Scars and Lies

Five years passed and my hearing was finally restored. The first thing I wanted to do was share the news with Dillon. He had been my constant support, my partner and my reason to believe in love again.

But just as I was about to tell him, I overheard a conversation between him and his closest friend.

"Even now, I still love Alyssa," Dillon admitted, his voice laced with regret. "I'm thinking of giving her my company, Knight Holdings."

His friend chuckled, clearly amused. "If your Honey finds out you only married her to keep her away from Gabriel and to protect Alyssa's happiness, she'll be devastated."

Dillon's response chilled me to my core. "Oh, I'm not worried. She's deaf. She can't hear what we're saying."

I froze. My world, already fragile, shattered in an instant. My eyes burned with unshed tears and my hands trembled as I clenched them into fists.

So, these five years of love, care and kindness—everything—had all been a lie? A carefully woven facade to ensure Alyssa's happiness at my expense?

What was the point of staying in a life built on betrayal? There was none. I might as well disappear from his world forever.

***

As soon as the doctor confirmed that my hearing had fully recovered, I could hardly contain my excitement. My heart raced as I imagined hearing Dillon's voice—not the faint vibrations I had grown used to over the years. The thought alone was enough to quicken my pace as I rushed home, my breath coming in short, eager bursts.

The winter air was sharp and biting as the driver opened the car door for me. Snowflakes drifted lazily from a gray sky, dusting the garden path that led to the front door. My cheeks stung from the cold, but I barely noticed. All I could think about was the joy of sharing this miracle with the man I loved.

But as I approached the front door, the muffled sound of voices stopped me in my tracks. I hesitated, my hand hovering over the doorknob. It wasn't unusual for Dillon to have guests, but something about the tone made me pause. I strained to listen, the unfamiliar clarity of sound both thrilling and unnerving.

"I thought after five years, I could move on," a deep male voice said. "But it turns out, I still love Alyssa."

My breath hitched and I froze, my pulse pounding in my ears.

"You know," the voice continued, "I've been thinking of giving her Knight Holdings so she doesn't have to worry about money for the rest of her life."

I peeked through the narrow gap between the door and its frame. Dillon sat casually on the plush gray couch in the living room, his posture relaxed yet deliberate. Opposite him was Remy, his closest friend, who leaned back in his chair with an incredulous look. My stomach churned as I realized the voice had come from Dillon himself.

Remy frowned, his expression a mixture of concern and disbelief. "If you give away Knight Holdings, you'll just be an ordinary man. What about your Honey? She's the eldest daughter of the Cole family—are you planning to make her live in hardship?"

Dillon leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his face calm but resolute. "Back then, Alyssa didn't choose me, so I couldn't take care of her as her husband. But I can still show her that I've always loved her, that I've never abandoned her. Giving her Knight Holdings is the least I can do."

"And your Honey?" Remy asked, exasperated. "What about Mia?"

Dillon's lips curved into a faint, dismissive smile. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to her. She told me she loves me and that she's willing to endure hardships with me. Her standard of living might drop slightly, but it's not as if we'll be poor. She won't complain."

I felt the words like physical blows, each one slicing through my chest with cruel precision. My legs felt like they might give out beneath me, but I clung to the doorframe for support. The weight of betrayal pressed down on me, cold and unrelenting, like the snow accumulating around my feet.

Remy sighed, rubbing his temple. "You've completely lost your mind over Alyssa. If your Honey finds out that you married her not out of love, but to keep her away from Gabriel and Alyssa, she'll be heartbroken."

His words left me numb. The truth I had unknowingly lived beside for five years was more devastating than I could have imagined. My fingers gripped the edge of the door so tightly that my knuckles turned white.

Remy's voice faltered as he glanced toward the doorway and saw me standing there. His eyes widened in alarm and his words came out in a panicked stammer. "M-Mia, you're back?"

Dillon turned his head sharply, his gaze locking onto mine. For a moment, there was tension in his eyes—an instinctive flicker of guilt, quickly masked by a calm, almost indifferent expression.

"What are you so flustered about?" he said coolly. "She's deaf. Even if you shouted into her ears, she wouldn't hear a word."

His words twisted the knife already buried in my heart. Remy relaxed visibly, even chuckling nervously as he stood and offered me a small bow before signing a polite greeting.

Dillon rose from the couch and approached me, his steps measured, his expression warm and familiar. He reached for a shawl draped over a nearby chair and gently wrapped it around my shoulders. His fingers brushed against my skin, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine—not from the cold, but from the growing chasm between us.

He signed to me with a concerned look, "Honey, why did you go out in such cold weather wearing so little? You'll catch a cold."

At first, I had admired his effort to learn sign language, remembering the long hours he had spent with a tutor after we married. I thought he had done it out of love, a gesture to bridge the gap my disability had created. But now, every gesture, every kind word, felt like part of an elaborate performance, carefully crafted to hide the truth.