I became mute saving Chloe, my childhood sweetheart. When I discovered I could speak again, a surge of pure joy hit me. I suppressed my excitement, planning to surprise her on our wedding day. But on the eve of our wedding, she was going wild with some college guy in our marital home. Through the crack in the door, I saw her, flushed and breathless, sprawled across his toned abs. When she spoke of me, her voice dripped with utter contempt. “He’s just a mute. All he does is gesture with his hands all day. What right does he have to marry me?” She promised him, “I’m only doing this to keep up appearances for our families. You’re the one I love. I’d never leave you.” Yet later, at the wedding, Chloe frantically demanded they find me, insisting she had to marry me. But this time, I was truly going to leave her. I slammed the door shut, blocking out the sickening sight of their passionate encounter. After realizing I could speak, I’d practiced for days. I wanted to recite my wedding vows, to give Chloe the surprise of a lifetime. Now, it seemed I was the real clown. Chloe had said she wanted the most unique wedding in the world, so I’d worked day and night at the venue, overseeing every single detail, leaving nothing to chance. Returning to the chaotic wedding hall, I smashed everything I’d personally prepared. Then I went home and collapsed into a deep sleep. I woke up rested, my phone buzzing with a flood of messages and missed calls from Chloe. [Liam, the hotel told me you trashed the wedding venue. What the hell are you doing?!] [Why aren’t you answering my calls? What kind of tantrum are you throwing?!] [Do you even want to get married or not? If not, then forget it!] … [Liam, are you still mad at me? I really didn’t mean to stand you up…] Perhaps this was Chloe’s true face. First, she’d hit you hard, leaving you reeling, then when she felt like it, she’d offer a sweet little treat to lull you back. Keeping you firmly in the palm of her hand. Yesterday, she’d asked me to dinner, but I waited until the restaurant closed, and she never showed. No calls, no texts. Worried something had happened, I searched everywhere she might be. I never expected to find her in our marital home, listening to that wild, intimate act. She was used to having me wrapped around her little finger, always doing her bidding. But I got tired too. I glanced at the messages but didn’t reply. The front door burst open, and Chloe rushed in, her heels clicking urgently. Seeing me, she glared. “You were home! Why didn’t you reply to my messages? You made me look like an idiot, sending so many!” Watching her face flush with anger, I almost laughed. Was she finally experiencing the frustration of sending a pile of messages with no reply? I’d lived through that for eight years. Lived through her disappearing. I signed coldly, [I was asleep. Didn’t hear anything.] Chloe stepped forward, swatting my hands away, her anger flaring. “I told you to stop with the gesturing! I can’t understand you!” In the eight years I’d been mute, my parents and friends had learned to understand at least some simple sign language. But Chloe, the one I saved, never bothered. Whenever I tried to communicate with her through signs, she’d get annoyed and give me dirty looks. To this day, she couldn’t even understand the simplest sign for “thank you.” I wasn’t in the mood to sign, nor did I want to tell her I could speak again. Chloe slammed her bag onto the table and crossed her arms. “We’re getting married in a week. Why did you ruin the wedding venue?” Simple. I just didn’t want to marry her anymore. I was tired. Exhausted. Fed up. I typed a message on my phone, [Just wasn’t happy with how I decorated it.] Seeing my reply, Chloe’s tense expression softened. She linked her arm through mine, leaning gently on my shoulder. “You must be tired. Let’s just hand the wedding over to a planning company.” Her phone suddenly rang. She instantly pulled away from me, discreetly taking the call in another room. Through the thin door, her words were crystal clear. “I know you miss me, baby. I’ll still stay with you tonight.” “Him? Just thinking about sleeping with him after we get married makes me sick. He can’t even say a word. How could he compare to you?” “That dish you liked last time? I’ll get him to make it for you again.” The call ended with Chloe blowing a kiss into the air. She walked out of the room. I couldn’t help but recall Chloe’s behavior these past few days. She’d been coming home late for ages, and I’d only hear her heavy footsteps and the loud slam of the door late at night after I’d fallen asleep. I was mute, but I wasn’t deaf. Each time I was woken up, I found it hard to fall back asleep. I’d asked Chloe what kept her so busy, coming home so late every day. She’d always answer impatiently, “Work, obviously! Meeting clients, writing proposals, what else?” When I’d make her a hangover soup, she’d grumble behind my back. “He can’t even hold down a job himself, but he’s all up in my business.” Most of the time, I pretended not to hear. Turns out, her recent strange behavior was because she had another man, someone she was deeply invested in. Leaving me to be with someone else. “Make some food, I need to take it with me.” Then she added, “That same dish you brought to the office last time. Make it extra spicy.” So, the nourishing, carefully prepared meals I made for her had all gone into another man’s mouth. She had a sensitive stomach, and even though I used to love spicy food, I’d willingly switched to a bland diet for her. Now, she was catering to someone else’s taste, using *my* cooking to please *him*. It was laughable. I didn’t cook for Chloe. Instead, I went back to my parents’ house.
“Mom, Dad, I don’t want to marry Chloe anymore.” When they heard me speak, their eyes instantly welled up. My mother hugged me, sobbing, asking again and again if I’d truly recovered completely. My parents had never wanted me to follow Chloe around, let alone marry her, so they readily agreed to my request. Though I’d practiced for a long time, my voice was still hoarse and strained. My parents immediately contacted doctors abroad. I nodded. “Once I’ve handled everything here, I’ll go abroad for treatment in a week.” Back then, to save her, the enraged kidnappers had nearly choked me to death in a dilapidated warehouse. When I woke up, I couldn’t make a sound. Chloe was sobbing beside me, tears streaming down onto the hospital bed, soaking the sheets. After years of fruitless treatment, Chloe became disheartened. Unwilling to see her stressed and exhausted from all the traveling, I simply gave up. Chloe had said, “Liam, don’t be afraid. I won’t ever look down on you.” When I got home, Chloe was nowhere to be found. It seemed she’d wasted no time leaving the moment I did. My friend, Dylan, sent me a message with a video attached. [Liam, is this Chloe?] [Why is she hugging and kissing some guy at a bar? Aren’t you two getting married soon?] [That guy looks familiar. I think he’s Tyler, the new intern at the company.] In the dazzling, hazy lights of the bar, it was the same young college guy from last night. Chloe was grinding against him on the dance floor, passionately kissing him. Her slender arms were wrapped around his shoulders, intimately draped around his neck. Before, she wouldn’t even deign to give me a kiss. At our engagement party, I only had the right to kiss the back of her hand. She told me she liked to take things slow, that we should wait until after the wedding to kiss. But they’d only known each other a short time, and they were already hugging, kissing, and sleeping together. I was such a complete and utter fool. Chloe never liked me, not for a single moment. Back in school, she was the adored princess, completely oblivious to my feelings for her. It was only after I got hurt saving her that she even gave me a glance. Just as she’d said, she was willing to marry me only to keep up appearances. She just didn’t want to be known for being ungrateful. I contacted Dylan, setting up a meeting with the stock transfer agreement. He looked at me, bewildered. “Liam, isn’t this what you were planning to give Chloe as a wedding gift?” The three of us had started the company. Dylan and I each owned 33% of the shares, while Chloe held 34%. I’d always intended to transfer my 33% of the shares to Chloe for free when we got married, as a token of my sincerity. But now, I didn’t need to. After a moment of thought, I spoke, “She doesn’t need it anymore. I’ll transfer these shares to you at the lowest price. From now on, you’ll have veto power and won’t be controlled by her.” Dylan stared at my moving mouth, frozen in shock. It took him a long moment to process it. His voice was choked with emotion, tears of joy welling up. “Y-you’re… you’re better? Liam, you can speak!” I nodded, signing my name on the stock transfer agreement. Dylan was my best friend. I felt completely at ease leaving the company in his hands. Before, because I loved Chloe, I always overlooked her unreasonable business decisions and ignored Dylan’s concerns and complaints. Never again. The company would definitely thrive under Dylan’s leadership.
The next day, Chloe came home and angrily threw her expensive bag at my face. “Why did you fire Tyler?” My cheek stung, but I didn’t move as I rubbed it. Yesterday, I’d told Dylan to fire that college guy. He certainly worked fast. Chloe panicked. “He’s just an intern, he doesn’t earn much. How’s he going to survive if you fire him?” Every word, every phrase, she made no effort to hide her obvious favoritism and affection for Tyler. [Do you care about him that much?] Seeing my words, Chloe paused for a moment before speaking again, “No, I just… I just pity him. His family is struggling.” I said nothing more. Seeing my grim expression, Chloe patiently tried to appease me. “There are only a few days left until the wedding. Can we please not fight? You always listen to me, don’t you?” Fight? I hadn’t even said a harsh word. This wasn’t a fight, it was her unilateral outburst. I did listen to her. I listened until I ended up wearing a cuckold’s crown. [I checked his resume. His major doesn’t match, he’s not suitable for our company.] Chloe completely snapped, her sharp voice echoing through the room. “I have 34% of the company’s shares! I have absolute authority! What right do *you*, a mute, have to judge him?!” *You, a mute.* Her words brutally pierced my heart. Did I *want* to be mute? Did I *choose* to be mute? For all these years, I’d endured countless slights and disdain, yet I always acted as if I didn’t notice. Chloe’s words had always been this sharp and venomous. Why was it only now that I truly saw her? She called HR, demanding they keep Tyler’s job, but was regretfully informed that it was ordered by President Dylan. I took out the stock transfer agreement I’d signed with Dylan and showed it to her. One look, and she understood everything. “Why did you transfer the shares to him?! I’ve been talking about the shares for so long, and you never agreed to give them to me!” Her voice was tinged with tears. I just watched her, unmoved. [Chloe, if you despise me for being mute, we don’t have to get married. I’m not forcing you.] Chloe saw the words I’d typed, snatched the phone, and threw it to the floor. “How am I supposed to explain it if we don’t get married?! Liam, you don’t really love me!” I loved her, but did she love me? She was so utterly disregardful of my feelings and dignity, brazenly saying “explain” to humiliate me. Chloe was still crying when she received a call from Tyler. Over the phone, I heard Tyler’s pitiful voice, “Sister, my stomach hurts so much.” Tyler sounded like he’d been drinking with clients at a bar and was forced to down several bottles. Chloe’s heart ached for him. She completely ignored me, panicked, and rushed out the door. It made me feel even more like a clown. I used to always put Chloe first, everything revolved around her. In school, when she was bullied, I stepped in for her and ended up with a broken shin. But the very next day, she was laughing and talking with the boy who had bullied her. I tried to warn her to stay away from bad guys like him. She stubbornly refused, blaming me for messing up the face of the guy she had a crush on during the fight. I’ll never forget Chloe’s cold face, her watery eyes glaring at me, calling me a busybody. Thinking about my past foolish self, I just felt utterly ridiculous. How could I have endured so much, clinging to her despite her endless humiliations? Had I lost my damn mind back then? Shaking off those memories, I calmly entrusted the expensive wedding house to a real estate agent to sell at a low price. I never wanted to step foot in that house again. It was supposed to be my dream wedding home, chosen in the best location, with every detail of the renovation personally supervised. Every piece of furniture, every pot and pan, even every flower was something I’d carefully picked out and brought in myself. But now, it no longer mattered. I wanted to sell it, and along with it, cast out all the dirty memories it held from my life. Three days before the wedding, Chloe came to see me. “I won’t argue with you about the shares. You can ask Dylan to give them back after we get married.” Before I could say anything, she linked her arm through mine intimately, blinking her eyes. “The wedding venue is all set up! Want to go see it?” I was curious to see how the wedding venue I’d trashed could be restored so quickly. Stepping into the familiar wedding hall again, everything felt… unfamiliar. Chloe, however, seemed very pleased. She’d brought a man with her. “Liam, Tyler personally decorated our wedding venue. Look at his hands!” I lowered my gaze, seeing his bloodied fingers. “He got his hands completely pricked by thorns, all for this flower sea.” Tyler ruffled his hair, smiling brightly, like a dog trying to please. “As long as Sister Chloe and Brother Liam are happy, I don’t care what happens to me.” Chloe looked at Tyler’s hands, her heart aching, and couldn’t help but gently take them. I thought of my own hands. During the wedding preparations, Chloe had never once visited, so she naturally hadn’t seen my battered hands, scarred from wood splinters, pricked by thorns, healing and then getting injured again, a mess. Yet, when I’d taken Chloe’s hand, she’d recoiled in disgust. She’d scornfully looked at my scarred hands, complaining they felt rough against her delicate skin. Tyler was young, sunny, and knew how to charm. Seeing Chloe’s sympathy, he pouted and whined, sweetly calling her “Sister.” Chloe told me to rest while she went to discuss the wedding flow with the planner. She probably figured, since I was mute anyway, there was no need for me to go. Watching Tyler and Chloe walk into the same hotel floor, one after the other, I let out a cold laugh. In the hallway, urgent gasps echoed. Before they even entered the room, their lips were already passionately entangled. Chloe was pinned against the wall by Tyler, her eyes hazy from his kisses. I heard Tyler say, “Sister, it really breaks my heart that you’re marrying him.” “Decorating your wedding venue nearly killed me, Sister. Do you want to kill me?” Chloe wrapped her arms around his neck and chuckled, “I’ll only kill you in bed.” They entered the room, and intimate sounds poured out. Going downstairs, I called the police and reported prostitution at the hotel. The police arrived. Chloe claimed they were boyfriend and girlfriend. After some proof, the police left. Seeing Chloe’s flushed face, I walked over. She panicked. “Liam… how did you get up here?”
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