No one cared. They just laughed louder.

"Please, Glen won't find out. He's just the deaf guy."

The laughter kept rolling.

I stood there, frozen. Couldn't move. Could barely breathe.

It wasn't until a server gently tapped my shoulder that I snapped out of it.

"Sir, do you need any assistance?"

The second the server spoke, the room went dead quiet.

Every head turned. Vanessa's face went full panic mode.

She yanked her hand off Eugene's waist, eyes darting everywhere but mine.

She started signing—why was I back, Eugene's just like a little brother.

Too bad she didn't notice her lipstick smeared on his mouth. Or that his hand was still chilling on her waist.

Eugene shot me a look—just enough mockery to make it sting.

I'd already planned to leave. But standing there, seeing it with my own eyes?

It hit harder than I expected. Took the air right out of me.

I forced a smile. "Came back to drop off your keys. Have fun."

I dropped the keys on the table and walked out, tuning out the voices behind me.

Out on the street, cars blurred past, lights flashing everywhere—and all I felt was cold.

I couldn't see straight. Couldn't hear anything.

Just like three years ago, when Vanessa and I first got together and ended up lost in the Goben Desert.

We wandered for a full day and night, wrapped in silence. The only thing I could do was hold her hand.

Back then, she signed, "If we die out here, at least it's a good ending for our love."

She used to say love should last until death.

Well, love's already dead.

And this? This was the ending.

***

When I got home, my body gave up. I dropped onto the bed and just stared at the ceiling, empty.

I met Vanessa at a job fair.

One look and I was done. No recovery.

After that, I chased her hard enough that everyone noticed.

She had a rep—ice-cold, untouchable. Turned down every confession like it was nothing.

Then there was me.

I looked for her every day. Spoke first. Asked her out. Meals, walks, excuses—whatever it took. I chased her like it was my full-time job. Three straight years.

She turned me down again and again. Didn't matter. My feelings didn't budge.

Then came that night.

A fired employee got wasted and snapped, cornered her outside the building. People scattered fast. Suddenly brave in every direction but hers.

I stayed.

I took the hits until everything went black, blood everywhere.

But the guy backed off.

After that, my ears went dead. Total silence.

That's when Vanessa finally fell for me.

She clutched my blood-soaked body like she was afraid I'd disappear, voice shaking. "Glen, let's get married."

Once we were together, my love never wavered. Hers went full blaze.

She never looked down on me for being deaf. Instead, she learned sign language nonstop, like proving something—to me, or maybe to herself.

Then the door unlocked.

The sound yanked me out of my head. I shifted slightly and played asleep.

Not long after, I felt the mattress shift behind me.

Then her hands slid over my body, familiar, practiced. Her breath—warm, damp—brushed my neck.

I knew that move. Knew exactly what it meant when her desire kicked in.

A few weeks ago, I wouldn't have lasted a second. I would've turned to her without thinking.

Now?

My stomach twisted.

All I felt was nausea. Disgust.

A week ago, my hearing came back. I walked in ready to tell her.

Instead, I heard Vanessa's wild moans coming from the next room.

My blood froze. For a second, I almost convinced myself I was imagining it.

I wasn't.

I shook as I reached the doorway. That's when it hit me—she already had someone else to lean on.

That day, she brought Eugene home. Slept with him like it was some adrenaline sport they'd hyped each other into.

She thought I was still deaf. Thought she'd wrapped it all up clean.

She had no idea I heard everything.

That same day, I signed up for a state-run volunteer teaching program in Northvale—middle-of-nowhere north—and booked a one-way ticket.

Just like the promise we made back then, I was going to vanish from her world for good.

The sounds of her and Eugene—burned into my head—kept looping in my ears. Wouldn't shut up.

I suddenly sat up and shoved Vanessa away. She screamed and hit the floor.

I froze. Instinct kicked in—go help her.

But I stopped myself.

She wasn't mad. Just worried. "Glen, what's wrong?"

I almost answered. Then I remembered—I was supposed to be deaf.

A beat later, it clicked for her. She switched to signing, asking what was wrong.

"It's nothing. I'm just not feeling well."

Panic flashed across her face, like she'd just remembered something.

She rushed in front of me, hands flying while her mouth kept up. "Glen, Eugene is just my junior from college. Don't get the wrong idea."

She was usually ice-cold. Tonight? Falling apart. All because of Eugene. Figures.

I didn't want to deal with it. "I'm tired. Let's sleep."

I turned onto my side.

She froze. A long silence passed. Then, softly, "Glen, I love you. I really, really love you. Don't leave me. If you do, I'll die."

Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, unstoppable.

If you loved me, why did you betray me?

We promised we'd never split.

But if betrayal ever showed its face—even once—we'd vanish from each other's worlds.

All those beautiful memories didn't survive the present. They shattered on impact, leaving nothing but illusions.

***

Early the next morning, Vanessa must've felt the shift. Or maybe the guilt finally crawled up from wherever she'd buried it.

She said she wanted to take me out, help me "take my mind off things."

"I've always wanted to go to an amusement park," she said. "I just never had time. Will you go with me?"

She rubbed her hands together, all small and pitiful, waiting for something—anything—from me.

What she didn't realize was her collar was loose, flashing pale skin stamped with Eugene's handiwork.

I didn't feel jealous.

I didn't feel sad.

Just disgust.

She moved fast. Before I could even process it, she'd packed a bag and was already out the door.

At the amusement park, she hovered. Every second.

If I pressed my lips together, water was there.

If my eyes lingered on anything, she bought it. No pause, no question.

Even rides I used to love—the ones she'd always been too scared to touch—she forced herself through, start to finish.

She was wiped, but her hand stayed locked around mine.

Any time I tried to pull away, even a little, her grip tightened.

By the end, she bought two matching string bracelets and tied them around our wrists herself.

"That way, you won't leave me."

I didn't say a word.

She pulled my hand over anyway, pressed it to her stomach.

"Glen, I'm pregnant. With your baby. From now on, our family has one more person who loves you."

She looked so gentle saying it.

My chest burned, anger climbing fast. 'You keep saying you love me. You still cheated. And now you want me to raise another man's kid?'

What did I do to earn this kind of punishment?

I stayed silent, face dark. Vanessa's smile slowly slipped. Then she signed the same words again.

Right. She still thought I couldn't hear.

I looked at her, flat and cold, and spoke. "Are you sure the baby's mine, and not someone else's?"

Panic flashed across her face. Just for a second. Then the smile snapped back into place.

"Of course it's yours—"

Her phone rang and saved her.

She stepped away. It took less than a minute. When she came back, her face was already set to apologetic.

"I'm sorry. Something came up at the company. I need to take care of it. I'll make it up to you next time."

Phone still in hand, she hurried off.

As she turned away, I caught the name glowing on her screen.

Eugene.

I stood up, slid the string bracelet off my wrist, and dropped it into the trash. Calm. Clean.

You care that much about Eugene? Fine. I'll clear the space.

From now on, the three of you can have each other.

***

Over the next few days, Vanessa didn't show up at all.

She drifted in once or twice, looking wrecked, stress carved between her brows.

Moved like a ghost. Like I might suddenly notice her.

I didn't ask.

I played the part—perfectly deaf, perfectly clueless.

Eugene's social feed, though? Loud as hell.

One post was a limited-edition sports car.

Next was a home-cooked meal—Vanessa's handiwork, proudly plated.

Every update screamed 'she's obsessed with me.'

And their mutuals ate it up, flooding the comments with jokes and congrats.

Me?

I stayed home.

Deleting every last trace of us.

Day one—Eugene posted Vanessa watching fireworks with him at some amusement park.

I pulled every photo of me and Vanessa off the walls. Ripped them up. Burned them to ash.

Day two—Eugene showed off a sea of flowers Vanessa had arranged just for him.

I hired workers and had the greenhouse she built for me demolished. Gone. No hesitation.

Last day—Eugene posted himself with his ear pressed to Vanessa's stomach. Real classy.

I finished packing and was about to walk out when the door opened.

Vanessa stood there after being gone forever.

Eyes bloodshot. Face tight. A document crushed in her hand.

"Glen," she said, "this says you applied for a volunteer teaching program in Northvale. Is that true?"