Unspoken Hearts: My Neglected Mute Wife’s Escape

Chapter 3:

Kallie gestured, indicating that last night wasn’t during her fertile days. A glint of disappointment flickered in Jake’s eyes as he responded, “Good to know you’ve thought it through.”

Kallie didn’t note his feelings, assuming he wasn’t interested in having children. She turned to gaze out the window, her eyes skimming over the cityscape.

“Would you like to go shopping? Or perhaps a spa day? I can arrange for someone to go with you,” Jake offered, his voice trailing from behind her.

Kallie shook her head, her sign language indicating she had work to attend to.

Jake said gently, “You’re not in a crucial position. You don’t have to push yourself so hard. You can just stay home and enjoy life as my wife.”

To Kallie, though devoid of love, Jake was nearly the ideal husband in every other respect. Apart from making breakfast for him, she had no other household worries, and he provided her with a generous monthly allowance. He even furnished her with a supplementary credit card for unrestricted spending.

However, Kallie yearned for love, not material comforts.

had vowed to cherish her and love her forever. While he had kept his first promise,

in her thoughts, Kallie barely noticed the car come to a stop.

revealed a pale face marred by

you love at

she spoke in a soft, pleading voice. “I waited and waited for you but never heard anything. I went to your house, and they told me you were at your brother’s baby’s hundred-day celebration. I had to follow you here, just hoping for a chance to see you. Are you really angry with me? Did you come

in Sarah’s words. Kallie could sense the indirect

Jake’s aloof demeanor softened slightly. “Do you

playful pout, “If you want an apology, you’ll have to let me do it face-to-face. How can I apologize properly while standing out

shifted intently toward

after a moment.

Jake would always drop her right at the door. Kallie, obedient as ever, nodded and stepped out

out disinfectant wipes from her purse and thoroughly cleaning the seat

puzzled. “What’s all

I’m a germaphobe? You promised that the passenger seat would be exclusively mine when you’re driving, and when others drive, we’d be the only two occupying the backseat. I just want

injured, Sarah threw a defiant