Chapter 2
The front door clicked shut behind Braden, and suddenly the apartment felt too quiet. He'd left twenty minutes ago with that same gentle smile, kissing my forehead and promising he'd be back early from his "quick drink with the guys."
But I couldn't shake what I'd seen on the balcony. Those words I'd lip-read: "bachelor party," "tomorrow night," "she won't know."
I tried to push away the lingering unease, focusing instead on the beautiful white dress hanging on my closet door. Tomorrow, I would become Mrs. Carter. The thought should have filled me with pure joy.
Instead, doubt gnawed at the edges of my happiness like a persistent ache.
I moved through the apartment methodically, checking off items on my mental list. Wedding shoes—polished and ready. Jewelry—my grandmother's pearl earrings. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Everything was perfect, just like Braden always made sure it was.
My phone buzzed with a text from him: [At Jake's place with the guys. Last single night, but I can't wait to marry you tomorrow. Love you, angel.]
Relief flooded through me. See? There was a perfectly reasonable explanation. He was just having a quiet evening with his groomsmen, probably going over tomorrow's schedule one last time.
I smiled, typing back quickly: [Have fun! Don't stay up too late. See you at the altar.]
Braden: [You're the best. Sweet dreams, my future wife.]
I hugged the phone to my chest, that familiar warmth spreading through me. This was silly—letting one strange phone call make me paranoid. Braden loved me. He'd proven it every single day for ten years.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I practiced my wedding vows one more time.
"I, Audrey Baker, take you, Braden Carter..." I paused, smiling at my reflection. "Tomorrow I'll be Audrey Carter." The name felt right on my tongue, like it belonged there.
I brushed my teeth, applied my night cream, and settled into bed with the latest romance novel I'd been reading. The heroine reminded me a bit of myself—overcoming obstacles to find true love. Life really could be like a fairy tale sometimes.
Maybe I'd been reading too many of these books. Real life wasn't full of dark secrets and hidden betrayals. Real life was Braden learning sign language in high school, holding my hand through every doctor's appointment, moving us to this perfect community where everyone treated me like family.
I was being ridiculous.
The clock read 11:17 PM when my phone buzzed with an unknown number.
Usually I ignored calls from strangers, but something made me glance at the screen. It wasn't a call—it was a message with an audio attachment.
The preview text read: [You should listen to this.]
I stared at the message. My finger hovered over the delete button, but curiosity won out.
I tapped play.
At first, there was just background noise—the kind of chaotic sound you'd hear in a crowded bar. Laughter, clinking glasses, music playing in the distance.
I almost deleted it, thinking it was some kind of mistake or spam.
Then I heard a voice I knew better than my own.
"Guys, guys!" Braden's voice cut through the noise, slurred and loud. He was drunk—really drunk. "Tomorrow I'm gonna marry that deaf girl."
My blood turned to ice. The phone trembled in my hands.
"Dude, you sure about this?" Another voice—Jake, his best man. "I mean, she's sweet and all, but..."
"Listen," Braden's voice was clearer now, like he was speaking directly into someone's phone. "Taking care of disabled people is a social responsibility, right? Shows what kind of man I am. Plus, my dad says it's great for the company image."
Laughter erupted from multiple voices. My chest felt like it was caving in.
"But seriously," Braden continued, his words getting sloppier, "she's like having a pet. I say jump, she asks how high. She believes every word I tell her because she thinks I'm some kind of saint for 'loving her despite her disability.'"
The room spun around me. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be my Braden—my gentle, caring Braden who learned sign language and held me through every difficult moment.
"What about in bed?" someone called out, and more laughter followed.
"Oh, that's the best part," Braden's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper that somehow carried clearly through the recording. "Sometimes I call out Scarlett's name when we're fucking, and she has no idea. Poor thing thinks I'm just being passionate."
The world stopped.
Scarlett. He was still thinking about Scarlett—his college girlfriend who'd dumped him three years ago.
"Bro, that's cold," Jake said, but he was laughing.
"She can't hear it!" Braden shouted. "She's deaf, remember? Well, mostly deaf. It's perfect—I get to have my cake and eat it too. Tomorrow I marry the sweet little disabled girl who makes me look like a hero, and Scarlett... well, let's just say she's been very understanding about the situation."
More voices joined in, asking questions I couldn't quite make out through the noise. But I heard enough. More than enough.
"The best part is she thinks she's hearing everything with that fancy hearing aid I bought her," Braden continued. "But half the time, I'm talking to her damaged ear on purpose. She just nods and smiles and thinks I'm being romantic."
My hands were shaking so violently I could barely hold the phone. The audio kept playing, but the voices became a blur of cruel laughter and comments I couldn't process. My brain felt like it was short-circuiting.
I could hear every word. Every single word they were saying.
The realization crept in slowly, like ice water filling my veins. My right ear—it wasn't completely deaf like I'd always pretended. The damage was mild compared to my left ear. In quiet environments, when sounds were clear enough, I could hear almost everything.
And right now, through these phone speakers, in the silence of my bedroom, I was hearing every cruel word with perfect, devastating clarity.
I'd been lying. Not just to Braden, not just to everyone else, but to myself. My right ear worked well enough to catch conversations, phone calls, whispered comments. Well enough to hear the truth I'd been desperately avoiding.
The phone slipped from my hands and clattered to the floor. I sat there in the darkness, staring at my wedding dress hanging on the closet door. That beautiful, expensive dress that Braden had insisted on buying.
Ten years. Ten years of what I thought was the most beautiful love story ever written. Ten years of believing I was cherished, protected, adored.
Ten years of being a performing pet.
I picked up the phone and stared at the unknown number. Who had sent this? Why tonight? Was this some kind of cruel joke, or was someone trying to save me from making the biggest mistake of my life?
The audio file sat there like a poison pill. I could delete it, pretend this never happened, walk down the aisle tomorrow and continue living the lie. Part of me desperately wanted to do exactly that.
But I'd heard every word with my right ear—the ear that could hear, the ear I'd been pretending was just as damaged as my left.
The ear that had been betraying me all along by working too well.
I stared at that wedding dress until my eyes burned, the truth settling over me like a suffocating blanket. Tomorrow was supposed to be the happiest day of my life.
Now I wasn't even sure who I really was anymore.
