His Mute Wife's Goodbye Revenge

Nyelle “It’s been five years… and I hate to admit it, but I’ve always loved you…” Vincent’s voice froze me the second I stepped into the dark living room. My fingers tightened around the small cake box in my hands while my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. Rose petals were scattered across the floor in messy heart shapes, candles flickered softly on the center table, and tiny golden lights hung across the walls like stars trapped inside the room. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Did… did he really do this for me? Just a few hours ago, I had sat alone in the hospital hallway calling him over and over again while my hands shook so badly I could barely hold my phone properly. Each time, he declined the call. Again and again. Then the doctor had looked at me with that careful expression people used when they were about to destroy your entire world. “You have cancer.” Those three words had shattered something inside me. “You have less than two years to live.” Even now, I could still hear his voice inside my head like an echo that refused to stop. My chest tightened painfully as I stood there staring at the decorations in front of me. I had cried in the hospital bathroom until my eyes turned red, then cleaned my face, bought an anniversary cake, and forced myself to smile because today was our fifth wedding anniversary. Five years. Five years of loving a man who never truly loved me back. Yet standing there now, seeing all this, my stupid heart still fluttered with hope. Maybe something had changed. Maybe after all these years… he finally saw me. “Will you marry me again?” Vincent’s voice came again from the darkness, softer this time. A smile immediately spread across my face before I could stop it. My heart beat so fast it almost hurt. Tears burned my eyes. Yes Yes, I would. I would still choose him even after everything. “Yes… I will marry you.” The feminine voice cut through the room so suddenly that my entire body stiffened. Click. The lights came on and the cake slipped from my hands. It crashed against the floor, cream splattering across my shoes while the box rolled away. I couldn’t move or even blink. Cassia, my stepsister, stood beside Vincent in a short body-hugging dress, looking perfect in ways I never could. The same woman who disappeared on their wedding day and left me behind to take her place. And Vincent… the way he looked at her completely destroyed me. I had spent five years begging silently for even a fraction of that softness. “They look so good together.” The clapping started immediately. My stomach twisted violently. Nobody in this room knew I was Vincent’s wife. Nobody. To them, I was probably just his mute secretary standing there looking stupid while another woman got proposed to. I bit down hard on my lower lip to stop it from trembling. But the memories came rushing back anyway. “She’s mute. Why would I marry her?!” Vincent’s furious voice echoed inside my head from five years ago. I remembered standing silently in my father’s office while Vincent argued like I was some burden being forced onto him. “It’s for our company,” my father had said coldly, not even looking at me properly. “This marriage is necessary.” That was all I had ever been, a transaction and replacement. The daughter with no voice and no choice. Even on our wedding night, Vincent had made the rules painfully clear. “You’ll only be my wife when I need s*x,” he had told me without emotion while loosening his tie. “Apart from that, you’re nothing to me.” And he stayed true to those words, even after five years, I was still nothing. Yet like an i***t, the second I saw those flowers tonight, I thought maybe things were changing. But now that Cassia was back, he didn’t even waste time. As soon as Vincent noticed me standing there, his brows lifted slightly in surprise before he casually walked toward me like this wasn’t destroying me piece by piece. “You’re back,” he said calmly. I just stared at him. He glanced briefly at the ruined cake on the floor before looking back at me without guilt. “Your sister is back, so you know the deal.” His tone remained flat, careless. “I’ll send the divorce papers soon. Sign them when they arrive because Cassia and I are getting married this week.” This week? My fingers twitched violently at my sides. Suddenly, breathing became difficult. Cassia walked toward us with a dramatic pout before wrapping both hands around Vincent’s arm. “Aw, still can’t speak?” she asked mockingly while staring directly at me. “You still didn’t get surgery to make yourself talk?” Her lips curved with amusement. Then her eyes slowly moved down my body. “Anyway, thanks for keeping my man safe for me.” She laughed softly. “And thanks for not getting pregnant too.” Her hand brushed lightly against my stomach. The movement nearly made me flinch. Pregnant? How could I possibly get pregnant? Every single time Vincent touched me, it felt cold. Mechanical. Like obligation instead of intimacy. And whenever he got close to climax, he always pulled away immediately, making sure nothing happened. “I can’t let you carry my child.” He said it every time, every single time. Meanwhile, I had always wanted children desperately. I used to imagine tiny fingers wrapping around mine. Tiny footsteps running through empty hallways. Someone who would love me completely without seeing me as a burden first. But Vincent never gave me that chance. And now…Now I was dying, and I had less than two years left. The thought made something crack inside me. Why should I leave this world with absolutely nothing? My breathing became shaky, but somehow I still managed to straighten my back. Slowly, I lifted my iPad with trembling fingers while Vincent watched impatiently. I typed quickly. Then I turned the screen toward him. “One month,” it read. “Let me be your wife for one month. Your real wife, after that I'll sign the divorce papers.”