Loud Silence

Evelyn’s POV

The morning was quiet.

Too quiet.

The kind of quiet that feels heavy in your chest. Like the silence is screaming all the things

you’re not allowed to say.

I stood by the doorframe, watching my son, Liam, frown as he sat on the edge of the bed.

His socks were halfway on. His school bag leaned against the wall. His uniform was a little

wrinkled. I had ironed it the night before, just like I always did.

I took a small step forward. “Do you want me to fix your tie?”

He didn’t answer.

I walked closer, kneeling in front of him. My knees hurt these days, but I didn’t care. “Liam,” I

said again, my voice soft, “Would you like me to make your favorite lunch today? I could bring it

to school at break time. The j rice with the diced meat. Remember how much you used to love

it?”

He looked up at me with the coldest eyes I’ve ever seen on a child.

“No.”

Just one word.

But it shattered something inside me.

“No?” I asked, trying to keep smiling.

He stood up and pulled the tie out of my hand. “Don’t bring anything. I don’t want anyone to

know you’re my mum.”

My heart stopped.

“I don’t want people laughing at me,” he continued, straightening his own collar. “You’re not

pretty. You have that ugly scar on your face. You’re fat. People will make fun of me.”

I stood there, frozen. Still kneeling on the floor like a servant.

My lips parted. “Liam

Why did Dad even marry you?” he asked without blinking. “You’re not like Ivy. She’s beautiful.

She smells nice. You… you just look like the maid.”

I wanted to cry.

But nothing came out.

I couldn’t cry. Not in front of him.

I swallowed the pain like a stone, forcing myself to stand slowly.

That was when Jason walked in, holding his briefcase.

He looked at me like I was something stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

“Why are you still here?” he asked.

I turned to him. “I was just—”

“I heard everything,” he said flatly. “Stop forcing yourself on him. Can’t you see you’re making

him uncomfortable?”

I flinched.

He used to speak to strangers with more kindness than that.

“Jason, I was just—” I tried again.

He stepped past me, brushing my shoulder, not even stopping. “He said no, Evelyn. Respect

that.”

Respect what?

That my own son didn’t want to be seen with me?

That he wished I didn’t exist?

That he preferred another woman who was never there when he was sick? Who never gave

birth to him?

Jason had always been like this.

Cold.

Distant.

Especially after the accident.

He never looked at me the same after the scar. He stopped touching me. Stopped holding me.

Stopped saying my name with warmth.

I tried to hold it together. I took a deep breath.

“Do you want your coffee, sweetheart?” I asked Liam gently, hoping I could still do something

right.

He looked at me with disgust. “No. I want the maid to bring it. I don’t want yours.”

I stared at him.

He didn’t know I was the one who made it every morning.

That I woke up before dawn to grind the beans the way he liked it. To make it sweet, but not too

sweet. With just enough milk.

The “maid” just served it.

But I made it.

If they knew, they’d probably stop drinking it altogether.

Liam turned to his father. “When are you going to divorce her?”

The room went quiet.

My ears rang.

“I don’t want people to see us together,” he said plainly. “She’s fat. She has a scar. She’s

embarrassing.”

I felt something in my chest break completely.

Jason didn’t say a word.

He didn’t correct him.

He didn’t scold him.

He didn’t defend me.

Just silence.

The same silence he’s given me for years.

I walked out of the room slowly.

Carefully.

Like I was afraid my steps would crack the floor.

I entered the kitchen and leaned against the counter, gripping it tightly. The walls around me

began to blur.

And I cried.

Whispering.

I pressed my hand to my lips so nobody could hear.

I cried for the woman I'd once been.

For the mother I'd hoped to be.

For the marriage that had long been dead, though I'd never realized it.

I recalled that rainy afternoon. The automobile. Tires squealing. The stance Liam had been

taking in the middle of the road.

I'd screamed his name.

Run like a lunatic.

Pinned him out of the way and taken the weight myself.

I can still remember the pain.

Still feel it on rainy nights, some of them.

That scar saved his life.

And the weight on my body? Came afterwards, after I gave one of my kidneys to Jason.

He was going to die. Did not hesitate.

Would have done it again.

Even now.

Even after all of it.

But none of that matters anymore, does it?

Not when you are no longer beautiful.

Not when the people you've saved criticize you with shame.

I washed my face.

Put on a bit of lipstick, even though my lips still trembled.

And I went to work.

Because even when your world is falling apart.

You're still supposed to keep moving.

Even when no one's looking.

Even when your own son wants you to be someone else