The Deaf Bride Isn't Deaf?

Violet set her fork down and rose from her seat. She didn't want to hear any more of these empty, well-practiced lies.

Seeing her about to leave, Grayson immediately stood as well, his hands forming quick, fluid gestures. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "I'm tired. I want to go home and rest."

Without waiting for his response, she turned and walked straight out of the private room.

Out on the street, she lifted her head and saw the massive electronic screen on the office building across from her. A video played on a loop. A familiar set of words glowed against the backdrop: Violet Hudson, Marry Me!

Pedestrians passing by stopped to look, their voices filled with admiration.

"My goodness, I heard Grayson Warhol's girlfriend is deaf, so when he proposed, he booked the tallest office building in the city and had 'Marry Me' displayed on the screen, just so she could see it clearly. And after she said yes, he kept the proposal video playing for an entire month so that the whole city could celebrate their love."

"He must love her so much. He'll definitely be a good husband."

Violet let out a breathless chuckle. It was the kind of laugh that never quite reached the eyes.

A week ago, she might have reacted just like those passersby. She had believed in Grayson's love without question, convinced he would be a devoted husband.

She had grown up in an orphanage. At nine years old, a high fever, left untreated for too long, had stolen her hearing. After that, she became an easy target—bullied, mocked, always set apart. The days blurred into years, and she built a wall around herself, shutting out everything beyond its reach.

And then Grayson appeared. He fell in love with her at first sight and started chasing after her with reckless determination. But she had seen these kinds of games before. She avoided him at every turn.

He confessed his love ninety-nine times. She rejected him ninety-nine times.

Then came the earthquake. Without hesitation, he shielded her with his own body, holding her close as debris rained down. A steel rod pierced through his shoulder blade, yet even in that moment, he never let go of her.

When he woke up in the hospital, still weak and pale, the first thing he did was lift his hands and sign, "As long as you're safe."

That was when she found out—he had spent three months learning sign language, just so he could communicate with her properly.

The wall around her heart cracked, just a little.

The scar from that injury never fully faded. A small, circular mark, dark brown against his skin, a permanent reminder of that day. Whenever she looked at it, her heart would tremble.

For five years, he had been unwavering in his love. He had made her believe in it. Even when his family opposed their relationship, even when the pressure mounted, he stood by her side and proposed.

She wanted to hear his voice say, "I do," at the wedding. She didn't want to put him in a difficult position, caught between his family and her. So she took a gamble, risked everything, and left for surgery overseas, knowing there was a chance she might never wake up.

Fate, it seemed, had been kind. The surgery was a success.

She had planned to surprise him at the wedding, keeping her restored hearing a secret until that moment. She had imagined it over and over—his astonishment, his joy when he discovered she could hear again.

But fate had a strange sense of humor.

The very day she returned, she overheard a phone call. Grayson was speaking in a low, intimate voice to his assistant. Flirting, laughing, weaving words meant for a lover.

That was when she learned the truth. He had been with his assistant for a year. An entire year. And she had known nothing.

The pain in her chest was unbearable. She crouched down on the pavement, arms wrapped tightly around herself, as if she could hold herself together.

Inside the private room, Grayson had said that even on the brink of marriage, he had no intention of ending that affair.

Was it because he thought she would never hear him? That he could keep lying to her forever?

The winter night's wind cut through her like a knife, clearing her thoughts. Her fingers curled into fists.

She would prove to Grayson that lies never lasted forever.

And she would never tolerate deception.