He Speaks to Everyone But Me Chapter 04

He Speaks to Everyone But Me Chapter 04

[Ella’s POV]

That night, I barely slept. I woke in the dark to find his side of the bed empty and his tablet glowing on the nightstand.

His messaging app was still logged in. Becca’s name was at the top.

There were dozens of voice messages from him. The latest had been sent ten minutes ago.

I tapped it. Owen’s voice came through, low and soft, like a stranger’s voice.

“Becca, you asleep?”

“Can’t sleep again?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll sing you something.”

Then a quiet lullaby.

I scrolled up. He’d sent her so many messages. Good mornings. Good nights. Weather updates. Song clips. Coffee shop recommendations. Book quotes. All the little things I used to think only I noticed.

He knew how to share. He knew how to share his life with someone else.

I listened to every single one, and then I laughed. I laughed until tears streaked the screen.

I turned off the tablet and pulled out the divorce papers my lawyer had prepared.

In the U.S., divorce wasn’t as simple as signing a name. I’d already signed the petition and the preliminary settlement proposal. My lawyer would file with the court. If Owen agreed to an uncontested divorce, he’d sign the response and the final settlement agreement. If not, we’d let the case move through court.

That night, I signed everything on my side.

After 1 a.m., I heard a noise at the door.

I froze.

Multiple footsteps.

Someone was trying our lock code.

Through the peephole, I saw three men I didn’t know standing outside.

Cold sweat broke out on my back. My hands shook so badly I could barely grip my phone. Instinct made me text Owen.

[Someone’s at the door trying to get in.]

[Can you send me a voice message? Please.]

I waited, barely breathing.

He replied fast.

Too fast.

[Ella, you know I can’t speak.]

Then he forwarded a few pre-recorded audio clips he’d found online. Titles like:

[Must-have for women living alone: fake boyfriend voice]

[Play this if a stranger knocks. Instant safety.]

I stared at the screen. My fingers went numb.

He could speak.

He could’ve sent one line, like “Who’s there?” or “I’ve called the cops,” and scared them off.

But he’d rather send cheap internet clips than use his own voice to save me.

The men were still trying codes. I didn’t have time to fall apart. My hands trembling, I played one of the clips at full volume.

A rough male voice played through the speaker. “Who’s there? It’s late.”

Silence outside.

Then one of them snorted. “Fake. I’ve heard that on TikTok.”

The scraping at the lock grew louder.

In the next second, they were about to burst in——