My Useless Mute Beta Wife Is A Big Shot!

The passenger seat feels unfamiliar today, even though I’ve sat in it a hundred times before. The leather is soft beneath my fingers, smooth and immaculate. But something about it feels foreign this morning.

Everything feels different.

My face is blank. Not the careful blankness I wear during meetings with Dad’s friends I never wanted to attend, or at family dinners—the mask I’ve perfected over years of pretending.

Something deeper. Something hollowed out from the inside.

Today, my mood is ruined.

And I don’t know why.

I don’t like anything anymore.

Not the cold morning. Not the city still wet from last night’s rain and dew. Not even sitting here beside Sum, watching the streets pass by while this strange irritation twists tighter and tighter inside my chest. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

I don’t know what to do with myself.

It’s fucking annoying.

Sum’s eyes stay on the road, but I can feel him watching me from the corner of his vision. He drives with one hand on the wheel, relaxed in the effortless way only Sum can be. Calm. Comfortable.

His posture is loose, practiced—like someone who has spent years driving through these streets, through the maze of my moods.

His voice is light when he speaks. Teasing. The voice he uses when he thinks I’m sinking too far into my own head again.

"What are you thinking, Mr. Charming?"

I don’t look at him. My gaze stays fixed outside the window, on the passing streets, the pale blue sky rushing by in fragments too fast to hold. Trees blur into green smudges, their leaves catching the morning light in brief flashes before disappearing behind us. Buildings rise and fall like breathing—glass and steel and stone, all of it indifferent to the small lives moving through it.

"Nothing."

The word falls flat. Empty. A door closing before anyone can step through.

Sum sighs—long, dramatic, the kind of sigh he’s perfected over years of dealing with me. It fills the car, warm and familiar, like an old joke between us.

"Ellis..." He draws my name out, rolling it across his tongue. "Can you please tell me what’s happening to you? You’ve been silent since we got in the car."

He pauses, glancing at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road. "And you haven’t even told me where you want to go."

"I don’t know." My voice sounds distant, even to my own ears. "Just somewhere peaceful."

Sum raises an eyebrow. I catch it in my peripheral vision—that familiar look he wears whenever he’s about to say something I don’t want to hear. He’s worn it since we were children.

Since the first time I told him I could hear people’s thoughts, and he asked me what he was thinking.

I told him:

You’re wondering if I’m lying. But you still want to believe me because you want to be my friend.

His face had gone pale as milk.

"Isn’t your house your most peaceful place?" He taps his fingers lightly against the steering wheel, an absent rhythm filling the quiet between us. "Then why do you suddenly want to go somewhere else?"

His gaze stays on the road, but a smirk spreads across his lips. Slow. Deliberate. Like he’s savoring a joke he hasn’t told yet, letting it ripen on his tongue.

"Or..." He drags the word out, letting it hang between us like smoke. "You don’t want to stay there because of your wifey?"

I shift my gaze to him. Sharp.

"Sum." My voice is low, almost quiet—which is worse than shouting, and he knows it. We’ve been friends long enough for him to understand that my quiet is where the danger lives. "Are you testing my patience?"

He raises one hand in surrender—palm out, fingers spread, eyes wide with mock innocence. The gesture is theatrical, the kind of performance he’s been perfecting since we were boys.

"No, no, Mr. Charming." His voice drips with exaggerated innocence. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

I look away. Cross my arms over my chest. The leather seat shifts slightly beneath me, a small protest against my restlessness.

I came out to calm myself. And he’s just pissing me off more.

Sum glances at me again—shorter this time, quicker, like he’s measuring how far he can push before I break. He’s always been good at that. Walking the edge of my temper. Testing the fences I’ve built.

"Come on, Ellis." His voice softens, just a fraction. The teasing drains away, replaced by something almost gentle. "I’m just saying..." He pauses briefly, like he’s trying to phrase it carefully. "Don’t you think Silas is sweet? And too innocent?"

I don’t answer. My unimpressed gaze says everything—the flat line of my mouth, the stillness of my body, the wall I’ve built between us brick by brick.

He keeps his eyes on the road, but his shoulders relax. He’s settling into the space between us now—the space where he says things I don’t want to hear and I pretend not to listen. It’s an old rhythm, worn smooth by years of friendship.

"I mean..." He gestures vaguely with one hand before returning it to the wheel. "Living with him, I don’t think it’s such a bad thing. And you can’t hear his mind. No noise." He pauses briefly. "He seems like such a calm, cute person. So I don’t think you’d have any problem living with him."

My voice comes out low. Flat. Quiet enough to sound dangerous. "What are you trying to say, Sum?"

His brows twist—not in frustration, but in something more serious. The last traces of teasing drain from his face, replaced by something almost earnest. Almost sincere. Almost careful. Like he’s handling glass.

"I’m just saying..." He pauses, choosing his words carefully, like each one costs him something. "You should try to get to know him. Maybe he’s the life partner destiny chose for you."

"Shut up and focus on driving."

Sum’s face shifts—wounded, dramatic, the expression of a man who has been personally betrayed by his best friend. He clutches his chest like I’ve stabbed him, his mouth falling open in outrage.

"Ellisss..." He draws my name out into three syllables, each one dripping with offense. "You’re so heartless. Treating your best friend like a driver."

He shakes his head slowly, mournfully. "You called me—you called me—and you wouldn’t even let me come inside your house to greet cute Silas." A deep sigh leaves him. "And now you’re shutting me up?"

"Because you’re spitting nonsense." I pause. The word comes out before I can stop it, slipping past my guard like a traitor. "And Silas wasn’t home."

Sum’s head turns toward me so fast I’m surprised his neck doesn’t crack. His eyes widen, bright with sudden interest.

"Oh?" His eyebrow shoots up toward his hairline. "Then where is he?"

"He had something urgent to handle." My voice is flat, careful—each word measured, weighed, approved before it leaves my mouth. "He left early. Suddenly."

Sum stares at me for a heartbeat. Two. His lips part slightly, and I can feel the realization dawning on his face like sunrise.

Then—

He starts laughing.

Not a polite chuckle. Not a quiet smile. A full, open laugh that fills the car, bounces off the windows, echoes in the small space between us. His hand slaps against the steering wheel—thump, thump, thump—like he’s just heard the funniest joke in the world.

"So that’s the reason."

I don’t look at him.

I think he’s losing his mind.

He grins—wide, bright, knowing. The grin of someone who’s just found the missing piece of a puzzle.

"So this is why Mr. Charming’s mood is ruined." He wiggles his eyebrows, teasing, merciless. "Because his wife isn’t home. He didn’t get to see his wifey’s face this morning."

"That’s why you’ve been so irritated all morning."

My face breaks. Just a little. A crack in the armor, small but visible.

My mood is ruined because I didn’t see him this morning...?