I stood outside the hospital, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the pavement. In my hand was an envelope, heavy with two pieces of life-altering truth: the results of my restored hearing… and a positive pregnancy test. My fingers trembled slightly, but my heart surged with hope. I wanted Bobbie to be the first to know. He had stayed with me through it all—my accident, the surgeries, the silence that followed. Or so I thought.
With quiet determination, I walked through the towering glass doors of Lawrence Corporation, feeling like I was about to rewrite the ending of a sad story into something beautiful. I pictured Bobbie's expression when he saw me—the softness in his ocean-blue eyes, his smile blooming with joy, the way he’d lift me into his arms when I told him everything had changed.
But just as I neared his office, voices drifted through the half-open door. Familiar. Jarring.
“Four years, man,” said a voice, low and teasing. Harold.
I stopped mid-step, heart stalling.
“You still hung up on Viola Chandler?”
Viola? My childhood friend. His ex.
Bobbie’s voice followed, calm and far too familiar. “I never stopped loving her.”
The air around me turned brittle. My grip on the envelope tightened.
“You gave her control of the company?” Harold asked.
“She earned it,” Bobbie replied. “She left me for Leonard, but I still want her taken care of. That’s what love is.”
“What about your wife?” Harold said after a beat. “Vickie?”
Silence stretched. I barely breathed.
“She’s… convenient,” Bobbie muttered. “Deaf. Helpless. But rich. Her family’s assets? I own most of them now. She doesn’t even know.”
My knees buckled slightly, but I forced myself to remain still, unseen.
“She’s your wife, man.”
“She worships me. She’d walk into fire if I asked.” A dry chuckle. “She’s a puppet. She can’t hear a damn thing. I curse at her all the time for kicks.”
Harold didn’t laugh. “What if she finds out the accident wasn’t really an accident?”
“Then she dies never knowing,” Bobbie said coldly. “Her parents got in the way. I did what I had to do.”
My stomach turned. My parents? My accident? My mind screamed to deny it, but the truth rang louder than the lies I'd lived with.
The envelope slipped from my hand, fluttering to the floor.
The voices in the room went silent.
“Did you hear that?” Harold hissed.
Footsteps.
“Relax,” Bobbie said smoothly. “She’s deaf.”
I had never wished harder to be deaf again.
The door creaked open. I met Bobbie’s gaze—those same blue eyes I once loved. He didn’t flinch. Just smiled with artificial warmth and lifted his hands in sign. “Hey, sweetheart. You surprised me.”
I forced a smile. My heart had turned to stone. “I thought we could have lunch.”
“Of course,” he replied, gesturing toward the door.
Before we could leave, his phone buzzed on the desk. He didn’t even look away as he picked it up and answered with a swipe, putting it on speaker.
“Bobbie?” A soft, syrupy voice. Viola. “I miss you… Can we see each other?”
Something flickered in his expression—gentler, more real than anything he’d shown me in years. He glanced at me briefly and signed, “I have something to do. Later.”
He turned and walked out.
No apology. No guilt.
I stood alone in the office, the walls closing in. My chest felt like it was being carved open from the inside. Bobbie had spoken to me in sign language for years—tender words, patient hands. Lies. All of it, lies.
I’d trusted him. Believed in him. Loved him so much it blinded me to the cracks.
Viola. Bobbie. The accident. My parents. Everything was a betrayal—layered, intentional, cruel.
By the time I reached the building's exit, my tears had dried. In my hand, I still held the envelope. Proof of a future that didn’t deserve to exist with him.
I pulled out my phone, dialed with icy calm.
“People's General Hospital. How can we help you?”
“I’d like to schedule a procedure,” I said quietly.
“For what, ma’am?”
I paused for a second.
“An abortion.”
