He Speaks to Everyone But Me Chapter 01

He Speaks to Everyone But Me Chapter 01

[Ella’s POV]

The moment a shard from the shattered windshield cut into my throat, I heard the husband I’d been shielding scream out, losing control.

“Becca, watch out!”

Becca was my best friend, Rebecca Bennett.

The next second, Owen shoved me off him like I was nothing and crawled out of the wrecked car without looking back. He lunged toward the passenger side and dragged Becca out of the smoking vehicle.

Her voice shook as she gripped his arm. “Owen… you can talk?”

“Ella did speech therapy with you for three years. You never said a word in front of her.”

“Why?”

Owen exhaled, relieved she was okay, and lowered his voice. There was no guilt in his voice, only exhaustion.

“Because she’s too much.”

“Every single day, it’s all those little things. What she ate, what she saw, the weather, whether the flowers downstairs had bloomed.”

“I’ll tell her when she learns to be quiet.”

He didn’t notice I was still pinned in the back seat. Glass shards bit into my skin, blood ran down my neck, and I didn’t have the strength to call out.

Later, I went quiet.

And then Owen stood beside my bed, red-eyed, begging me to speak.

“Ella, please. Just say something. One word.”

The ambulance arrived, and Owen finally remembered I was still in the car. He carried me out of the back seat, holding me tightly, his fingers shaking.

The paramedic asked, “Sir, who is she to you?”

Owen opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

He shook his head, eyes red, and slipped back into the role of the mute husband.

The paramedic thought he was in shock. “Don’t worry, your wife is still alive.”

I couldn’t see Owen through all the blood. I could only feel his hand gripping mine hard. In that moment, I actually let myself believe, for one stupid second, that maybe he loved me.

Just not enough. Not enough to save me, not enough to warm me.

When I woke again, I was in a hospital room.

Outside the door, Becca’s voice was low. “Ella’s still not awake?”

Owen answered, “Yeah.”

My fingers curled under the blanket. His voice really was beautiful, low and clear, exactly like I’d imagined a thousand times.

I used to think that the first time I heard him speak, I’d cry, hug him, and tell him we’d finally made it.

But when that moment finally came, I was lying in a hospital bed, listening to him chat with Becca through the door.

They talked about the accident, then the hospital, then last night’s moon, then the book she was reading, then the new coffee shop downstairs. They were small, random things, exactly the kind of stuff I’d told him every day for three years.

But when I said it, it was noise.

When she said it, he caught every word.

My throat throbbed, but my chest hurt worse.

Owen wasn’t someone who hated talking. He wasn’t someone who couldn’t handle small talk. He just didn’t want it from me.

Silence outside.

Then Becca spoke again. “Owen, you’ve recovered so well. Just tell Ella already. She’d be over the moon.”

I held my breath. For a second, I almost believed he’d say yes.

But he was quiet for a long moment.

“Not yet.”

“I just can’t deal with her right now.”

“She opens her mouth and it’s what she ate, what she saw, whether the flowers are blooming.”

“It’s too much.”

I lay there, and the pain in my body faded into nothing. Something heavy pressed on my chest, slowing my breath.