wanted more than an apology; I wanted legal justice. “I want to see her tomorrow,” I told Jasper. Jasper agreed. Celeste seemed to have something on Jasper, and he made her apologize to me on her knees every month. She complied, month after month. He said it would continue until she atoned for her sins, and I forgave her. But as I returned to the room, he made a call, seemingly instructing someone, “Give those people more money, keep them quiet.” “Ugh, it’s because Nora somehow brought up Celeste again. It’s been so long, and she still can’t let it go, so troublesome.” The tone was clear annoyance, and I clutched the doorframe, heading back to my room. At that moment, my heart shattered into pieces. It wasn’t that Jasper hadn’t gathered evidence; he didn’t want to hurt Celeste, so he pretended he hadn’t. When did Jasper change? I leaned against the door, hearing him make another call, this time speaking softly and intimately to the other end: “Go back to where you were, Nora wants to see you. Don’t be scared, she won’t do anything to you.”
After being kicked out by the Liang family, Celeste lived in a rundown neighborhood. When I arrived, she came shortly after. She wore a cheap, worn-out coat, and her manicures in the photos were gone, even her complexion looked poor. But I didn’t miss her smooth, well-maintained hair, her well-cared-for skin, and the possessive hickeys on her neck. I clenched my fingers, looking at her meek demeanor but harsh words, and said, “Celeste, I’ve found a lawyer. You will go to jail.” Celeste looked up, a sneer flashing quickly in her eyes, then she lowered her head, kneeling before me. But her mouth was full of malice, “I won’t go to jail, you’ll never see that day.” She muttered softly, “Cripple.” Just then, Jasper arrived, passing Celeste like a stranger, sitting next to me, asking, “It’s getting cold, Mrs. Jenkins made you soup, go home and drink it?” He glanced at Celeste as he spoke. I bit my lip; it was only ten minutes, and Jasper couldn’t wait to rescue her. “She just said something to me, I recorded it.” I struggled to keep my emotions in check, took out a recorder from my bag, and handed it to Jasper. For a moment, Celeste’s face turned pale. Jasper frowned slightly, playing the recording, and when it reached the “cripple” part, his brows furrowed, glaring at Celeste. “What did she say?” I looked at him, eyes hopeful. Jasper put away the recorder, his Adam’s apple moved—a sign he was about to lie. Then he signed, “She said she knows her mistake, sorry.” I stood up, my gaze lingering on Celeste, then unexpectedly slapped her across the face! Celeste’s head was knocked to the side, I used so much force that my palm tingled. “What’s the use of knowing your mistake? Going to prison is how you atone.” I said coldly. Celeste’s tears fell instantly, she looked at Jasper with grievance, but Jasper ignored her. “What did she say?” I asked him eagerly, my eyes full of anticipation. Jasper put the recorder away, swallowing hard—a subtle sign that he might not be telling the truth. In sign language, he replied, “She said she realized her mistake and apologized.” I stood up, my gaze lingering on Celeste before I suddenly slapped her across the face. The force of the slap made her head snap to the side. My hand stung from the impact. “Realizing your mistake is pointless. You need to pay for it in prison,” I said icily. Celeste’s tears fell immediately. She glanced at Jasper, seeking some sympathy, but he ignored her. Instead, he took my hand, gently massaging it, and signed, “Don’t get your hands dirty.” Jasper led me out of Celeste’s place, put me in the car, and then seemed to remember something. “I have a meeting with a client around noon. Can you head back first?” The driver was already in the seat. I nodded, and Jasper kissed my cheek before seeing me off. Once home, I put on my headphones and opened the surveillance app on my phone. The sounds of intimacy filled my ears. “She started it. Besides, she can’t hear, so what’s wrong with me saying a few things about her…” Celeste sat stubbornly on the couch in a suggestive maid outfit, her eyes red and on the verge of tears. “I know you’re in love with her. So, don’t come to me anymore. I shouldn’t be alive; dying would be better!” “Why don’t you just send me to prison then?” Jasper had already taken off his shirt and kissed Celeste hard, trying to act tough. “Two years ago, your life was mine. I won’t let you die, so don’t even think about it.” Seeing Celeste about to cry, he quickly wiped her tears away and sighed, “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Why say such things? How could I bear to send you to prison?” Jasper always believed I would eventually forgive Celeste. But that’s impossible. After I finished speaking with the private investigator, Jasper came home. I noticed the Twitter account following me had posted something new. A maid hiding her face, with a Rococo wallpaper background, clearly not the decor of that inner-city neighborhood.
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