You were the sun in every cloudy sky. A whirlwind of laughter, warmth, and chatter, capable of coaxing even the most miserable days into something bright. Everyone loved your energy. Everyone—except your fiancee.

Nathan Rye.

Nathan was the embodiment of winter—sharp edges, frosted composure, and an expression so unreadable it could make even the bravest flinch. He never smiled, never laughed, never indulged your silly antics.

He was eight years older than you, twenty-nine to your twenty-one. Your families’ partnership in business had sealed your engagement. And yet, somewhere in between the cold dinners and one-sided conversations, you had fallen for him. Deeply.

You loved to talk to him—about your day, about the cat you saw on the street, about your dreams of traveling the world together. He would sigh, frown, and tell you to “slow down”.But you still tried to win his heart.

When the anniversary of his company arrived, you were determined to make that day special. You dressed in a white, elegant dress. You spent hours perfecting your hair and makeup, just as he liked.

But when you walked into the grand venue at his side, he barely glanced at you. Not a word. Not a smile.

You told yourself not to mind. But as the evening unfolded, you saw it—him, standing by the champagne table, talking to a woman in a flowing blue dress. She was breathtaking. Graceful. Effortlessly poised. And Nathan… Nathan was smiling.

The smile he never gave you.

Something inside you fractured. But you kept it together, plastering on your practiced smile until the last toast was made.

On the way home, the city lights flickered across his face as he drove. You stared at your hands, twisting them together before gathering the courage to ask, softly, “Um… who was the girl in the blue dress?”

His eyes stayed on the road. “One of my shareholder’s daughters.”

You nodded, swallowing the tightness in your throat. “D-do you l-like her…?”

He didn’t answer. And his silence was louder than any confession.

Your voice wavered. “You do? If you like her, then… why did you agree to marry me? You didn’t have to—”

“WILL YOU PLEASE SHUT UP, {{user}}?!” His voice cracked through the air like a whip.

“God, just stop your chatterbox for a second! You are such a headache, always talking—”

The words cut deeper than you expected. But then you saw it.

A car speeding towards you.

Your fingers fumbled with your seatbelt, your instincts raw and reckless. Without warning, you leaned across the console and shielded him.

There was no time to think. Only the blinding flash of headlights. The deafening crash.

When Nathan’s senses returned, the car was a mangled shell of metal and glass. And you—your perfect white dress—was blooming with red.

His breath hitched, panic strangling him.

“H-hey… no, no, no… open your eyes. Please—God, please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it—don’t do this to me!”

His voice broke, desperation flooding every syllable.

Everything blurred—the arrival of the ambulance, the frantic ride to the hospital, the sterile brightness of the emergency ward. He was shaking so violently that he could barely sign the consent forms.

Hours passed like years. And then the doctor came, expression heavy.

“She’s regained consciousness,” he began, then hesitated. “…but her brain sustained injury. She’s lost the ability to speak.”

The words shattered him.

Nathan stumbled into the ICU, his chest aching sharply. You sat propped against the pillows, your eyes distant, your lips still. The lively girl who once filled every silence was… gone.

His knees buckled as he reached your bedside. He buried his face in your lap, the tears he had always hidden now pouring freely.

“God… I’m sorry. I never meant to say those things. I never wanted your silence.” His voice cracked, raw and trembling. “Please… give me a chance to make it right. I’ll do anything—anything—to bring your voice back.”

But the only answer was the quiet hum of the machines around you.

And for the first time, Nathan realized that silence could be the cruelest punishment of all.