The Womanizer's Mute Wife

GENESIS

The pen slipped in my sweaty hand as I signed the paper.

That was it. I was married to a man who hadn’t even looked at me twice.

Kier Blackwood stood beside me like he was waiting for a meeting to end. He was late, distant, and clearly disgusted to be here. When his eyes did meet mine, it wasn’t hate I saw. It was something colder, disappointment. Like he’d ordered gold and got dust instead.

The judge’s words blurred. I just stared at the rings, the papers, my trembling hands. Everything inside me screamed that this wasn’t real.

But it was.

I caught sight of Monica standing at the back of the courtroom, her lips twisted in fury. Jimmy and Mark beside her, arms folded, watching like they were witnessing my punishment.

Her words from last night flashed through my head her voice sharp as broken glass:

“How dare he think he can waltz back into your life?”

The slap. The flying vase. The sting still burned on my cheek.

Now here I was, wearing a ring instead of a bruise. Bound to a man I didn’t even know.

Kier’s father, Donald, stood near the exit, his face unreadable. But for a second, I saw it, guilt. His eyes softened, like he knew he’d just ruined two lives.

Then Kier turned and walked out. No goodbye, no glance. Just gone.

Outside, I trailed behind him to a sleek black car. He opened the passenger door without a word. The gesture was polite, but cold, like a stranger holding a door out of habit.

I climbed in, my stomach twisting. The silence between us was a storm waiting to break.

His hand tightened on the steering wheel, jaw clenched. Then suddenly, he lifted a hand and I flinched, ducking fast, covering my head.

“Yo…what the hell? I’m not gonna touch you,” he said, voice sharp but shocked.

I froze, still half-curled in defense. My breath came out shaky.

“Breathe,” he said softer. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

I lowered my arm slowly, face burning. Shame prickled under my skin.

He sighed, tapping the wheel. “Look, I don’t know if this whole thing shocked you as much as it did me, but it’s not gonna last. We just… need to give my dad his heir, then we go our separate ways.”

I nodded too quickly, clutching my dress like a lifeline.

He frowned, muttering, “Getting that heir’s gonna be harder than I thought.”

The words hit harder than the slap last night. My chest tightened, and my eyes dropped to my thin hands, to the dull strands of hair in my lap.

If I were him, I wouldn’t want me either.

Maybe if I told him to turn off the lights… it’d be easier for both of us.