I saved Ryder Torres from a car crash, and in return, I lost my hearing in my left ear forever.

In our five years of marriage, I told him the story of how I saved his life thirty-three times.

But it never seemed to register.

He’d grow impatient in noisy ballrooms when I had to tilt my head, my reactions a beat too slow.

"Willow, can't you just focus? It's so rude when you can't even hear people talking to you."

He even complained to his friends: "See? She’s always a beat behind. So annoying."

It wasn't until the company's charity gala that I saw it with my own eyes. He’d lower his head to his assistant, Scarlett Monroe, his lips almost brushing her ear as he patiently repeated every word, terrified she might miss a single detail.

He shielded another woman from the slightest discomfort, yet the world of silence I had entered to save him was, in his eyes, nothing more than a personal flaw.

In that moment, a sharp ringing pierced my head.

I finally understood. In his eyes, this deaf ear wasn't a badge of honor; it was a mark of shame.

And my love, it seemed, was just as worthless.

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1

My heart shattering, I stumbled out onto the hotel terrace, desperate for air.

Suddenly, I bumped into two drunk men.

They seized my wrists, their leering eyes raking over my body.

"Well, hello there, gorgeous. Don't cozy up to us and then play coy."

I struggled fiercely, but their grip was like iron.

My struggles only seemed to amuse them. "Oh, playing hard to get? We know all about rich wives like you. You're wilder than anyone when no one's looking."

With that, the two of them began dragging me toward a dark corner of the terrace.

Fear, cold and sharp, consumed me. My eyes darted around frantically until I spotted Ryder approaching, with Scarlett Monroe tucked under his arm.

Scarlett seemed to have twisted her ankle and was leaning heavily against him.

I screamed with all my might, "Ryder, save me!"

Ryder heard me. His head snapped up, but the moment he saw me, his brow knitted in annoyance.

Scarlett, however, spoke first. Even from a distance, I could read the faint trace of malice on her lips.

"Ryder, I just saw Willow smiling at them. They must know each other. Maybe we shouldn't interrupt?"

Ryder's expression instantly hardened, his eyes icing over with disgust.

The two men immediately chimed in, "Yeah, yeah, we know her! Just fooling around!"

"No! I don't know them!" I tried desperately to explain, but a sharp pain shot through my arm as one of them tightened his grip.

"Willow Hayes, how long are you going to make a scene?"

Ryder's voice was low, seething with anger. He didn't believe a word I said.

"Resorting to such a pathetic trick just to get my attention? Getting mixed up with this kind of trash?"

My arm throbbed with a searing pain as humiliation washed over me in a suffocating wave.

By the time I looked up, he was already turning away, his arm wrapped securely around Scarlett.

Scarlett even glanced back timidly and said, "Ryder, do you think Willow will be mad at me? The way she looked at me was so scary..."

"I'm here. She wouldn't dare."

Anger and grief surged through me, and all my pent-up frustrations erupted. I screamed at his retreating back with every ounce of strength I had left:

"Ryder Torres, if you walk away today, we are getting a divorce!"

His steps faltered for a second, but he didn't look back, just tossed a cold sentence over his shoulder. "Divorce? Grow up, Willow. That threat stopped working on me years ago."

Without another glance, he led Scarlett away, disappearing into the brilliant lights of the ballroom.

Without Ryder's intimidating presence, the two men grew bolder, dragging me toward a car parked by the road.

"You hear that? Your husband doesn't even want you. Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll take good care of you!"

While they fumbled to open the car door, I slipped off my high heel and smashed it against one of their heads with all my might, then ran for my life into the crowded square.

Only when I was sure I wasn't being followed did I collapse onto a park bench, barefoot and trembling, hugging my arms to my chest.

My phone lit up. Scarlett had updated her Instagram.

In the photo, Ryder sat in the car, gently draping his own suit jacket over her shoulders.

It was a tenderness I hadn't received once in five years.

A moment later, a message from Ryder buzzed on my phone:

"Scarlett was frightened by your outburst. I'm taking her home. I'll have the driver pick you up."

Fighting back the pain in my wrist and the acid of humiliation in my throat, I wiped away my tears and replied:

"Don't bother, Ryder. This time, I mean it. Let's get a divorce."

Huddled on the cold park bench, my mind drifted back to how it all began with Ryder.

We first met at a college party.

That day, someone had "accidentally" splashed red wine all over my white dress. I stood frozen in the middle of the room, helpless and mortified.

As laughter swirled around me, Ryder stepped out from the throng. He tossed his jacket over my shoulders and then melted back into the crowd.

He was the heir to the Torres family, a star on campus, while I was just another face in the crowd. That was our only interaction.

For the next four years of college, I nursed a secret crush on him.

After graduation, just as I was ready to let it go, I stumbled upon him being cornered by thugs in a parking garage.

I don't know where the courage came from, but I rushed over and fought them off with pepper spray. But as I was checking if he was hurt, one of the thugs gunned his car straight for us.

Without a second thought, I shoved him out of the way. After a deafening crash, my world dissolved into a piercing ring. Shattered glass had perforated my left eardrum, causing permanent damage.

When I woke up, the doctor told me I was completely and irreversibly deaf in my left ear. I broke down, clawing at my ear until my nails came away bloody.

Ryder seized my hand, knelt on one knee, and slid a diamond ring onto my finger.

"Willow Hayes," he proposed solemnly, "I will be your left ear. I will take responsibility for you for the rest of my life."

I knew he didn't love me. This was just his conscience speaking.

But looking at the man I had adored for years, I decided to take the gamble.

I gambled that one day, my love could thaw his heart.

Ryder did keep his word. In five years of marriage, as the CEO of Torres Capital, he never had a public scandal.

But he always forgot to walk on my right side. He'd always speak with his back to me, then fly into a rage when I couldn't hear him.

Now that he had someone he truly loved, there was no need for me to cling to this arrangement any longer.

I lost. And I accepted it.

I picked up my phone and sent a message to my lawyer: "Please draft a divorce agreement for me."

I didn't wait for the driver. I went straight back to the penthouse we shared.

Looking around the home I had lived in for five years, I realized just how separate our lives were. The whole place felt as cold and impersonal as a model home.

He occupied the spacious master bedroom, while I was relegated to the guest room at the far end of the hall. I was only permitted in his room when he wanted me.

I used to think it was just his preference for privacy. Now I understood. It was simply because he never cared.

The next message from Ryder arrived two days later.

"Usual place. Party tonight. Be there."

I took one last look at the house, which no longer held any trace of me, and drove to the private club with the divorce papers in my purse.

Only when I arrived did I realize he had booked the entire venue to celebrate Scarlett's birthday.

I thought of myself. In five years, we had never once celebrated my birthday or our anniversary.

Ryder always dismissed it. "That's all superficial nonsense, Willow. I'd rather close another deal."

It turned out the gesture wasn't superficial at all. He was just saving it for the right person.

As I was about to push open the door to the private room, I heard Ryder talking with his friend, Caleb.

"Ryder, Willow really is the perfect wife—obedient, never makes a fuss. Like a pretty doll with no temper."

"Of course. All that effort we put into that 'test' back then was to find someone who would literally die for me."

"I still crack up thinking about the parking garage, how she just threw herself in front of me."

"Yeah, we calculated the speed of that junker. Even if she hadn't pushed you, you'd have been fine. A few scrapes at most."

"And because she's half-deaf, I can be on the phone with Scarlett right in front of her, and she's completely clueless. Just assumes I'm talking business."

I staggered back, a chill racing down my spine.

No wonder Ryder had shut me down whenever I insisted on calling the police, claiming he didn't want to make a big deal of it.

No wonder I had told the story thirty-three times, and he still couldn't remember the details, even finding it annoying.

Of course. Who would care about the feelings of a puppet?

What a ridiculous, deaf fool I’d been, living in a silent lie they had so carefully woven.

As I stood there, stunned, cheers erupted from the room. "Kiss her! Kiss her!"

Through the crack in the door, I saw Ryder and Scarlett locked in a passionate kiss as the crowd cheered them on.

Scarlett’s gaze met mine over his shoulder, her eyes glinting with triumph. Her lips formed a single word I could read perfectly: "Freak."

After the kiss ended, a drunk man came up and slurred, "Ryder, since you don't love her, why not share Willow with us? You're tired of her anyway, right?"

Everyone waited, hungry for the drama. Ryder just smirked, his tone dangerously light. "She's still my legal wife, for now. Let's not get carried away."

I sneered inwardly.

My legal wife? Not for long.

Clutching the divorce papers, I shoved the door open and walked in.