He Took Off His Hearing Aid And My Love Died Chapter 01
Every time we fought, Julian Vance removed his hearing aid.
He’d just let me scream at nothing — rage and cry and wear myself out while he sat there in silence, untouchable. Every single time, I’d fall apart.
But this time, I just stood there.
Because I remembered something. He never did this to Audrey Mercer.
Once, he’d made her furious. She slapped him so hard his hearing aid flew off and shattered on the floor. And what did Julian do? He dropped to his knees, scrambling for the pieces, and begged.
“Audrey, please don’t be mad. Don’t shut me out…”
He wasn’t angry. He was terrified.
Without his hearing aid, he couldn’t hear the emotion in her voice. He couldn’t catch her answer if she gave one. So the second it was replaced, he went straight to her — just so she could repeat every word she’d screamed at him that day.
He wanted to hear all of it.
Seven years of something I couldn’t name rose in my chest all at once. I looked at Julian and it hit me — I’d never really been part of his world.
The moment I went quiet, Julian slipped his hearing aid back in like nothing had happened.
“Got it all out of your system? Go start dinner — make BBQ ribs. Audrey’s coming over, and they’re her favorite.”
My voice came out barely above a whisper. “Julian, I want a divorce.”
***
He went still. His hand drifted up to his ear.
“What? Say that again.”
“I said—”
His phone buzzed at the same moment, cutting me off. He glanced at the screen, and his mouth tugged into a half-smile.
“Audrey just texted. I’ve gotta go pick her up.”
He was already heading for the door. “Don’t forget dinner. And no onions — Audrey can’t stand them.”
Then he was gone. Seven years of marriage, and he had every last one of Audrey’s preferences memorized.
All I ever got was the same line: “How am I supposed to know what you want if you don’t tell me?”
But Audrey never had to tell him anything. One small frown, and Julian would spiral for hours trying to figure out what was wrong.
I didn’t make the ribs.
Instead, I made a full Cajun spread — the kind of food I actually loved. Julian and Audrey both liked their food mild. I’d spent seven years eating bland meals for their sake, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d let myself sweat from a good, spicy meal.
I was plating the last dish when I heard the front door unlock.
Julian walked in with his arm around Audrey, both of them loaded down with shopping bags. He held out a box of strawberry tarts from Crescent Bakery, the fancy kind.
It happened to be the one thing he actually got right about me. Julian brought them every time he’d made me angry, and every time, they worked. One look at that box and whatever fight I had left would dissolve.
Not this time.
I nodded toward the dining table and carried the last dish out. Julian’s face tightened the second he saw the table — everything on it was red.
“Clara, are you serious right now? You know Audrey can’t handle spice.”
Audrey grabbed his sleeve. “Julian, I can handle it. Today’s about Clara.”
Just like that, all the fight drained out of him. He leaned in close to her, voice dropping low.
“Tell me if it’s too much.”
Audrey smiled and nodded.
They were practically sharing the same air. That’s when I noticed it — they were both wearing hearing aids on their right ears. Same brand. Matching cartoon stickers on each one.
My mind went straight to our seventh anniversary. I’d begged Julian to use matching couple profile pictures with me—little cartoon bunnies.
What did he say? Right. He said it was childish.
But there it was — a bunny, right on his hearing aid. Not childish anymore. Not when it was for her.
I ducked my head and pressed my fingers to the corners of my eyes before the tears could fall. When I looked up, I noticed a glass of water sitting beside Julian’s plate.
Every time he reached for something on the table, he dipped it in the water first — rinsing the spice off — then set it on Audrey’s plate like it was second nature.
The sting rushed back behind my eyes. I bit down hard on my lip, holding everything in place.
I sat down across from them. Out of nowhere, Julian served a spoonful of beef stew onto my plate.
I froze. He had never once served me anything.
The words left my mouth before I could think. “I can get my own.”
He didn’t look up. “Audrey’s stomach is sensitive from her post-surgery antibiotics. She can’t handle this heavy beef stew.”
“She’s not supposed to have spicy food either, so the fact that she’s trying, for your sake? You should be thanking her.”
Something slammed shut inside my chest.
Seven years. I had bent my life around the two of them for seven years, and nobody had ever thanked me once.
And now I was supposed to be grateful because Audrey sat through one spicy meal?
I threw my fork down on the table.
“If you’re so particular, make it yourself.”
