Stolen Hearing Chapter 2

Jake, who had come with his father, Mr. Sandberg, pleaded with him. Standing beside him, Jane Lincoln, in a beautiful princess dress with elaborate braids, looked at us with pity.

Her gaze held no malice, yet it felt like a needle pricking me. I instinctively clutched my old, faded, stiff clothes.

And so, we received a pair of burning hot hearing aids. And a thin IOU, heavier than a mountain.

That’s how Jake, Jane, and I met.

Children's preferences are brutally straightforward. So I knew early on that Jake liked Jane.

I watched him chase away the little boys who tried to befriend her, awkwardly giving her cheap but pretty hair clips.

I watched him participate in make-believe games he usually found boring, just so he could play Mommy and Daddy with Jane. In their endless games where they were the main characters, I was always either a bystander or the villain.

Once, Jake pushed me down according to the script. Perhaps he didn't control his strength well, and I fell hard to the ground. Rough sand scraped my palms and knees; fresh blood seeped from the wounds, and I cried from the pain.

Jake, who was originally walking towards Jane, suddenly turned around, carrying me on his back, and sprinted towards the infirmary. The slender boy's body erupted with infinite potential. Leaning on his shoulder, I was so stunned I even forgot to cry.

For a moment, I thought I was the heroine of a high school drama.

"Hmph, Jane's into cop movies lately. She keeps saying she only likes heroes."

"Now I guess I'm a hero too, right?"

"Hey, Ruth, considering I saved you, you owe me big time. Make sure you praise me to Jane when you get back."

Those unspoken, fervent girlish feelings were doused with a bucket of cold water, the chill plunging straight to my heart.

I stiffened and said, "Okay."

Later, in our junior year of high school, Jake's father went bankrupt and committed suicide. Jane unilaterally broke up with Jake and moved abroad. I stayed with the penniless Jake, helping him start a business and rebuild his fortune.

He confessed his feelings to me, then proposed. I thought I had finally emerged from Jane's shadow.

I was naive.

I waited in the underground garage for a very, very long time, so long that Jake messaged me to say he had an emergency and couldn't accompany me to the hospital.

Because Jane was upset. He was taking her to set off fireworks in the suburbs.

I silently went upstairs, washed up. When I instinctively sat on the bed, those filthy memories instantly flooded my mind.

So dirty, so dirty.

I ran to the bathroom and vomited until I was dizzy. As I collapsed to the floor, I saw a silver men's ring lying by the drain.

Four years ago, I used my meager savings to buy Jake a silver ring as a birthday gift. It was during the hardest time of his startup, when the dual pressure of mental stress and financial struggles was almost crushing him.

The six-foot-tall man, upon seeing the small silver ring I gave him, actually got tears in his eyes.

He held me very, very tightly, so tightly I could barely breathe. But I only thought to comfort him.

He solemnly promised me: "Ruth, I will definitely make sure we live a good life."

Later, he treasured that silver ring as if his life depended on it, never bearing to take it off. He said seeing the ring was like seeing me; he wanted to see me every minute of every day.

But now, that silver ring lay quietly in a corner of the bathroom, left to dust and grime that dulled its shine.

I picked up the ring.

I slept in the guest room for a night. As I drifted in and out of sleep, a figure climbed onto the bed.

"Ruth, why weren't you waiting for me in the living room today? And why did you sleep in the guest room?"

In the past, no matter how late Jake came home, I would always wait for him on the sofa in the living room. Sometimes I would wait all night. After so many years, it had become our unspoken habit.

"I don't know why, but the bedroom smells really bad."

The smell of infidelity.