I Can't Hear You

James and I had known each other for eight years and had been in love for six.

The love I once took pride in had now dealt me a devastating blow.

Eight years ago, in my first year of university, I fell for James at first sight.

We quickly got together. Though our friends were skeptical at first, we eventually became the couple everyone envied.

Back then, I often invited Claudia to join us for meals. She would always say we were a match made in heaven.

After James graduated, he became a lawyer.

One day, a client from one of his cases caused a scene at his law firm. I happened to visit him at that very moment. The client was in a frenzy, waving around a gas canister.

When the explosion happened, I rushed in and pulled James away. He was saved, but I lost my hearing forever.

Because of this, I had to give up my dream of becoming a simultaneous interpreter.

James held me in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably as he gasped between tears, "Marry me, Layla. Let me take care of you for the rest of your life. Please."

My parents strongly disapproved of James—not just because of what happened to my hearing, but also because his family background was nowhere near ours.

So, James knelt outside my house through a heavy snowfall. The night was bone-chilling, even with the heater on indoors.

Yet, he remained motionless, his back straight as a board.

I knelt before my parents, crying and begging them. "Mom, Dad, James is truly a wonderful man. One day, he'll be successful—I know he will."

My parents couldn't bear to see me heartbroken. Moved by James' sincerity, they finally relented—on one condition: a five-year probation period.

Despite the harsh terms, James agreed without hesitation. "Mr. and Mrs. Becker, please rest assured. Not just for five years, but for a lifetime—I will take care of Layla."

And for those five years, he kept his word.

When I had trouble sleeping, he would make me a warm cup of milk every night without fail.

Every morning, he personally prepared breakfast for me.

And I never once had to peel my own fruit.

No matter how busy he was at the law firm, James always checked in and came home on time.

…

I used to thank God countless times for bringing James into my life.

Yet, as I stared at the car shaking downstairs, I finally came to my senses.

It was time to wake up.

Tears streamed down my face, and pain consumed my heart.

I didn't know how much time had passed when James finally texted me:

"Honey, something came up at the firm. I'll be home late tonight. Don't wait up."

Still reeling from what I had witnessed, I changed my clothes, called a cab, and followed them.

Along the way, I wiped my tears dry, only for them to fall again.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine where James would take Claudia.

He took her to my villa; the one my parents had bought for me.

James had once told me he didn't want to rely on my family for anything, so he had bought the house we were living in now instead.

"Don't worry, Layla," he had said. "I'll prove to your parents that I can take care of you on my own."

I had been so moved by his words that I gave him the villa's access card.

"I believe in you, James. Here, take this. If you ever change your mind, we can move in together."

He had refused at first, only accepting it when I feigned anger.

Now, I watched as James got out of the car and carried Claudia in his arms, walking toward the villa.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm as I pulled out my phone and took a picture—evidence of their betrayal.

The female cab driver sighed.

"Men—they just can't stay loyal. Just turn a blind eye, lady. It's pass."

I lowered my gaze, silent.

Why should I be the one to tolerate this?

I unlocked my phone and booked an appointment for an abortion the next day.