The Revenge of the Mute Wife by Melanie Paulson

"So, you recorded them having sex?" a female voice asked over the phone.

The other person tapped back a response in Morse code: [Yes, she didn't hang up.]

"Excellent... well, you know the plan."

[Don't worry, I understand.]

"When I bring your cake and gift tomorrow, give me those recordings so I can hand them to my husband for him to help you file for the divorce." [Thank you.]

"You don't need to thank me. Rest well." the person said before ending the call.

The woman who communicated in Morse code sighed, feeling her eyes sting with impending tears. Remembering how her husband professed love to his mistress was painful.

She walked slowly to her room and paused at the large mirror in the hallway. The reflection showed a beautiful woman with slightly wavy brown hair, though her eyes were swollen from sadness. The blue of her eyes was unique, her figure slender-perhaps not as voluptuous as Sophia's, but well-proportioned.

The blue-eyed woman was undeniably attractive, if not for the cruel disability caused by a childhood accident that left her mute. She communicated through sign language and Morse code, something Roger hated because he had to learn them just to talk with her. Placing her hand on the mirror, she pondered if what she was about to do was right. But she could no longer live as a shadow in that house.

Apart from her childhood friend, her friend's husband, and the neighbor, no one cared for her: her father never loved her, her stepmother and step-siblings abused her, her husband openly betrayed her, and her mother-in-law humiliated her whenever possible. Without the three who supported her, she would be isolated in that big place called 'home.'

The place was a modern, luxurious apartment, equipped with the best and most expensive decorations. They were supposed to live in a mansion, but Roger refused to buy one, insisting he would only buy one to live with the woman he loved.

The woman turned around and headed to the kitchen to store the dinner she had prepared for Roger. She knew that when he spent the night with Sophia, he wouldn't return until 7 AM. And even then, he just came back to shower, change, and have breakfast before heading straight to the office.

After cleaning the dirty dishes and tidying up the kitchen, she went to Roger's room to lay out clean clothes on his bed for the next morning. Then she went to her room to sleep-they slept in separate bedrooms.

The next morning, she was awakened by the sound of running water, an indication that Roger had returned and was taking a shower. She got up to prepare his breakfast, quickly setting it on the table before sitting to wait for him.

Her wait was short. Five minutes later, Roger appeared-showered and dressed-and sat down to eat without greeting her.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

She signed her greeting: [Good morning.] But Roger ignored her, his attention focused on his phone. He was probably texting Sophia judging by the foolish smile on his face.

The woman sighed and began eating with her gaze lowered.

When Roger finished, he stood to leave, but his supposed wife stood as well and approached him.

"What do you want, Deborah?" he asked, frowning as she reached out to touch him. When he realized that she was only adjusting his tie, he sighed.

[Have a good day.]

"I always do," he retorted sarcastically, bumping into her shoulder as he walked past her. Deborah fell but he didn't care. He continued on his way without looking back. Deborah endured the pain of the fall and stood up, quickly drying the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. She focused on a specific spot on the wall in front of her. Carefully, she approached that spot and removed a hidden mini-camera from behind an ornament. Deborah had been gradually gathering evidence to support her demand for a divorce. Yes, she had reached her limit. She couldn't endure more humiliation. Deborah simply couldn't understand: why did everyone hate her? Just because she couldn't speak?

It wasn't fair, and it hurt especially the most today because her husband ignored her birthday. The most she hoped for was at least a birthday greeting.

Feeling sad and a sudden bout of nausea, Deborah ran to the bathroom.

Lately, she had been feeling weak and dizzy, and often vomited after eating. She knew she should see a doctor, but she simply thought it was all due to the psychological stress she was under. Deborah lay on the sofa, trying to calm her nerves before getting to the household chores. But her rest was interrupted by the ring of the doorbell announcing a visitor.

Deborah stood up to see who it was, and her discomfort vanished when she saw it was her friend, whom she immediately let in.

[Hello, Carrie.] Deborah signed while smiling.

"Hi, Debbie. That jerk is gone, right?" said the black-haired woman, approaching to hug and kiss Deborah on the cheek. [Yes.]

"Good, because I didn't bring anything for him," Caroline said as she held up a paper bag.

Deborah looked puzzled until she saw the bag's label and realized Caroline had brought food from her favorite restaurant. "And by the way, happy birthday!"

Deborah smiled and hugged Caroline, grateful for the gesture as her friend was the only one to wish her a happy birthday. They set the table with the food and chatted about trivial things such as TV shows or the latest drama showing on the 9 PM TV slot. [You really make things tough for Christian.]

"Well, he knows I'm not a docile girl, and he loves me for it," Caroline joked as she stuck her tongue cheekily, making Deborah laugh. [Here, these are the recordings.] Deborah handed Caroline two USB drives with all the evidence she had gathered.

"Perfect. I'll give them to my husband so we can start the divorce proceedings," Caroline said seriously, putting the USB drives in her bag.

Deborah thanked her for the help before they continued their meal and conversation. But the meal was interrupted when Deborah suddenly stood and ran to the bathroom to vomit what little she had eaten.

"Deborah? Are you okay?" Caroline hurried after her, alarmed by the unexpected reaction and the sound of her vomiting. She didn't hesitate to enter the bathroom to help and saw how pale Deborah looked. "How long has this been happening? Have you seen a doctor?" Caroline asked, handing Deborah a towel.

[Only recently. And no... I haven't gone to the hospital]

"Forget the meal, I'm taking you to the hospital now," Caroline said with a frown as she helped Deborah stand.

[But my chores...]

"Ah, forget that. The damned house won't collapse if you don't clean it for a day. Your health is more important," Caroline scolded.

[Let me inform Roger.]

"Deborah, please, forget about him. Does he ask for your permission when he sleeps with his mistress?"

[No...]

"Then let's go, my dear. Right now, you need to remember that the most important person in your life is you," Caroline said.

[Thank you.] Deborah smiled, grateful for her friend's support.

"Alright, get up and grab your bag," Caroline ordered as she supported Deborah before pulling out her phone to send a text. "Come on, I'll take you to my doctor to avoid any issues with that maniac."