His Whispers in Another Tongue

On our sixth wedding anniversary, I hid the medical report from my recent miscarriage inside a Tiffany box and placed it on the nightstand. I had planned to share my silent grief with my husband, Judson Hawthorne.

However, just as he leaned in to reach for it, his best friend, Caleb Reed, called, and they slipped into French.

Caleb’s voice crackled teasingly over the phone, "Hey, Judson, how's that new custom superyacht?"

Judson chuckled, replying in French as he casually pushed the unopened box aside. "The hot tub is fantastic."

He held me in his arms, his chin resting on my shoulder, but his gaze seemed to pass right through me, as if fixed on someone else far away.

"This stays between us. If Camila finds out I celebrated on it with her sister, Rebecca, I'm done for."

A knife plunged into my chest. They must have forgotten, or simply didn't care, that I had minored in French at Brown University. I heard every last word.

I forced myself to stay calm, but my arms, wrapped around his neck, began to tremble. In that moment, I made my decision.

I would accept the invitation to the confidential biological research project in Canada.

In three days, I would disappear from Judson's world forever.

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1

Judson Hawthorne noticed my arms slipping from his neck and leaned in to press a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose.

"Darling, what are you thinking about? Getting tired of this face already?"

He gazed at me with his usual tenderness, a look I now found utterly absurd.

Just minutes ago, he was on the phone with his best friend, recounting the details of his tryst with my sister, Rebecca Ross, in French. Now, he had seamlessly switched back to the role of the perfect, faithful husband.

How long had he been playing this part? I didn't dare to dwell on it.

I buried my face in the crook of his neck, using the movement to hide the bitter twist of my lips. "Nothing. I was just spacing out, wondering what you two were talking about."

Judson gave me a fond smile. "Just business with Caleb. You know, boring stuff."

He must have had too much fun with Rebecca to remember that I understood French.

The air around me seemed to freeze.

I pushed him away. "You two go on," I said, my voice unnaturally calm. "I'm thirsty. I'm going to get a drink."

Before Judson could say anything, I padded downstairs barefoot.

As I passed the living room, I overheard the maids whispering.

"The necklace Mr. Hawthorne bought from Sotheby's just arrived. I heard it's worth millions."

"The storage room is overflowing with gifts. Mrs. Hawthorne hasn't even finished unwrapping last year's Christmas presents. He's so good to her."

Before, these words would have made me feel like the luckiest woman in the world, convinced I had married the best man alive.

Now, the sight of these expensive gifts sickened me. No one knew the depravity hidden behind the perfect facade of the man they all praised.

Yesterday, I had clicked on Rebecca's private Instagram story and seen Judson's one-of-a-kind Patek Philippe watch on her wrist. The back of that watch was engraved with our wedding anniversary, and he had once sworn he would never take it off.

In that moment, I knew my marriage was a sham.

My phone vibrated in my robe pocket, interrupting my thoughts. It was my advisor, Professor Alistair Finch.

"Camila, I saw you signed the confidentiality agreement," he said. "After giving up that postdoctoral opportunity at MIT for Judson, even quitting academia entirely... I'm just so glad you're finally coming back. We'll have someone pick you up in three days. You should take that time to say goodbye to your family. This could be a long-term, isolated project."

My family?

My fingers tightened around the phone until my knuckles turned white.

Six years ago, my parents died in a sailing accident in Puget Sound. For six years, Judson and Rebecca were the only family I had left. Now, after their joint betrayal, I had no one.

I took a deep breath, my voice barely a whisper. "Professor Finch, that won't be necessary. I need you to apply for the highest-level security protocol and erase all records of my identity."

Alistair's voice sharpened with shock. "Why? Once the records are wiped, the person 'Camila Ross' will cease to exist. All your credit history, medical files, even your social security number will be frozen. If Judson can't find you, he'll turn Seattle upside down."

"He won't," I let out a bitter laugh. "He's too busy starting his 'new family'."

My eyes began to burn.

Since leaving the lab, I had done nothing but play the part of "Mrs. Hawthorne." I had erased myself for him, only to be rewarded with the ultimate betrayal.

There was a long silence on the other end of the line before Alistair finally sighed.

"I knew something was wrong when you suddenly accepted the invitation. But I respect your choice. I'll make sure your protocol application is approved. You only have three days to get your affairs in order."

I closed my eyes, a sense of relief washing over me for the first time in years. With that protocol, "Mrs. Hawthorne" would simply cease to exist.

"Thank you, Professor Finch."

Just as the words left my lips, a voice I knew all too well spoke from behind me, making me jump.

"Darling, who were you on the phone with? Who betrayed whom?"