Mute No More: The Rise Of A Design Queen

Synopsis

"Sign it." The divorce papers hit the coffee table. The edge of the paper cut through the air with a nasty little snap. Dashiell Vance stood by the window, all sharp angles and shadows. He wouldn't even look at me. Next to him, Tamsin Booth perched on the arm of the couch, her nude-pink nails wrapped around a strawberry. She bit into it. Juice smeared her lips. "Sable, I'm so sorry," she said, all honey and sugar. "Dashiell and I, we're really in love. And you know, you can't exactly blame him, right?" She didn't say the rest, but it hung there anyway, louder than any words. What she didn't finish was, "You can't even talk. What makes you think you deserve to be Mrs. Vance?" I sat across from them, my fingers digging into my knees. Three years of this. I'd wiped down this couch more times than I could count and emptied that ashtray every single day. The white roses on the table? I just changed them yesterday. I'd put every ounce of myself into keeping this place together, and now silence was the reason they were throwing me out. Dashiell finally turned. He looked at me like I was a piece of old furniture he'd tripped over. "Sable. Three years. I'm done." His voice was flat. No heat. Just over it. "You can't even get a sentence out. What am I supposed to do with you? Take you somewhere and say, 'Hey everyone, this is my wife. She can't talk?'" Can't talk. Those two words out of his mouth hurt worse than the crash that crushed my throat three years ago. But I didn't cry. I'd learned something over the past three years. Crying didn't make a sound anyway. And my world? It had been quiet for a long, long time.