He Hated His Mute Wife, Until She Died to Save Him

I married a mute girl who was nothing but a stand-in. For three years, I treated her with absolute coldness.

On the day she died, she left me with only three things: a voice recorder, a diary, and a sign language translator.

That was when I finally learned

She was the little girl I rescued when I was ten.

She was the savior who pulled me out of the car wreck when I was seventeen.

She was the wife who had loved me silently for twenty years.

And I was the one who personally drove her to her death.

**1**

I married Sera Vance on a cloudy day.

There was no wedding, no rings. We just signed the papers and took a quick photo at City Hall.

She tried her best to smile for the camera, but her lips were stiff.

I knew why. The night before, I had told her, "Your profile looks just like Chloes. Too bad youre mute."

During our three years of marriage, she was invisible to me.

Tonight, I brought another woman home to spend the night, deliberately letting her see.

Sera sat in the darkest corner of the living room, looking like a faded shadow.

The other woman's high heels clicked past her, her perfume suffocatingly strong.

"Ethan, your maid is really quiet," she giggled, leaning into me.

That wasnt a maid. That was my wife.

But I just said, "Yeah, she won't make a sound."

In the middle of the night, I went downstairs for a glass of water. Sera was still sitting there. When she saw me, she slowly raised her hands.

Her fingers traced shapes in the air, over and over again. I recognized that gesture: money.

"Can you give me a hundred thousand dollars? It's to save a life," she signed, her eyes filled with fear.

I laughed. I pulled my checkbook from my suit pocket, tore off a page, crouched down, and tossed it onto her lap.

"Faking an illness?" I sneered. "A mute like you doesn't deserve to copy Chloe's pitiful acts."

Her eyelashes trembled. She looked down at the paper, slowly curling her fingers into a tight fist.

Her shoulders were shaking. *Quite an actress,* I thought.

I stood up and poured myself a glass of whiskey, watching her through the reflection of the bar mirror.

She bent down, picked up the check, and held it up to the light. She stared at it so seriously, as if she could actually cash it.

"What do you need the money for?" I asked casually.

She signed, *My brother's surgery.*

"What brother? Since when do you have family?" I scoffed. "Or is it some secret lover you're keeping on the side?"

She snapped her head up, her eyes turning red. She shook her head frantically, her signing fast and chaotic: *No! My real brother! He's in the hospital!*

"Enough," I cut her off. "I'll have my assistant wire you ten thousand dollars tomorrow. Take it and stop bothering me."

She froze. Slowly lowering her hands, she folded the check into a tiny square and clutched it tightly in her palm.

I turned and walked upstairs. At the top of the stairs, I looked back.

She was still sitting there, staring at her palm. A single tear fell onto the check, and she quickly wiped it away with her sleeve.

How ridiculous.

She did it all for money, yet she still acted so aggrieved.

Her brother? She had never mentioned him.

It was probably just another lie to squeeze cash out of me.

A week later, Sera vanished.

At first, I didn't even notice. She was like airpractically invisible.

It wasn't until the third day that our housekeeper asked hesitantly, "Mr. Sterling, is Mrs. Sterling on a business trip? Should I clean her room?"

Only then did I realize I hadn't seen her in a while.

On the dining table lay a divorce agreement.

The paper was slightly wrinkled, and her signature, "Seraphina Vance," was shaky and uneven, as if she had barely had the strength to write it.

The last stroke dragged out, unfinished.

Next to it was a printed note: *I'm sorry for wasting three years of your life.*

Just that one sentence.

I crumpled the paper and threw it in the trash.

Right then, Chloe called. "Ethan, I'm back! I made some soup right after landing. Can I bring it over?"

"Sure," I replied. "Bring enough for tonight. You're staying over."

**2**

Chloe arrived and naturally walked into the master bedroom.

Spotting Sera's lip balm on the vanity, she frowned and tossed it into the trash.

"Ethan, we should redecorate this house," she said. "There are too many traces of that other girl everywhere."

"Do whatever you want," I murmured, wrapping my arms around her waist.

Late at night, Chloe fell asleep. Driven by some strange urge, I walked over to Sera's room and pushed the door open.

It was completely empty.

The closet doors were wide open, leaving nothing but bare hangers.

The vanity was spotless, not even a single strand of hair left behind.

Only the bookshelf remained fullstacked with sign language textbooks, from beginner to advanced, arranged by year.

I pulled one out and flipped through it. On the margins, there were neat pencil notes in her elegant handwriting:

*"Today I learned how to sign 'Hello,' but no one said it to me."*

*"The nurse signed 'Keep fighting' to me, and I cried."*

*"If I could speak, what would be the first thing I'd want to say?"*

On the very last page, there was a tiny line: *"I want to ask him if he still remembers the little girl by the river."*

The little girl by the river?

What nonsense.

I shoved the book back, turned off the light, and left.

It was better this way.

It was time to make room for Chloe anyway.

Three months passed with zero news of Sera.

Since Chloe and I had made up, we had been living together.

On the day she officially moved in, she hired movers to throw out all of Sera's things.

The sofa, the curtains, the tablewareeverything was replaced.

"Finally, this place feels like our home," Chloe said, leaning against my shoulder.

I nodded, but an inexplicable irritation clawed at my chest.

That afternoon, my phone rang with an unknown number.

"Hello, is this Mr. Ethan Sterling? This is the Greenfield Care Center."

"What is it?"

"Ms. Seraphina Vance's body has been kept in our morgue for three months past the limit. We need a family member to handle the final arrangements. Regarding the fees"

I interrupted, "Is this a new scam? How much did she pay you to put on this show?"

The voice on the other end faltered. "Mr. Sterling, this is not a show. Ms. Vance passed away three months ago, and her body has been unclaimed. We found your number in her emergency contacts. You are listed as her husband."

I laughed. "She really knows who to target. Let me tell you, Seraphina is perfectly fine. I just heard from her yesterday."

I hung up.

Sitting in my office, I lit a cigarette. Through the rising smoke, my fingers subconsciously tapped the keyboard.

I logged into my online banking to check her authorized card's transaction history.

On the fifth of every month, there was a recurring 0-00,000 charge to "Greenfield Care Center."

It had gone on for three years, never missing a month.

The last payment was made three months agoexactly when she disappeared.

Ten thousand dollars.

Exactly the amount I had promised her.

I clicked on the payment details. The recipient was indeed Greenfield Care Center.

The memo for every single transaction read: *Care fees for Leo Vance.*

Leo Vance.

The name sounded vaguely familiar.

Then I rememberedwhen we got married, I had glanced at her family registry. She had a younger brother named Leo.

At the time, I thought he was just some distant relative and ignored it.

I called the care center back, my tone completely different. "I'm Leo Vance's family. I want to know what's going on."

The representative was polite. "Mr. Vance has been in a vegetative state since a car accident in 2016. His sister, Ms. Seraphina Vance, has been solely responsible for his expenses and visits. But she hasn't shown up in three months, and we haven't been able to reach her."

A car accident in 2016.

"We heard he was hit by a car while trying to save a child."

Leo... a vegetative state... Sera paying ten thousand a month... Where did she get that kind of money?

I drove home and went straight to the guest room she had occupied for three yearswhich was now Chloe's walk-in closet.

Chloe wasn't home.

I pushed the door open. The room was packed with her designer clothes and bags. In the corner sat a few cardboard boxes labeled "For Trash."

Those were the last of Sera's belongings.

**3**

I opened the first box.

It contained her clothespainfully plain and worn. The sweaters were pilled, and the shirt collars were frayed.

Not a single decent outfit.

The second box was filled with books. All about sign language and special education. At the bottom of the box was a small metal tin, locked shut.

I grabbed a pair of pliers and snapped the lock.

Inside was a pink diary with a worn plastic cover and a few faded photographs.

I opened it.

On the title page, a line of ink was slightly smudged: *To the little hero who saved me Seraphina, June 2010.*

2010. The year I was ten.

My fingers trembled as I turned the pages.

*June 12, 2010. Sunny.*

*Today by the river, a giant billboard suddenly fell. A boy rushed over and pushed me out of the way. He got hit instead. His arm was bleeding so much, and I was terrified. But he smiled at me and said, "It's fine, I'm a tough guy."*

*His eyes were so bright. I asked for his name, and he said "Ethan." Ethan Sterling.*

*I took him to the clinic. He winced in pain while the nurse bandaged him up, but he kept saying, "It doesn't hurt, really."*

*When he left, he told me, "Be careful next time, little girl."*

*I wanted to say thank you, but I was too nervous and couldn't make a sound. I could only nod frantically.*

*June 20, 2010. Cloudy.*

*I went back to the river to wait for him, but he didn't show up. Mom said I was silly, that he'd never remember a passing remark. But I believe he will.*

*July 5, 2010. Rainy.*

*I saw him on the street today! He was with a group of boys, laughing loudly. I wanted to say hi, but I didn't dare. I'm such a coward.*

The diary entries were sporadic, with only a few pages for each year. Every single one was about "Ethan."

The final entry was dated June 17, 2016the day of my car crash.

The handwriting was messy, written in hurried pencil:

*A car crash on Redwood Road. He was hit. When I rushed over to pull him out, a shard of glass sliced deep into my neck.*

*It hurt so badly. But I had to save him.*

*He was bleeding everywhere. I couldn't scream, so I could only pull him with all my strength.*

*The ambulance arrived. They wouldn't let me get in because I couldn't speak.*

*Which hospital did they take him to? Is he still alive?*

*God, please, let him live.*

The diary ended there.

The rest of the pages were completely blank.

I collapsed onto the floor, my back against the closet. The diary in my hand felt as heavy as lead.

So the little girl by the river was her.

She had known me since she was ten.

She had remembered me all this time.

Why did she never say a word?

I drove straight to the hospital where Sera had been treated.

I used my connections to find Dr. Robert Bennett, who had treated her back then. He was already retired, but I practically dragged him out to meet me.

"Seraphina Vance? I remember her," Dr. Bennett said, adjusting his glasses. "That poor girl broke my heart."

"What happened to her voice?"

"It wasn't congenital. When she was sixteen, she suffered a penetrating neck wound. A shard of glass severed her vocal cords. When she was brought in, she was covered in blood, but she kept frantically signing, asking about another patient's condition."

"Where did she get injured?"

"Redwood Road. On the afternoon of June 17, 2016."

Dr. Bennett remembered it vividly. "That massive pile-up killed three people. The teenager she saved was lucky to survive."

My throat tightened. "The person she saved... was it me?"

Dr. Bennett looked at me and sighed. "So it was you. She shielded you with her body. When the glass flew toward you, she pushed you away, taking the blow herself..."

"Why didn't she tell me?" my voice cracked. "Why did no one tell me?"

"She wanted to, but she couldn't speak."

**4**

Dr. Bennett pulled an old medical record from his drawer. "Besides, there was another girl who stayed by your bedside the whole time, claiming she was your savior. We assumed they were friends."

It was Chloe.

She had stolen Sera's credit.

"And Seraphina didn't deny it?"

"How could she? She couldn't speak, and her hands shook too violently to write."

Dr. Bennett let out a bitter laugh. "Plus, that Chloe girl told us Seraphina was just a random passerby who lent a hand. So we believed her."

I took the file and flipped to the injury report:

*Penetrating neck trauma, severed vocal cords. Multiple glass shards remaining. Surgery recommended, but patient's family refused to sign the consent form.*

*Patient herself vehemently insisted on prioritizing the treatment of Ethan Sterling (the other victim).*

*Note: Patient cannot speak, communicates via writing. Repeatedly inquires about Ethan Sterling's condition and begs us not to inform the Sterling family of her injuries to avoid placing a financial burden on them.*

My eyes welled with hot tears.

That foolish girl.

She was hurt so badly, yet she was still worried about being a burden to me.

"Did her voice... never recover?"

Dr. Bennett shook his head. "She missed the critical window for surgery. By the time she wanted to do it later, she had no money."

"No money?" I froze. "My family was supposed to cover all the medical expenses back then"

"She refused it," Dr. Bennett said, looking at me. "Your father did go to see her and offered financial compensation. She turned it down. The only thing she asked for was a photo of your recovery."

I couldn't stand anymore. I collapsed into a chair, my head spinning.

So all these years, she had remained mute because of me.

The car accidentshe was the one who saved me.

And Chloe... had lied to me for seven years.

What have I done?

Greenfield Care Center was located in the suburbs, a place so quiet it felt almost desolate.

I registered at the front desk. When the nurse heard I was Leo Vance's family, her expression turned complicated.

"Ms. Vance hasn't been here in three months," she said. "She used to come every single Sunday, without fail."

"Take me to him."

The room was at the end of the second floor. I pushed the door open to see a thin young man lying on the bed, hooked up to various tubes.

He looked to be in his early twenties, and his facial features closely resembled Sera's.

He lay there with his eyes closed, as if sleeping peacefully.

The nurse said softly, "Leo Vance has been in a vegetative state for years. In 2016, he was hit by a car while pushing a child out of the way."

2016 again.

Saving someone again.

Did this brother and sister never learn to put themselves first?

"Did his sister... come often?"

"Every Sunday." The nurse retrieved a small metal tin from a drawer. "This is what Ms. Vance left behind. She said if she ever couldn't make it, to give it to whoever came to see Leo."

I opened the tin.

Inside was an old voice recorder and a stack of small notes. The notes were filled with handwritten messages, some already faded:

*"Leo, today I learned how to cook your favorite braised pork."*

*"Leo, Ethan smiled today, though it wasn't because of me."*

*"Leo, you have to wake up quickly. I might not be able to... accompany you for much longer."*

The recorder was low on battery. I asked the nurse for a charger and plugged it in. Once it powered up, I pressed play.

After some static, her soft, strained breathing filled the room.

The first recording, dated three years ago:

*"Leo, I got married today. He's a wonderful man, even though he doesn't love me yet. But that's okay. Just being able to see him every day makes me so happy."*

*"Your surgery is still short on funds, but he gave me a credit card. Leo, you're going to be saved."*

*"When you get better, I'll take you to meet him. I know he'll like you."*

The second recording, two years ago:

*"Leo, I'm sorry. I'm really sad today."*

*"He brought another woman home and made me sleep in the guest room. That woman wore my slippers and used my cup."*

*"But I have no right to be sad. This marriage was stolen by me in the first place."*

*"As long as you get better, I can endure anything."*

The third recording, one year ago:

*"Leo, I'm sick. My throat hurts terribly, and I've been coughing up blood."*

*"The doctor says it's late-stage cancer."*

*"The surgery costs a fortune, and there's only a thirty percent survival rate. If it fails, I'll lose my voice forever."*

*"But I've already lost my voice anyway. So, I won't do the treatment."*

*"I'll save the money for your awakening surgery. Leo, you have to live well for both of us."*

The fourth recording, six months ago:

*"Ethan asked me today why I'm always acting mute. He said the way I try to play the victim makes him sick."*

*"Leo, I'm not acting. I really... can't make a sound."*

*"If I could speak, I would tell him: I am the little girl by the river, and I am the one who saved you on Redwood Road."*

*"But I can't. Maybe it's for the best. Some secrets are meant to be taken to the grave."*

**5**

The final recording, three months ago:

*"Leo, this is my last recording."*

*"I've finally gathered enough for your surgery. Two hundred thousand dollars, exactly."*

*"Ethan refused to give me the money, but that's okay. I sold everything I couldmy wedding ring, grandmother's emerald necklace, and the gold chain my mother left me."*

*"I was still short by two thousand. So I went to sell my plasma. The nurse said I was too thin and didn't want to take it, but I begged her until she drew a full bottle."*

*"I feel so dizzy, but when I think about your surgery, the dizziness fades."*

*"Leo, I'm sorry. I can only walk with you this far."*

*"If the surgery is a success and you wake up... please don't hate me for leaving you."*

*"And please don't hate Ethan. He's the boy I've loved since I was ten. I've loved him for twenty whole years."*

*"Loving someone is never a crime."*

*"The only mistake was mine, for wishing he could love me back."*

The recording ended with muffled, suppressed crying.

Then, with what seemed like all her remaining strength, she uttered a few broken, agonizing syllables:

*"E... th... an..."*

*"I... love..."*

*"you..."*

The audio cut out.

I sat in the hospital room, clutching the recorder. My tears splashed onto my hands, burning hot.

The nurse stood by the door and whispered, "The last day Ms. Vance came, she couldn't even walk. The orderly had to push her up in a wheelchair."

"She sat here for the entire afternoon, holding her brother's hand."

"When she left, she signed: 'Leo, when I become a star, I will always be watching over you.'"

I buried my face in my hands, my shoulders shaking violently.

Seraphina, come back.

I'll give everything back to you.

Please, come back.

When I stormed back home, Chloe was trying on a newly bought dress.

"Ethan, look at this" She froze when she saw the expression on my face. "What's wrong?"

"Redwood Road, 2016," I said, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "Who was the person who actually saved me?"

Chloe's face instantly drained of color.

"O-of course it was me. Why are you suddenly asking this..."

"Seraphina's vocal cords were severed by flying glass during that crash." I glared at her. "She pushed me out of the way, taking the blow to save my life. And youyou stole her credit, lying to me for seven years!"

Chloe took a step back, bumping into the vanity. Bottles and jars shattered all over the floor.

"I didn't mean to..." she sobbed, her voice trembling. "You were unconscious, and I just happened to pass by. When the nurse asked if I was the one who saved you, I... I had a moment of weakness..."

"A moment of weakness?" I let out a dry laugh, tears streaming down my face. "You stole the fact that she saved my life! You stole seven years of my gratitude! You stole the love that belonged to her! And you're telling me it was just a moment of weakness?!"

"But Seraphina herself never said anything!" Chloe screamed suddenly. "If she wanted to tell you, she would have! She chose to stay silent!"

"How could she tell me?!" I grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her. "Her vocal cords were severed! Her hands shook too much to write! And you threatened her, didn't you? Tell me you threatened her!"

Chloe's pupils contracted in terror.

In that instant, I understood everything.

"What did you say to her?" my voice was cold as ice. "What did you tell her?"

"I... I said if you knew the truth, you'd live with guilt for the rest of your life," Chloe wept. "I said you had just recovered from a severe injury and couldn't handle the shock. I said... I said if your life was miserable because of her, she would suffer even more."

"And she believed you." I let go of her, stumbling back. "She actually believed your toxic lies."

That was why Seraphina stayed silent.

That was why she watched me shower Chloe with gratitude, watch me pamper Chloe, and watch me give all the tenderness that belonged to her to another woman.

She didn't even have the courage to tell me who she was.

Because she was terrified of making me feel guilty.

Because that foolish girl would rather swallow all her pain than cause me a single moment of discomfort.

"Get out," I told Chloe.

"Ethan..."

"Pack your trash and get out of my house. Never let me see your face again."