The Womanizer's Mute Wife Chapter 9: First breath

GENESIS

My senses were on high alert, catching every sound and scent around . After fifteen years locked away, I was finally outside, married, in a car, heading sowhere I didn’t know. The rush of fresh air against my face almost made dizzy.

"Co on," he said, guiding forward with a hand at my back. I flinched away instinctively.

"What do you think I’m going to do to you here?" he asked, stepping closer. His sunglasses hid his eyes, and that made it worse. His hand brushed my waist, steering toward a building ahead. A mall, maybe.

The sun was warm, too warm after years of cold stone walls. The air was filled with roasted chestnuts, exhaust, and perfu. Everything hit at once. Too loud. Too bright. Too alive.

The glass doors slid open, revealing a place so polished it almost hurt to look at. Gold trim. Citrus-scented air. Marble that glead like ice.

"Mr. Blackwood, you’ve arrived," a young woman greeted, perfect smile, perfect tone. She didn’t even look at .

"We’ve prepared what you requested," she said.

"Good," Kier replied. "Bring them to my usual seat."

We walked through silent crowds. Every pair of eyes seed to follow . My heart thudded as I hid behind my hair.

"Sit."

I sank into a soft couch, fingers twisting in my lap. The world around moved fast, too fast, while I sat there—still, small, unseen.

The woman returned, arms full of clothes. "For her," Kier said, and her polite smile faltered for half a second.

"Right this way, miss."

I glanced at him. He nodded once.

Inside the dressing room, she told to undress. I did, and her soft gasp told she saw what I already knew—scars, bruises, reminders. She said nothing, just handed a dress and left.

The yellow gown fit perfectly, like it already knew my shape. I barely recognized the woman in the mirror.

When I stepped out, Kier gave a small nod. No words. That beca the rhythm for the next hour—dress, nod, silence.

Later, I sat in the car while he loaded the bags. Too many of them. Too much. My body ached from pretending everything was fine.

He drove quietly. I didn’t mind. Silence was safer.

As we entered the estates, I spotted a car that made my stomach drop. Familiar. Wrong.

Then I saw him.

Jimmy.

That smile, crooked, cruel, unforgettable. My hands trembled. The old bruises beneath my skin burned like they rembered him too.

Not again. Please, not again.