He was gazing at her, and the light in his eyes
was brighter than any star I had ever seen.
In that moment, I finally understood.
Chester didn't have mutism. He simply had nothing to say to me.
If that was the case, then this one-woman show was over.
——
I knew the song Chester was singing. I knew it well.
When we were first together, he used to hum it in front of me constantly.
The look he'd worn back then—it was the same one on his face right now.
My vision blurred.
For three years, I had wanted nothing more than to hear Chester speak again.
Even one word would have been enough.
He never gave me that.
Now the wish had come true, and a thousand days and nights of chasing doctors and begging for cures became a joke.
I swallowed the tears back down and returned to the bedroom.
Chester's phone sat on the nightstand.
He had given me his passcode a long time ago.
I had never once opened it. I trusted him. We were married.
Six years together—dating and married—and this was the first time I'd ever wanted to check.
He had one pinned contact on WeChat now.
Glenda Fox.
Back when we were dating, I had complained about how slow he was at replying and half-jokingly begged him to pin my chat.