His Fake Sacrifice, My Broken Voice

Start Reading

In the seventh year of my marriage to Ethan, he spared no effort searching the entire country for renowned doctors to cure my muteness and hearing loss.

The last time, he found an extremely toxic folk remedy and drank it himself to test it for me.

After the poison took effect, he was in emergency care for three days and three nights, and permanently lost his ability to have children.

Lying in bed with tubes covering his body, he still comforted me gently.

"As long as you can speak again, losing anything is worth it."

"Besides, we already have one child. I'm content."

I knelt by his hospital bed crying, thinking I had found true love.

But later,

Wearing a cleaning uniform, I stood at the hotel front desk and personally checked Ethan and his mistress into a king-sized room.

They even asked me to deliver five boxes of condoms to them.

This time, I made up my mind to say those words myself.

"Let's get divorced."

"A king room, please. Thank you."

The woman wore flaming red lipstick, her cleavage on full display.

She turned her head and shot a flirtatious smile at the man sitting on the lobby sofa.

I followed her gaze to see a man bundled up tightly.

The wedding ring on his finger was identical to Ethan's.

My heart skipped a beat as the woman handed over her ID.

When I saw Ethan's name clearly, my heartbeat faltered, I forgot to breathe, and my whole body trembled with numbness.

My phone vibrated. It was a message from Ethan:

"Clara, I'm looking for a doctor for you. I'll be back late, don't wait up."

In disbelief, I dialed his number with shaking hands.

I watched as Ethan glanced over quickly, then immediately hung up.

He stuffed his phone back in his pocket, pulled the woman closer, and headed to the room.

His eyes held a tenderness I had never seen before.

My chest felt filled with shattered glass. Even breathing became agonizing.

"Are you blind?! What are you standing there for!"

My colleague Sarah from the front desk had returned.

She'd had a stomachache earlier and asked me to cover for her temporarily.

"What are you staring at, you mute? Go clean your toilets!"

She glared at me, then turned to answer the internal phone, her tone fawning as she nodded repeatedly.

"Yes, Mr. Lancaster, five boxes of ultra-thin condoms, correct?"

"No problem, please wait. I'll send them right up!"

My mind exploded. I furrowed my brows and made a gesture.

Five?

Sarah rolled her eyes, her tone mocking.

"Look at you, so poor and sheltered. That was Mr. Lancaster on the phone!"

"During Christmas, he booked the presidential suite for an entire month straight."

"That's more than you could earn cleaning toilets for a lifetime--not even one day's room rate."

She leaned in close, lowering her voice mysteriously.

"That month, we had to change the sheets five or six times every night. The last cleaner got worked to death and quit."

My eardrums buzzed. I recalled that Christmas, when Ethan went to remote areas to find doctors for me and never returned.

Our daughter Lily had a high fever in the middle of the night. I couldn't get a cab and carried her to the hospital in the pouring rain.

By the time we arrived, she had developed acute pneumonia.

The doctor thrust a critical condition notice at me for signature, reproaching me.

"If you can't speak, how can we communicate about her condition?"

I knelt on the floor, my hands shaking like a sieve, unable to write a single word.

Every second I blamed myself madly, hating that I had burdened my daughter.

A month later, Ethan finally came back.

As soon as he walked in, he held me tight, his eyes red as he apologized.

"I'm sorry, Clara. There was an avalanche in the mountains. I was trapped for a month..."

I buried myself in his shoulder, not doubting him at all, only feeling that I had burdened him.

I felt desperate and heartbroken, finding it all absurd.

So this wasn't his first time lying to me.

It was just my first time discovering it.

I threw down my mop and immediately rushed home to pack my bags.

My daughter was beside me, constantly repeating "Daddy."

Lily was six years old and suffered from severe autism.

My phone vibrated. A call from the rehabilitation center teacher.

"Hello, Lily's mom. There's a parent meeting tomorrow at 2 PM to discuss Lily's follow-up treatment plan. Will you be available?"

I opened my mouth, making unclear sounds.

Silence fell on the other end.

"Hello? Lily's mom, can you hear me?"

I tapped the screen hard, trying to respond.

"Um... maybe the signal's bad. I'll just call Lily's dad directly. Last time he signed off on the treatment plan too, and he comes to the weekly training sessions. You don't need to worry."

The teacher hung up.

I stood there stunned, suddenly realizing that all of Lily's rehabilitation training had been handled by Ethan.

Because I couldn't even manage basic social interaction.

I could endure the suffering of being unable to speak, but Lily needed a father who could.

Tears as big as beans fell to the floor.

I suppressed my anger and put the luggage back.

Ethan had just come home.

As soon as he walked in, he picked up Lily, then went to the kitchen to prepare medicine for me.

Ethan brought the brewed medicine to me, blowing on it repeatedly.

"This prescription is very effective. Drink it for three months, and you'll be able to speak."

He smiled and brushed my hair aside. I instinctively dodged.

A flash of alertness crossed the man's eyes, but his tone immediately softened.

"When you can speak again, the first thing you say should be 'Clara,' okay?"

I didn't move, disgusted to the point of numbness.

That night, Ethan held me and slept soundly.

While I stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep all night.

I thought back to eight years ago, when Ethan first took me to see a specialist. The consultation fee was $800.

He had just graduated then, with a salary of only $3,000.

His hands were shaking as he paid, but he told the doctor to treat me no matter the cost.

The day Lily was diagnosed with autism, I crouched on the ground crying silently.

He swore to me,

"Clara, don't be afraid. Lily has me, and you have me too. No matter what illness it is, I'll be with you both through the treatment."

From then on, he became the model father praised by all the teachers at the rehabilitation center.

I closed my eyes, replaying it all over and over, tears soaking through the pillow, feeling both unwilling and resentful.

The next day, while I was cleaning a guest room, I received a complaint from a guest saying the hallway was too noisy, with a child crying constantly.

A bad feeling came over me.

I rushed toward the end of the corridor.

It was Lily.

She was collapsed outside a door, her little face covered with tears and snot.

Screaming "Daddy" hoarsely, repeating it over and over, her clenched little fists red and purple from pounding on the door.

I felt struck by lightning. I rushed forward and pulled my daughter tightly into my arms.

A note lay scattered on the floor:

"Lily, be good. Daddy will come out soon."

When I saw the familiar handwriting, I instantly flew into a rage, wanting to rush in and skin him alive.

Intense splashing sounds came from inside the room.

A woman's delicate moans and gasps continued.

"Ah... gentle, the child is still outside."

"Who cares about that little idiot? What does she understand? Be good, lift your legs higher..."

A bone-chilling cold shot to the top of my head. I was shocked to the point of numbness.

Inside the door was endless pleasure.

Outside the door were a desperate, suffering mother and daughter.

I didn't pound on the door.

A mute's protest would only be a laughingstock to add to their pleasure.

I instinctively picked up Lily and ran home.

And sent Ethan a message:

"Come home immediately."

When the man came home, he smelled of body wash.

Sweating profusely, he picked up Lily and shouted anxiously,

"Lily, how did you run home by yourself?!"

He was still performing enthusiastically.

I reached out and handed him the divorce papers.

Ethan's expression showed great shock. He looked up sharply.

"Divorce?!"

He pressed me into his arms, his voice trembling with urgency.

"Clara, do you think you're burdening me again? I've told you so many times, no matter what, I will never abandon you and Lily!"

His words sounded righteous but were utterly ironic.

I pushed him away forcefully and slapped him across the face.

Ethan looked completely incredulous.

After a moment of silence, he stared at the compensation amount on the divorce agreement, then pulled out his phone.

0-0.88 million, transferred instantly.

He grabbed my wrist tightly, his eyes reddening.

"Money--I'll give you however much you want. But we absolutely cannot divorce."

His phone screen lit up. Ethan frowned and hung up directly.

"Something at the company. I'll go handle it. You calm down."

Then he left without looking back.

I picked up my phone, edited a text, and sent it to Marcus.

"I've saved enough money. I want to buy that special medicine that can make me speak again."

He replied instantly: "The special medicine needs to be shipped from abroad. Half a month at the fastest. I'll coordinate it for you."

Marcus, my childhood friend.

He was an otolaryngologist at the hospital.

Two years ago he told me that a new biological drug from abroad had a 90% cure rate for my type of hearing loss and muteness.

Two million dollars per treatment course.

He said he would pay for it.

I flatly refused and didn't tell Ethan either.

Not because I didn't want treatment, but because I was afraid of crushing this family.

Now it seemed my worry was too unnecessary. This family had long since fallen apart.

During the days waiting for the medicine, Ethan was considerate to the extreme.

He would get up at dawn and wait in line for three hours to buy me the little cakes I loved.

He would insist on taking Lily to the rehabilitation center and patiently teach her to call me Mommy.

He would blow on the medicine until it was warm and feed it to me spoonful by spoonful.

I had seen what it looked like when he loved me, so I understood he was trying his best to perform love.

The medicine became increasingly bitter.

On a whim, I sent the medicine to Marcus for analysis.

When I learned the test results, Marcus panicked and asked anxiously,

"Long-term use of this medicine will severely damage the auditory nerves and worsen hearing loss and muteness. How long have you been drinking it?"

Five years.

I had drunk it for five whole years, not missing a single day.

Everything before me became blurred.

I was wrapped in bone-chilling cold, my clothes soaked with cold sweat.

The tenderness of my former bedmate had actually been pushing me into an irredeemable abyss.

I pulled myself together and persisted with treatment under Marcus's professional rehabilitation.

Ethan knew nothing about all this.

I began practicing making sounds. My throat vibrated, producing weak and unclear sounds.

"Li...ly."

When my daughter heard me speak for the first time, she threw herself tightly into my arms.

"Mommy!"

I wrapped my daughter in my embrace, tears pouring out.

I could finally speak up for myself and my daughter.

The next day, while I was doing rehabilitation exercises at home with Lily, Ethan's mistress came straight to the door.

"Hello, I'm Vivian."

After speaking, she walked right past me into the living room.

Vivian looked around, her face full of disdain, and spoke arrogantly.

"There are some things that Ethan is too soft-hearted to say to you. As his future wife, I have no choice but to take the trouble to say them myself."

The woman took out a voice recorder and pressed play.

Ethan's contemptuous, arrogant voice came through.

"She will never be able to speak again in this lifetime."

"I watch her gesture in sign language every day, like a monkey. It's really laughable."

"She's actually secretly working to save money for treatment, exhausting herself like a dog every day, and still can't earn a fraction of what I make. She might as well be reborn as a dog--at least then she could bark a few times."

I clenched my fists. My whole body trembled.

A surge of anger shot straight to my head.

Vivian stepped closer in her high heels, looking down at me condescendingly.

"Did you hear that, mute? You really think he's been searching the world for medicine for you? Dream on! When he was supposedly looking for medicine, he was in bed serving me!"

Her eyes rolled, and she smiled even more arrogantly.

"Oh, right, there's good news too. I'm pregnant, with Ethan's baby."

Vivian saw my stunned expression and became even more triumphant.

"You don't really believe his manhood is broken, do you?"

The woman leaned close to my ear, enunciating each word.

"He lied to you because he finds you disgusting and hates that you gave birth to a waste of space. When he's with me, eight times a night isn't enough. More intense than you could ever imagine!"

After speaking, Vivian yanked my daughter out from behind me.

Her tone was vicious to the extreme, as she said through gritted teeth,

"Lily, do you know why your daddy doesn't want you? Because you're a burden! Your daddy said once my baby is born, he'll send you to an orphanage! You know what an orphanage is? It's where kids with no parents go. That's where you'll live from now on!"

Fortunately, Lily didn't understand.

But she still sensed the malice and began hitting herself on the head with her fists, screaming in pain.

"Don't touch my daughter!!"

I rushed forward and blocked Lily.

Then I grabbed Vivian by the throat and pressed her face against the wall.

"What are you doing! Let go of me!"

The woman screamed desperately, her manicured nails scratching several bloody marks on my face.

But I felt no pain at all.

I grabbed her hair tightly and shoved her away hard.

"Get out!"

Vivian, wearing four-inch heels, couldn't steady herself, and tumbled down the stairs, her face smashed and bloody.

"Ahh--help!"

She clutched her stomach, curled up in agony.

The next second, Ethan rushed out from the stairwell.

When he saw Vivian lying on the ground, his eyes instantly became violent and fierce.

"What did you do?!"

The man looked up and questioned me harshly.

I clenched my fists, not having time to speak.

He pointed at me and cursed.

"Don't you know she's pregnant?! If anything happens to Vivian, I will never forgive you!"

After speaking, Ethan picked up the woman and left, his departing back resolute.

He didn't glance once at our daughter, still trembling in the corner.

Nor did he ask why my face was covered in bloody scratches.

That night, Ethan didn't come home.

The next morning, he returned.

The man's hair was disheveled, his eye sockets sunken, his face pale, as if he'd kept vigil at the hospital all night.

He slowly walked up to me and suddenly dropped to his knees.

"Clara, I'm sorry. I was too impulsive yesterday. I shouldn't have yelled at you."

Ethan covered his face in repentance, his voice heavy with sobs.

"I'll be honest with you. Vivian and I do have some relationship, but it's not what you think. She was my college classmate.

Her family had a crisis, and I helped her. Later she kept clinging to me, and one time when I was drunk, things happened..."

The man grabbed my hand and placed it on his chest.

He said with apparent sincerity,

"But the person I've loved from beginning to end has always been you!"

The man's tone was earnest, yet nauseating.

"The doctor said Vivian's body is very weak. It's a miracle she could get pregnant. So I want to discuss with you--let her give birth to the baby safely.

Then Vivian will disappear completely, and you can be the child's mother. From now on, the four of us will live well together."

Seeing my silence, he put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his embrace.

Whispering tenderly,

"Clara, as long as you agree, I'll listen to you in everything from now on. I won't let you suffer any grievance."

I took a sharp breath and pushed Ethan away forcefully.

He staggered back, looking at me in great surprise.

My eyes were sharp. My lips moved. My throat forced out a few words.

It was my first utterance in seven years.

"Let's... get divorced."

Ethan was clearly stunned. His pupils dilated suddenly, his face full of disbelief.

"You... you can speak?!"