When silence speaks

I pulled into the driveway exhausted. Another long day of both work and fun had left me drained, and all I wanted was to unwind and relax. I stepped out of the car and loosened my tie, eager to get inside and finally relax. When I entered the house, I saw Rose seated there, staring at me with her usual blank look. I barely spared her a glance while heading straight to my study.

“I want a divorce,” Rose said before I could even reach the sanctuary of my study.

“Divorce? Ridiculous,” was the first thought that came to my mind. And ridiculous it was indeed. The family business of Rose's parents had been lent to the Dragon Group, which I owned. It was a contract that benefited both parties in every sense of the word. Rose was just a woman I’d married who depended on her parents and me for survival.

“Divorce, huh?” It was obviously her new way of crying for attention, like she was fond of doing. It used to be the pitiful demeanor she carried around her, which was enough to convince an outsider that she was being treated wrongly, even though that had never been the case. We had been keeping the married couple’s façade for four years already.

Now, she was pulling a new stunt, which I wasn't going to fall for.

The next morning, I entered the dining room to have breakfast before leaving, but all I saw was an empty table. I frowned and creased my brow as I asked one of the workers I was able to find lingering around,

“Where is she? And where is my food?”

“I have not seen her this morning, sir,” the worker replied. Later on, I got a report from eyes who had happened to see her leaving with her suitcase last night.

Most of her things were almost gone from her room.

“Oh, this perhaps has to do with the divorce thing she brought up. Did she expect me to fall for it or talk to her about it?”

I shrugged off the thought, grabbed my suitcase and jacket, and headed out.

She had probably just gone to her parents’ house. Where else could she go? They would surely knock some sense into her head about how to be a good wife and send her back.

My eyes darted up to the file in front of me as my assistant entered the office. Without a word, he placed a file on the table in front of me with a court bow.

“I think you need to see this, sir,” he said before stepping back.

I took off my glasses and pulled the file closer, flipping it open to find the emboldened words Divorce Proceedings. I frowned and continued to scan the papers. She had already signed them.

“Thank you. You may leave,” I said to my assistant, who bowed again before exiting the room.

Rose had taken the first step in what seemed like a smart game to her, but to me it was nonsense. Did she think I had the time for this?

Dragon Group was not only my pride and joy but also proof of years of hard work and dedication. It was a large private equity firm based in Europe that specialized in investing in a variety of sectors like consumer goods, services, fashion, medical, and technology. With over 350 investment projects under our belt, we were a force to be reckoned with in the business world.

It was our third round of fundraising. We needed to secure a staggering $5 billion from investors worldwide. This was a critical moment for my firm, and the next month was going to be a whirlwind of activities, with me having to crisscross the globe and meet with potential investors from New York to Tokyo, London to Dubai. The next six months for me were packed with meetings, presentations, and negotiations.

And here someone was bringing some useless paper to my table.

I angrily gathered all the papers and marched up to the shredder in the corner of my office, feeding them into it and watching the machine devour every single one of them before settling back down in my seat to focus on what was a hundred times more important.

I had been through three long months of hectic fundraising for Dragon Group. I finally got home to find that Rose still wasn't there. My nose was hit with a gust of stuffiness when I pushed the door to her bedroom open, and seeing everything completely covered in dust, I could tell that it had been left unoccupied for a long time.

She hadn't returned yet?

I angrily stormed out, picked up my phone, and dialed her number.

“Sorry, the number you are trying to call is no longer in use,” came the automated voice through the speaker.

I dialed again.

“Sorry, the number you are trying to—” I cut the call with a grit of my teeth.

“Find her immediately,” I turned to my assistant. “Get in touch with her parents—whatever you need to.”

The man bowed hurriedly and scurried off, while I retreated to my room, both tired and exhausted. She had already added more fuel to my already foul mood. I went into the shower, turned on the tap, let a torrent of cold water fall over my head, and wished all that iciness could take away all the fatigue and frustration I felt.

Eventually, my assistant returned with the news that Rose's parents also weren't aware of her whereabouts and hadn't heard from her for a long time.

Despite it all, I still felt that Rose's disappearance was part of her elaborate scheme to get to me, and it did seem to be working because it seriously got on my nerves.

I could only really take care of this after three months when I returned from my second trip. Before boarding the plane, I gave strict instructions to my assistant: “Find her before I return or you will lose your job.”

My assistant nodded at my words and hurried to assist with my suitcase. I paused and turned my head back because something on the table in the corner caught my eyes. When I moved closer, I saw it was the wedding ring—the ring that was initially meant for Anita but ended up on Rose's finger.

The ring had lost all significance to me since that day three years ago, which was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. My bride wasn't Anita, the woman I loved, but Rose, her sister. I felt like such a fool back then, standing in front of the congregation as if nothing was wrong. I just had to keep the show going, and I made it very clear to Rose that I wasn't going to accept her as my wife. She could keep the title for all she cared.

As soon as I had stepped down from the altar and worn that last round of fake smiles at the guests and photographers at every corner, I got into my car and took the damned ring off my finger. In fact, I couldn't remember where I had kept it after that day.

I probably flung it off in annoyance.

But Rose had decided to wear hers. Now that I saw that ring lying there in its own full circle of dust, I couldn't help thinking maybe Rose was serious about the divorce after all.

My jaw clenched briefly again before I turned from the table, leaving the useless relic there and walking out the door. I still had more work to do than to occupy myself with this drama.

I arrived at the airport, immediately putting on my sunglasses before stepping out of the car. I was quite popular, and a couple of people would often approach me, stare, or gawk because they recognized me from television or some other outlets.

“I'm sorry, are you so-and-so?” That kind of thing—the glasses were a minimal disguise, but they still did the job to an extent, with me adding some bizarre mysteriousness to my outfit. Sometimes I'd nod with a smile and try to keep the interactions brief. I was particularly not in the mood today.

I headed toward the boarding gate through the bustling airport crowd, checking my wristwatch at the same time, when a woman brushed past me. The trail of her perfume danced over my face and slowly into my nose. The citrus and flowery scent was insanely familiar. It almost made me feel nostalgic in a strange kind of way.

I stopped slowly in my tracks, trying to fight the urge, but I couldn't resist turning my head. Her figure was receding into the distance before me, and I couldn't tell if she was someone I knew.

I didn't even recall seeing that face before.