The Deafening Heartbreak

"How do you even put up with Sloane's temper?" a guy joked to my boyfriend at the reunion.

Asher tapped the hearing aid in his right ear with his long fingers. "I take it out." The whole room erupted in laughter.

Every time we fought, he would just pull out his hearing aid and shut out my voice. I grabbed the glass of ice water from the table and hurled it at the wall right behind him.

The glass shattered with a deafening crash as I spun on my heel and shoved my way out the door. He didn't come after me. Three months later, I came home.

He finished washing up, threw back the covers, and climbed into bed. He shifted closer, trying to press his warm chest against me.

I instinctively rolled onto my side, leaving him with my back. I was finally certain. I didn't love him anymore.

Chapter 1 I didn't go back to the house I shared with Asher until my third day back in the country. The moment I opened the door, the emptiness hit me.

You could tell no one had lived here for a while. Sure, the cleaning lady came by, but the absence of human presence was a very tangible thing.

I carried my bag to the entryway and pulled up the security footage on the monitor. The archive only kept records for the last thirty days.

In that entire month, Asher hadn't stepped foot in the house once. Perfect. At midnight, the master bedroom speakers were blasting heavy bass rock music at max volume.

The floorboards were literally vibrating. I was sprawled on my stomach on the bed, mashing the buttons on my controller like a maniac.

The music was so loud I didn't hear the front door open. When the speakers suddenly cut off, my first thought was that the house was haunted. I snapped my head around.

Asher stood at the foot of the bed.

He had those silverrimmed glasses on, looking every bit the refined, coldhearted bastard he was. "You're back?" I turned back to my screen and kept playing. "Yeah.

Been back for three days." Asher didn't say a word for a long time. It wasn't until my match ended that I realized he was still standing there, completely still.

He finally spoke, claiming he'd been too busy lately and promising he'd definitely fly out with me for the next exhibition.

I tilted my head up to look at him. "Don't worry about it. My girls and I had a great time." Later, Asher finished washing up and slid into bed next to me.

I instinctively rolled onto my side, giving him my back. It hit me right then. I didn't think I loved him anymore.

A sudden tightness gripped my throat, and hot tears spilled over my lashes, rapidly soaking into the cotton pillowcase. I used to think just being by his side was enough.

But human nature is greedy. I wanted him to actually love me. On the surface, Asher was the perfect boyfriend, always at my beck and call. Until that day.

That was when I realized there was a massive, uncrossable fault line between us. He refused to let me in. Asher had cofounded his current company with a guy from college.

When that friend got married, the wedding invitation arrived at our house. Naturally, I assumed Asher would take me as his plusone.

I picked out a wedding gift in advance, booked a makeup artist for the big day, and found a dress that was elegant but wouldn't upstage the bride. Then the day of the wedding came.

My quiet anticipation slowly burned down to a humiliating, bitter ash in my stomach. The only thing I got was a post on social media from one of our mutual friends.

A massive group photo from the reception. So Asher was a groomsman.

The bridesmaid next to him was pressing herself tightly against his arm, tilting her head up and staring right at him. I swiped down to refresh the page. The post vanished.

I had been blocked from seeing it. When Asher finally walked through the door, I was just scrolling on my iPad.

I didn't look up. "You're back." As he walked through the living room, I pointed at the wrapped box sitting on the coffee table. "That's the jewelry I bought for the bride.

Make sure you give it to her." "Yeah," he grunted. That day ripped a massive hole in my chest. The wound completely festered and burst open on Valentine's Day.

I went to Asher's company to grab lunch with him. As I walked past the front desk, my steps faltered. The receptionist looked at me. "Hi, miss. Who are you here to see?

Do you have an appointment?" I opened my mouth to answer. Suddenly, the receptionist's eyes lit up.

Her polite customerservice smile instantly melted into something sickeningly sweet and genuine. "Good afternoon, Asher!" I watched the exchange, my eyes darting between them.

The group photo from the wedding flashed in my mind. That was when it clicked. This receptionist was the bridesmaid from that day. Chapter 2 I took a step forward.

Beside Asher, Bennett instinctively took a step back.

I looped my arm directly through Asher's. "Do I need an appointment to see your boss?" I kept my eyes on Asher, but the question was aimed right at the receptionist.

Bennett was the one who scrambled to answer. "No, no, of course not, Sloane. You never need an appointment.

Just call me directly, and I'll come down to get you," Bennett said with a nervous chuckle.

Asher's brows pulled together. "Why didn't you call ahead?" I tilted my head. "Because then it wouldn't be a surprise." Though, knowing Asher, it was probably just a shock.

We stepped into the elevator. Just as the doors were closing, the receptionist dashed over, hugging a stack of files and yelling for us to hold it.

Bennett instinctively hit the open button. When she squeezed in, all the color drained from Bennett's face.

He looked like he wanted to pry the elevator doors open and throw himself down the shaft. "Sorry about that!" she chirped, stepping inside. "Chase needs this file right now." Asher gave a single nod.

The hearing aid in his ear was painfully obvious. Out of nowhere, the receptionist blurted, "Asher, can you hear everything just by wearing that?" She tapped her own ear.

My entire body went rigid. I stared at her. Before Asher could even open his mouth, she seemed to realize what she'd just said and scrambled to apologize.

I yanked my arm out of Asher's grasp. He turned his head to look at me. I glared right back.

Asher slowly turned back to her. "If you know it's rude, keep your mouth shut." He adjusted his cuff, his jawline locked tight.

He didn't show a single trace of emotion, but the air in the elevator instantly dropped to freezing.

The little receptionist jerked back, her spine slamming hard against the elevator wall. She gripped her files in a death choke, not daring to make a sound.

Once she finally got off on her floor, Bennett tried to do damage control. "I am so sorry, Sloane. That girl is Chase's sisterinlaw.

She's just an intern, she doesn't know the rules." I almost felt bad for him. When we hit the top floor, I didn't step out. I looked at Asher. "My bad.

I just remembered I have plans today." It was a blatant rejection of our lunch. Bennett opened his mouth, desperately trying to salvage the situation.

But Asher just stood there in the lobby. "Alright. Call me when you're done." The doors automatically slid shut. The elevator dropped.

Asher and I locked eyes through the glass doors until he disappeared into the darkness above.

I had no way of knowing what he told Bennett after I left. "Aren't you going to go after her?" Bennett had asked.

Asher's response had been flat. "All I need to do is accept whatever she wants, isn't it?" Bennett had thought about his boss's past and snapped his mouth shut.

After all, I was a Montgomery. And the Montgomery family owned everything. Another year dragged by.

A high school friend we both knew was getting married, and the invitation had both our names on it. Asher had meetings stacked that day, but I dragged him along anyway.

The moment I watched the bride walking down the aisle in that pure white dress, a sharp pang hit my chest. So this was what a wedding felt like.

When the officiant told the groom to kiss the bride, I turned my head to look at Asher. He was already looking at me. We drove home from the reception in complete silence.

My phone vibrated against my leg. It was Montgomery, telling me to bring Asher home for dinner this weekend.

Chapter 3 I spun my phone in my hand, pretending I didn't care as I dropped the question. "Are you free this weekend?" Asher was glancing at the traffic in the rearview mirror. "Why?" "My dad… asked if you wanted to grab dinner." The visible side of his face went rigid. "I have a business trip this weekend." I pushed back, refusing to drop it. "What about next weekend?

Or the one after that?" Asher didn't say a word. We drove into a tunnel, and the warm glow of the streetlights washed away from us.

In the sudden darkness, I looked at him. "Asher, do you hate me, or do you hate my dad?" The dam finally broke. "Every single time my dad invites you, you always have some excuse.

Did he do something to piss you off?" Asher reached out and grabbed my wrist.

When he finally opened his mouth, all he said was, "We'll talk about this when we get home." His deflection just made me reckless. "Asher, are you just an ungrateful bastard?

My dad treated you so well!" The brakes slammed hard. The tires screeched against the asphalt. Even with the seatbelt locking across my chest, I still jerked forward.

Asher lunged closer, his hand clamping down on my jaw like an iron vise. His knuckles went white, and his eyes were cold enough to slice right through my skin. "Right.

I'm just the charity case your family funded." I couldn't wrap my head around it. "Asher, this is about you and me. Why do you always have to drag your background into this?

Have I ever looked down on you? Have I ever made you feel like you weren't enough?" Asher's fingers slowly loosened their grip on my jaw.

He stared at me, his lips parted slightly, but he couldn't force a single syllable out.

When he finally spoke, his voice sounded like crushed gravel. "But that's exactly what I am." He reached up and yanked the hearing aid out of his right ear. "And I'm deaf." My brain was still shortcircuiting from the sight of the device in his palm.

Asher shifted the car back into drive and hit the gas. The only thing left in the heavy silence was his final sentence. "I told you a long time ago.

We're not a match." He was right.

When Asher finally agreed to be with me, he had asked, "Even if I never end up loving you?" It was the first time he had ever cracked the door open for me.

I had frozen, then nodded frantically. So he had said, "Fine. We can try." He was right. I was the idiot. The moon was never going to come down to me.

After that night, I packed a bag and flew straight to London for the art exhibition without telling him. For three entire months, I didn't reach out to Asher once.

Asher, on the other hand, started acting completely out of character. He would occasionally text me when it was night in London and the dead of dawn for him. [ It's raining.

Take an umbrella. ] I left him on read. Art shows, snowboarding, bungee jumping… I threw myself into every distraction I could find.

The night before my flight back, I finally sent him a text. We need to talk when I get back. He never replied to that one.

But the moment I jumped off that snowcapped peak in Austria, the freezing air wiping my mind clean, it hit me. I needed to stop clinging to a ghost.

I had been so obsessed with forcing a "happily ever after" with Asher.

But even if I somehow dragged us to the finish line, would it magically erase all the collateral damage it took to get there?

I dragged out my return, finally stepping back into our house on the third day. I checked the security cameras and saw he hadn't been home in a month.

But then, at midnight, he walked through the door. Asher told me he would come with me on my next trip. I knew exactly what that was.

It was his twisted, rigid way of waving a white flag. But I just gave him a polite, hollow smile. "Don't worry about it.

My girls and I had a great time." Later that night, as I was drifting in and out of sleep, hot skin brushed against my palm. His fingers slid between mine, gripping my hand tight.

Maybe even someone as cold as Asher could finally feel the tectonic plates shifting beneath us. Chapter 4 I slept until the afternoon the next day.

As soon as I got up, I started packing. I had even brought an empty suitcase from home specifically for this.

When I got to the nightstand and pulled the drawer open, there was a small velvet box inside that I had never seen before. A spike of dread hit my stomach.

But I still reached out and popped it open. It was a ring. The exact ring I used to dream Asher would give me.

The fading evening light filtered through the sheer curtains, catching the metal and flashing in my eyes. Engraved on the inner band was a single word: Apple. It gleamed.

Tucked inside the small box was a folded piece of paper. You are the apple of my eye. Signed two years ago, on Valentine's Day.

The long shadows cast by the sunset on the hardwood floor suddenly shifted. A second silhouette appeared. I snapped my head up. Asher was back.

I grabbed the ring and marched right up to him, swallowing down the hot sting behind my eyes until the veins in my neck bulged. I shoved the ring in his face. "So?

Is this what you meant when you said—" I slammed the velvet box hard against his chest.

The box bounced off him and hit the floor with a dull thud. "—we're not a match?" Asher glanced down at the note that had fluttered to the floor and bent down to pick it up.

I slapped it right out of his hand. "Say something!" I screamed. "Have you gone mute, Asher?!" He always knew exactly how to light a match to my sanity.

But in the very beginning, we weren't like this. We weren't constantly at each other's throats.

Asher was a charity case who got in on a fullride scholarship, and that exact scholarship program was fully funded by the Montgomery Group.

But even among the scholarship kids, Asher stood out. He stood out because he was deaf in one ear.

The words charity case, deaf, and valedictorian were like blood in the water for the local media covering the school.

The first time we met, a swarm of reporters was shoving microphones in his face, asking how it felt to be sponsored.

One sharpeyed journalist spotted me getting crushed against the wall by the crowd. "Asher, Sloane Montgomery is right behind you.

She's in your grade, and her father is your benefactor. Is it awkward interacting with her every day?" God help me. Asher didn't even know who I was.

But he just smiled, asked the crowd to step back, and pulled me out of the crush of bodies to a safe distance. "Sloane is great.

She's always been very friendly with everyone." After that incredibly painful interview ended, we walked back to the main building together.

As we passed each other in the hallway to go to our separate classes, I caught sight of the device tucked into his ear. "Can you hear everything just by wearing that?" I was genuinely curious.

It wasn't until Asher turned around that I realized I had said that incredibly rude thought out loud.

He just looked back at me with a halfsmile and gave me an answer that had nothing to do with the question. "I still have my other ear." If the Sloane from ten years later had been standing there, she would have missed that high school version of Asher terribly.

Back then, he actually talked. But the girl standing there was seventeenyearold Sloane. And that totally random answer hit her right in the chest.

I decided I wanted to be his friend. I went out of my way to talk to him.

Since Asher was top of the class, I used tutoring as an excuse to show up at his classroom every single day. I even sat in on his lectures.

During a group English project, Asher mentioned his favorite fruit was apples.

So, that Christmas, I stuffed bright red apples into the desks of every single student in his homeroom. From that day on, every scholarship kid in school knew exactly who I was.

Chapter 5 Only Asher knew his was different. He got the only unique card. It was honestly the smartest thing I had ever done in my entire life.

Written on the card was: You are the apple of my eye. Asher didn't say anything back, but the look he gave me that day had lost a layer of defense.

His tense jawline had slightly relaxed. One day after school, I dragged him to a boba shop to force my favorite drink on him.

Sitting across from him in the booth, I kept gnawing on my lower lip, stumbling over my words. Asher watched me struggling, let out a slow exhale, and said, "Spit it out.

What do you want?" I flashed a winning smile and stirred my boba with the thick straw. "Okay, promise you won't get mad.

I'm just curious…" "I looked it up online, and it said some people with hearing loss aren't completely deaf. What about you?" His lips curved into a soft smile. "Yeah, that's true.

It has to be really, really loud, right next to my ear, for me to hear a tiny bit of sound." "Can you take it off?" I asked. He had been so cooperative lately.

He obliged and pulled the earpiece out. I leaned in right next to his ear and spoke just a little louder than my normal volume. "How about this?" He didn't even blink.

No reaction at all. I got so caught up in the moment that I completely forgot his left ear worked perfectly fine.

I screamed right into his ear, "I like you!" Now it wasn't just Asher who knew. The whole damn world knew. The whole world knew Sloane had a massive crush on Asher.

But whether Asher liked Sloane… even Sloane herself had no clue. "Say something, Asher!" Twentysevenyearold Sloane was screaming at him now.

Asher closed the distance in two long strides, yanking me into his arms.

His arms wrapped around my waist like thick vines, pulling me flush against him as his ragged breaths hit the crook of my neck. "I'm sorry, Sloane." His rough fingers tangled deep in my hair, pressing my head hard against his chest.

I shoved hard against his shoulders, breaking his grip. "Seven years. We've been together for seven years, and you really can't give me a single explanation?

Even a lie would do!" What the hell had he been doing all these years? Freezing me out, while secretly buying a ring behind my back. "Fine.

I admit it." Asher's voice suddenly cut through the heavy air. "I admit I'm a coward