Pretended to Need Quiet, Loved Another’s Chaos Chapter 01

Pretended to Need Quiet, Loved Another’s Chaos Chapter 01

My husband, Adrian Pierce, suffered from severe insomnia. When he slept, the house had to be completely silent.

After six years of marriage, silence had become second nature to me. I never watched TV, made phone calls, or ate anything after nine at night. I even walked on tiptoe.

Whenever I saw Adrian sleeping soundly, every sacrifice felt worthwhile.

Then one day, I stopped by his office to deliver some files and found the door slightly ajar.

His young assistant, Faye Collins, sat cross-legged on the rug, eating chips with a reality show blaring from the TV. Adrian was asleep on the couch.

Faye reached for the remote, but without opening his eyes, he lifted a hand and stroked her hair.

“Don’t turn it down. I sleep better with a little noise.”

Standing outside the door, I remembered the terrible cold I’d had the month before. Afraid my coughing would wake him, I’d buried my face in my pillow and held back every cough all night.

The next morning, he’d frowned at me.

“Your breathing was so loud last night that I barely slept. Try to keep it down next time.”

The crunch of Faye’s chips mingled with Adrian’s slow, steady breathing as I backed away from the door.

Silence had never been the cure for his insomnia. Faye was.

And I wasn’t.

After that, he’d never have to hear me at night again.

***

I sat in the parking garage until five. Then my phone lit up with three messages.

[Where’s the campaign proposal?]

[Are you even taking this seriously?]

[The project is on hold until you fix your attitude.]

Adrian had grown colder with every year of our marriage. My agency had worked twice as hard as any of our competitors just to win the campaign for Pierce Cosmetics.

Once we secured the account, he withheld budget approval over the smallest issues. Now he’d put the entire project on hold.

He always claimed it was strictly business. Being married didn’t mean he should lower his standards for me.

That morning, however, Faye had posted a photo on Instagram.

Adrian stood in a white dress shirt and black slacks, his sleeves rolled to his forearms as he stocked a shelf with chips.

The light softened his striking profile, and he wore a faint smile.

[Mr. Pierce personally restocked my snacks and said my job is basically to eat and have fun!]

My chest tightened when I saw it.

Adrian had always been serious. In college, he was the brilliant, intimidating student who never smiled and never bent the rules.

Except for me.

He’d spoiled me without reservation.

Even now, old photos of him staying up all night to help me revise my thesis and videos of him coaxing me to eat bell peppers were still making the rounds on our old college forum.

Somewhere along the way, I’d stopped being the exception.

My phone buzzed again.

[Something came up. Working late.]

Before I could answer, I spotted them across the garage.

Faye walked backward, laughing and clapping as her ponytail swung behind her. Adrian followed at an easy pace, watching her with a quiet smile.

It took me a long moment to look away.

I wasn’t the one who made him smile anymore, either.

Adrian came home at eleven that night.

I was still awake, watching a noisy reality show. The laughter from the TV made him frown as soon as he entered the living room.

“Ivy, it’s too loud.”

I didn’t answer. I grabbed a handful of chips and stuffed them into my mouth.

His expression tightened.

“I put the project on hold because you didn’t deliver the proposal on time. There’s no reason to take it out on me.”

Still chewing, I looked up at him.

“You’ve made us revise it eight times. Whether I delivered this version today wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“It’s my company’s campaign. I’m allowed to ask an outside agency for revisions.”

“Revisions are reasonable. Rejecting every version without even reading it isn’t.”

His face hardened. His back went rigid at the noise from the TV and my chewing.

“Turn it off, Ivy. And get off the floor. You’re dropping crumbs all over the rug.”

The chips crumbled in my clenched fist.

All I could see was Faye sitting on the rug earlier that day, eating chips and watching TV. The same hand that had stroked her hair now picked up the remote and shut off the television.

The living room went silent.

Adrian turned toward the bedroom, but the faint crunch beneath his foot stopped him. A second later, he headed for the door.

“It’s too noisy here. I’m sleeping at the office tonight.”

He changed his shoes and was out the door within seconds.

I saw my reflection in the dark television screen. Without a word, I threw the rest of the chips in the trash.

After midnight, Faye updated her Instagram Story.

[Mr. Pierce took me to karaoke, and apparently my singing works better than a lullaby?!]

The video was dimly lit as Faye sang into the camera. The volume was so loud that I flinched and immediately muted it.

Then she turned the camera around.

Adrian was asleep on the couch.

At home, he wouldn’t let me move his pillow even an inch. If I changed the smallest detail in the bedroom, he claimed he couldn’t sleep.

Yet there he was in a deafening karaoke lounge, his head resting on one arm and one leg hanging off the couch. No matter how loudly Faye sang, he slept right through it.

Noise had never been the problem.

I was.

I wanted to let out a bitter laugh, but after six years of keeping quiet, the habit ran so deep that I couldn’t make a sound.

I didn’t sleep that night.

At dawn, I called a contractor and asked him to remove all the carpeting in the house. He sounded surprised.

“Didn’t you have all that carpeting installed to keep the house quiet for your husband’s insomnia?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re getting divorced,” I said. “His insomnia isn’t my problem anymore.”