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My Husband Moved His Mistress Into Our Home Novel Cover

My Husband Moved His Mistress Into Our Home

The morning sunlight streamed through the kitchen window as I arranged fresh berries on a plate. Six years of silence had taught me to navigate the world through touch and sight. My fingers danced across the countertop, feeling the vibrations of appliances, the cool surface of the marble, the soft texture of fruit. I hummed silently to myself—a habit from before the explosion that had stolen my hearing. I reached for a glass, intending to pour orange juice for Teo before he woke up. My fingers closed around it, but something slipped. The glass tumbled from my grasp, time seeming to slow as it fell toward the floor. Then I heard it. The sharp, crystalline crash of glass shattering on tile. I froze, my breath catching in my throat.
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Chapter 1

The morning sunlight streamed through the kitchen window as I arranged fresh berries on a plate. Six years of silence had taught me to navigate the world through touch and sight. My fingers danced across the countertop, feeling the vibrations of appliances, the cool surface of the marble, the soft texture of fruit. I hummed silently to myself—a habit from before the explosion that had stolen my hearing.

I reached for a glass, intending to pour orange juice for Teo before he woke up. My fingers closed around it, but something slipped. The glass tumbled from my grasp, time seeming to slow as it fell toward the floor.

Then I heard it.

The sharp, crystalline crash of glass shattering on tile.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. The sound was so clear, so distinct—like ice breaking on a frozen lake. My heart hammered against my ribs as I looked down at the scattered shards.

"I heard that," I whispered, my voice rusty from disuse. "I actually heard that."

Trembling, I picked up another glass and tapped it gently against the counter. The delicate ring resonated through my ears. Tears sprang to my eyes as I realized what was happening—my hearing was back. After six long years, I could hear again.

Without thinking, I moved toward Kingsley's study, eager to share this miracle with my husband. The floorboards creaked beneath my feet—a sound I hadn't heard since before the explosion that had claimed my hearing while saving our lives.

As I approached his partially open door, I heard his voice. Not the muffled vibration I'd grown accustomed to reading from his lips, but his actual voice.

"—don't know how much longer I can keep this up," Kingsley was saying, his tone hushed but clear. "I'm suffocating in this marriage to my deaf wife."

I stopped cold, my hand suspended in mid-air.

"Kiana understands me in ways Lorelai never could," he continued. "She gets me, you know? We have this connection that goes beyond words."

My stomach twisted into knots. Kiana—his first love, the violinist who'd abandoned him years ago for a career in Berlin.

"I'll figure something out," Kingsley promised whoever was on the other end. "I just need time."

I backed away silently, my miracle suddenly feeling like a curse.

---

That evening, Kingsley clinked his glass with a spoon, calling for our attention. Teo looked up from his tablet, his young face illuminated by the screen's glow.

"I have an announcement," Kingsley said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "We're going to take a weekend trip to the mountain cabin in the Cascades. Just the three of us—a little family getaway."

I nodded, signing my approval while hiding my knowledge of his betrayal. Inside, I was reeling. What was he planning? Was this trip somehow connected to Kiana?

"The drive will be beautiful this time of year," he continued, though his eyes kept darting to his phone as it buzzed with incoming messages.

I watched him carefully now, seeing what I'd missed before. The way his shoulders tensed when his phone vibrated. How he angled the screen away from me when texting. The nervous energy radiating from him.

"Pack warm clothes," he instructed Teo. "And your favorite games."

While Kingsley helped Teo pack the car the next morning, I stood nearby, pretending to arrange picnic supplies in the backseat.

"Is Kiana really back in Seattle?" Teo whispered to his father, unaware that I could hear every word.

Kingsley's face lit up with barely contained excitement. "Yes, buddy. And she's going to be performing at the symphony next month."

"Cool! Can we go?" Teo asked.

"Of course," Kingsley replied, ruffling his son's hair. "It'll be our special outing."

I turned away, busying myself with the luggage. So that's what this trip was about—creating an alibi while reconnecting with Kiana.

---

The mountain cabin was bathed in golden light as we sat down to dinner. Kingsley had prepared his specialty—herb-crusted salmon with roasted vegetables. The meal was delicious, but I barely tasted it.

"Are we going to the symphony next month?" Teo asked, bouncing in his seat with excitement.

Kingsley nodded eagerly. "I've already got tickets. Three seats in the front row."

I set down my fork and gestured, asking if I could join them.

Teo rolled his eyes dramatically. "Mom can't appreciate music anyway," he said aloud, not bothering to sign for me. "What's the point of bringing her?"

I waited for Kingsley to correct him, to explain that music was about more than sound, that I could still feel the vibrations, still appreciate the artistry.

Instead, Kingsley nodded in agreement. "Maybe next time, Lorelai," he said, not meeting my eyes.

I sat there, invisible in my own family, as they continued planning their outing—one that clearly didn't include me.

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