The Revenge of the Mute Wife by Melanie Paulson novel Chapter 2

"So, you recorded them having sex?" a female voice asked over the phone.

The other person tapped back a response in Morse code: [Yes, she didn't hang up.]

"Excellent... well, you know the plan."

[Don't worry, I understand.]

"When I bring your cake and gift tomorrow, give me those recordings so I can hand them to my husband for him to help you file for the divorce."

[Thank you.]

"You don't need to thank me. Rest well." the person said before ending the call.

The woman who communicated in Morse code sighed, feeling her eyes sting with impending tears. Remembering how her husband professed love to his mistress was painful.

She walked slowly to her room and paused at the large mirror in the hallway. The reflection showed a beautiful woman with slightly wavy brown hair, though her eyes were swollen from sadness. The blue of her eyes was unique, her figure slender—perhaps not as voluptuous as Sophia's, but well-proportioned.

The blue-eyed woman was undeniably attractive, if not for the cruel disability caused by a childhood accident that left her mute. She communicated through sign language and Morse code, something Roger hated because he had to learn them just to talk with her.

Placing her hand on the mirror, she pondered if what she was about to do was right. But she could no longer live as a shadow in that house.

Apart from her childhood friend, her friend's husband, and the neighbor, no one cared for her: her father never loved her, her stepmother and step-siblings abused her, her husband openly betrayed her, and her mother-in-law humiliated her whenever possible. Without the three who supported her, she would be isolated in that big place called ‘home.’

The place was a modern, luxurious apartment, equipped with the best and most expensive decorations. They were supposed to live in a mansion, but Roger refused to buy one, insisting he would only buy one to live with the woman he loved.

The woman turned around and headed to the kitchen to store the dinner she had prepared for Roger. She knew that when he spent the night with Sophia, he wouldn't return until 7 AM. And even then, he just came back to shower, change, and have breakfast before heading straight to the office.

After cleaning the dirty dishes and tidying up the kitchen, she went to Roger's room to lay out clean clothes on his bed for the next morning. Then she went to her room to sleep—they slept in separate bedrooms.

The next morning, she was awakened by the sound of running water, an indication that Roger had returned and was taking a shower. She got up to prepare his breakfast, quickly setting it on the table before sitting to wait for him.

Her wait was short. Five minutes later, Roger appeared—showered and dressed—and sat down to eat without greeting her.

She signed her greeting: [Good morning.] But Roger ignored her, his attention focused on his phone. He was probably texting Sophia judging by the foolish smile on his face.

The woman sighed and began eating with her gaze lowered.

When Roger finished, he stood to leave, but his supposed wife stood as well and approached him.

"What do you want, Deborah?" he asked, frowning as she reached out to touch him. When he realized that she was only adjusting his tie, he sighed.

[Have a good day.]

"I always do," he retorted sarcastically, bumping into her shoulder as he walked past her. Deborah fell but he didn't care. He continued on his way without looking back.

Deborah endured the pain of the fall and stood up, quickly drying the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. She focused on a specific spot on the wall in front of her.

Carefully, she approached that spot and removed a hidden mini-camera from behind an ornament. Deborah had been gradually gathering evidence to support her demand for a divorce.

Yes, she had reached her limit. She couldn't endure more humiliation. Deborah simply couldn’t understand: why did everyone hate her? Just because she couldn't speak?

It wasn’t fair, and it hurt especially the most today because her husband ignored her birthday. The most she hoped for was at least a birthday greeting.