He Took Off His Hearing Aid To Ignore My Screams Chapter 04

He Took Off His Hearing Aid To Ignore My Screams Chapter 04

“Cut it out, that’s not funny.”

“Let me know where you are next time, don’t make me worry.”

Vaughn brushed my words off as a bad joke, ruffled my hair, and headed for the shower.

His phone sat on the coffee table, lighting up nonstop with notifications.

I couldn’t help but glance over.

His lock screen photo was no longer our wedding studio portrait—it was a shot of a girl’s back.

Sorrel’s texts flooded the screen one after another.

Sorrel: [Vaughn, I had such an amazing time today. You’re just as gentle and caring as you were when we dated.]

Sorrel: [You said you’d only be soft and patient with me, that you’d listen to every word I say. You didn’t break your promise.]

The last flicker of warmth inside me died completely.

I pushed the pain aside, walked to our bed, and pulled the covers over my head.

Vaughn stepped out of the shower a little while later, his phone screen still glowing bright.

He glanced at his messages, then glanced at me, torn between responding to her and checking on me.

That split second of hesitation said everything I needed to know.

Surprisingly, he didn’t text Sorrel back right away. Instead, he slid under the covers behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“Did you get your exam results? How’d it go?”

I stayed rigid, refusing to turn toward him. “Everything’s fine.”

He exhaled in relief, ready to keep talking, but I cut him off first.

“Vaughn, I want a divorce.”

“I was assaulted, and I lost our baby. I can’t keep living like this with you.”

This time, he hadn’t taken his hearing aid off. He heard every word crystal clear.

His face darkened instantly.

“Elara, you’re making up wild stories just to pick another fight.”

His hand drifted toward the back of his ear, a motion of frustration and exhaustion.

The next second, he pulled his hearing aid off all over again.

I watched that familiar movement, and I went completely numb.

He didn’t believe me.

He thought this was just another argument he could avoid.

“We’ll talk about this once you’ve calmed down.”

Vaughn and I fell into a cold war that dragged on for days. Every so often, I’d scroll Instagram and see Sorrel posting selfies taken on his phone.

Vaughn hated having his photo taken. We only owned one single wedding portrait after three years of marriage.

But Sorrel posted a photo dump every time they hung out.

I tapped like on every post, then blocked his account entirely.

For weeks afterward, Vaughn spent most nights at the hospital or crashed in a hotel instead of coming home.

He didn’t even notice when I moved all my things out.

I rented a small riverside low-rent apartment on the outskirts of town.

Before I left the house, I left fully signed divorce papers laid out on the dining table where he couldn’t miss them.

I’d stayed in town only because the perpetrators had been arrested, and I needed to testify in court.

The morning of the trial, reporters lined the courthouse steps, filming live news coverage.

…

At the exact same time, Vaughn was making rounds at the hospital.

A group of patients huddled around a wall-mounted television, chattering loudly.

“The assault case from our neighborhood is in court today.”

“It’s awful. Word is she was pregnant when it happened—how could those two men do something so cruel?”

“Hey, Dr. Reed lives in that complex, right? Do you know the poor woman?”

The patients shifted to make space, pointing the live broadcast screen toward him.

Vaughn finished scribbling patient notes and prepared to shake his head, until his gaze landed on a familiar face on screen.

Reporters swarmed around me in the footage.

He fought the urge to tear his hearing aid off, but his arms felt heavy, locked in place.

“Ms. Macy, did you try to fight back?”

“I did.”

“Was there anyone else nearby?”

“Yes.”

“Did you scream for help?”

“I did.”

The reporter’s voice rose with anger. “Who was there? How could someone stand by and let this happen?”

I paused, my voice soft and broken.

“My husband.”

“He’d taken his hearing aid off. He couldn’t hear me.”

With every sentence, I looked like I was reliving that terrifying night all over again, my hands shaking uncontrollably.

A loud clatter echoed through the ward.

Vaughn had stumbled backward, crashing into a metal supply cabinet.

He ignored the sharp pain shooting through his body, shoved past every patient and staff member, and sprinted out of the hospital without a second thought.