Chapter 1

After catching David Grant cheating for the third time, I developed aphasia.

Out of guilt, David spent an entire month teaching me how to communicate using only 1 and 2.

One meant yes. Two meant no.

But whenever the conversation involved Emily Foster, I always answered with 1.

He told me Emily was sick and wanted to borrow the rosary my mother had left me to pray for her health. Without hesitation, I answered 1.

He wanted to postpone our wedding anniversary so he could celebrate Emily’s birthday first. I answered 1.

Even when he brought the pregnant Emily home, I still answered 1, and calmly packed my things and gave up our master bedroom.

That changed when I took our wedding photo off the wall.

David’s eyes turned red as he grabbed my wrist. "Sarah, you said you'd never take down our wedding photo unless we got divorced. Are you trying to divorce me now?"

When I was about to answer 1, he completely broke down. "Sarah, don't you dare say 1. There's nothing wrong with your vocal cords. You can talk. Say something!"

Then, as if afraid he'd frightened me, his voice softened. "Sarah, say 2, okay?"

I pulled my hand free and stared at him in confusion.

Had he forgotten? Back when he loved me more than anything, he had signed a prenuptial agreement.

He was allowed two chances to cheat after we married.

If he cheated a third time, our divorce agreement would automatically take effect.

That agreement had already taken effect a month ago.

*****

The wedding photo crashed to the floor with a loud bang.

Shards of glass splintered and scattered at David's and my feet.

I calmly picked up the broom and swept the broken frame and the photo into the trash, without a hint of hesitation or regret.

Seeing this, anger flashed in David's eyes.

He knew better than anyone how much I used to treasure that wedding photo.

But now, I threw it away like it was worthless.

He took Emily's hand. "Since you don't care about it, I'll take Emily to get our own wedding photos. From now on, our wedding photos will hang here instead."

I nodded calmly and replied, "1."

Emily couldn't hide the smug look in her eyes, but she still pretended to be all flustered.

She said, "David, isn't this a bit much? I'm already embarrassed about moving in while I'm pregnant and making Sarah take the guest room."

Before she finished speaking, I'd already booked a session at the same studio where we took our wedding photos.

I sent the confirmation text straight to David's phone.

David's eyes were dark and unreadable. He took Emily's hand and walked out without a word.

I didn't care.

I walked into the guest room, and a notification popped up on my phone. My flight booking was confirmed.

I pulled out my suitcase and started packing my things.

Then my phone chimed.

Emily had just posted on her social media, tagging me specifically.

It was a collage of nine wedding photos, identical to the post I made on my wedding day.

But there was one difference.

Smack dab in the middle was a GIF.

It showed the couple locked in a passionate embrace, kissing like they couldn't bear to part.

I gave it a like with a blank face and typed a word in the comments: [Congratulations.]

In the middle of the night, David kicked open my door.

He staggered toward me, reeking of alcohol. "Sarah, what do I have to do for you to forgive me?

"Why didn't you get mad that I took wedding photos with Emily? I waited for you all day, hoping you'd come and stop me.

"You never used to be like this. You'd get jealous."

I met his gaze with indifference, saying nothing.

But my mind was miles away.

I really was the jealous type.

The first time I caught him cheating, I marched right into his office and gave Emily a slap.

David's revenge was to accuse me of academic fraud.

I got kicked out of school and lost my job.

The second time, he and Emily were hooking up in our marital bed.

I was a lot calmer than before. I didn't cry or make a scene.

I simply sent the photos I took to the company group chat.

To back Emily up, David stopped my mom's special medication.

And the only way to get his forgiveness and save my mom was for me, a former law professor, to pose nude for a racy magazine.

After that, even the most basic law firms wouldn't consider me. They all rejected my resume without a second thought.

I lost all my sources of income, but I still had to pay for my mom's medical treatment.

Emily offhandedly complained that the company cafeteria food was terrible.

And just like that, I went from being a law professor standing at the front of the classroom to Emily's personal chef.

The hands that once held a pen were now blistered and burned.

Every day, my hands soaked in dishwater, turning pale, blisters bursting one after another.

Pus and blood oozed out, then scabs formed.

All to earn a week's medical bills from David for my mom.

It happened over and over Until the scars grew so thick, one had to tear through layers of scabs to see blood.

It was like my heart, scarred and battered.

David cupped my face, his voice shaky and uneven. "Sarah, I told her to delete that post.

"After she has the baby, I'll make sure she leaves.

"Can you please stop this?"

My fingers paused.

I opened my phone and saw that Emily's post was indeed gone.

Even the couple profile pic Emily had set with David had vanished. Her profile pic was gray now.

And David's profile picture was now a photo of me.

He set his cover photo to a picture of me.

His WhatsApp display name was: Only Love Sarah.

Even his bio now read: Forever with Sarah.

This was the kind of attention I'd pestered him for throughout our relationship, but never got.

But Emily managed to get all that after barely ten days of knowing him.

Now, I finally got everything I used to dream of.

But it felt like swallowing a mouthful of flies that had been buzzing over kitchen slop.

The sheer disgust made me want to gag.

David collapsed at my feet, completely wasted.

His phone slipped out of his pocket, and right then, a message from an unknown number popped up on the screen.

It read: [David, are we gonna have to use burner accounts to talk from now on?

[This is so exciting.

[I recently learned something even more thrilling. Want to meet our baby ahead of schedule?]

My right hand started to tremble uncontrollably.

I pressed my shaking hand to my chest, closed my eyes, and forced myself to regain my composure.

Thank God I wasn't that naive eighteen-year-old Sarah anymore.

I wasn't about to forgive this kind of childish crap so easily anymore.

When I was eighteen, all I wanted was for David to love me like I was the only girl in the world, make a big deal out of it, show me off, sweep me off my feet.

But at twenty-eight, all I wanted was to walk away from David for good and never look back.

David threw up and sobered up.

He reached out instinctively, expecting me to hand him a cup of coffee, then listen to me nag him.

On many late nights like this before, I'd always nag him, telling him not to drink so much.

But this time, his hand found nothing.

The familiar nagging was gone.

"Sarah, where's my coffee?" he asked.

He still hadn't gotten used to the fact that I couldn't speak anymore.

All he got in response was a cold, indifferent "2."

The air went quiet for a moment.

I could make coffee without saying a word.

But I didn't make it.

Seeing my completely indifferent face, David's expression darkened.

He slammed his fist into the wall.

He said, "Sarah, after your mom passed away, that's when I realized I messed up. The last time, it really was an accident.

"Her brother died saving me, and asked me to take care of her. What else could I do?

"I only slept with another woman. Why can't you understand me?"

In the dim light, I nodded and replied coldly, "1."

David rushed over and gripped my arms in a vice-like hold. "Sarah, say something. Yell at me!"

He pressed my hand against his face, as if daring me to slap him. "Hit me!"

I pulled my hand away, shook my head, and said, "2."

David let go of my hand, looking completely defeated.

Then, acting like nothing had happened, he held me close and softly patted my back. "Sarah, go to sleep. I'll stay with you tonight."

I didn't struggle.

It was pointless anyway.

Besides, he wouldn't be here for long.

Sure enough, not half an hour had passed before the butler knocked on the door. "Sir, Miss Foster says her stomach hurts."

David shot to his feet and rushed out without looking back.

Outside the door, chaos erupted.

I went into the bathroom and scrubbed myself clean all over again.

When I lay back down on the bed, David barged in, his eyes red and bloodshot.

He said, "Sarah, Emily's bleeding. Can you—"

Before he could finish, I replied with a "1."

David froze for a second, noticing the scent of soap on me. "You showered again?

"Is it really that disgusting to you when I touch you?"