My Silent Husband Finally Spoke, But He Said My Best Friend’s Name Chapter 01

My Silent Husband Finally Spoke, But He Said My Best Friend’s Name Chapter 01

Windshield glass sliced into my neck, and that was when I heard it—my husband, who had never spoken a word to me, screaming.

“Stella, look out!”

Stella Montgomery. Not me.

It’s my best friend.

He pushed me aside like I was nothing, just wreckage in his way, and crawled out of the car to get to her.

Stella’s voice shook when she spoke.

“Julian… you can talk?”

“Chloe spent three years dragging you to speech therapy, and you never made a sound.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s too loud.”

Once he knew Stella was okay, the tension drained out of him. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“She never stops talking. Every little thing, all day long. It’s exhausting.”

“I’ll tell her when she learns to shut up.”

He didn’t notice me. Didn’t see the tears mixing with the blood on my neck, dripping onto the seat while I lay pinned in the wreckage.

All I could do was smile. A completely hollow smile.

From that day on, I stopped talking.

But then it was his turn to kneel in front of me, his eyes bloodshot, begging me over and over to say something.

“Chloe, please. Please talk to me.”

“Just one word. Anything.”

***

Julian Sterling didn’t remember I was even in the car until the ambulance showed up. Then he pulled me from the wreckage like the car might swallow me whole.

His arms locked around me, but his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

A nurse grabbed his arm. “Sir, are you family?”

Julian’s lips parted, but nothing came out. He just shook his head, his eyes red and brimming with tears.

Just like that, he went silent again. The man who’d just screamed another woman’s name couldn’t find a single word for me.

The nurse softened. She must have thought he was too panicked to speak.

“We’ve got her, okay? Don’t worry. She’s alive.”

Blood kept running into my eyes. I couldn’t make out his face.

All I knew was his grip on my hand, so tight it hurt.

Somewhere in the haze, one stupid thought broke through.

Julian might love me.

Just not enough to matter.

When I came to, I was in a hospital bed.

Stella’s voice drifted in from the hallway, barely more than a whisper. “Is she awake yet?”

Julian made a low sound. A muffled no.

My fingers curled into the sheets.

So that’s what he sounded like.

The exact voice I’d imagined, all those nights I’d spent wondering what he’d sound like if he ever spoke.

I used to picture the moment I’d finally hear it. I’d cry. I’d throw my arms around him.

Instead, I was lying in a hospital bed, listening to him give that voice to someone else.

They talked about the accident, then the hospital, and then it drifted to the weather outside, some book Stella had been reading, a new coffee shop that had just opened nearby.

The smallest, most meaningless things.

But when I said them, to him, it was just noise.

My throat burned so intensely it went numb.

But that wasn’t the part that hurt the most.

Julian didn’t hate talking. He didn’t mind the boring, trivial stuff.

He just didn’t want to share it with me.

Stella went quiet for a long time before she spoke again.

“Julian, you’ve been able to talk this whole time.”

“If you told her, she’d be so happy she’d cry.”

The silence stretched so long I actually let myself believe he’d agree to tell me.

But when he finally answered, his voice was flat.

“Not yet.”

“I just don’t feel like talking to her.”

“Every time she talks, it’s the same thing. What she had for lunch, what she saw on her walk, the damn flowers in the front yard.”

“It’s just constant noise.”