My Useless Mute Beta Wife Is A Big Shot!

The sweet cake smell fills the kitchen.

It’s everywhere—drifting through the air like a slow, lazy river of sugar and butter. Fresh coffee steams on the counter, bitter and warm, cutting through the sweetness before it becomes unbearable.

The two scents should fight each other, but they don’t. They dance. They weave together. They become something new.

I sit on the counter.

My legs dangle over the edge, swinging slightly from boredom more than intention. The marble beneath me is cold through my clothes.

Sum pulls another tray of fresh cakes from the oven. Heat rolls through the kitchen, carrying vanilla and something else—something that almost tastes like home.

Sum’s movements are clumsy and impatient, the movements of someone unused to waiting for anything. The tray slips dangerously in his grip before he catches it at the last second with a sharp breath.

Jane hovers beside him, patient as old stone. His hands reach out—not grabbing, not taking, just there. Ready to catch if Sum falls. Ready to guide if Sum asks.

"Sum, be careful." Jane tugs at the fabric of Sum’s gloves, pulling them higher. "The heat goes through. You’ll burn yourself."

Sum waves a hand—a careless, confident gesture, the kind that belongs to someone who has never learned the world bites back.

"Come on, Jane." He grins. "I’m a tough Alpha. Don’t worry."

Jane laughs. It’s a soft sound, almost shy, like a secret told in the dark. It doesn’t fill the room the way Sum’s voice does.

"Do you want to decorate them?"

Sum’s eyes light up. Sudden. Explosive. Like a match catching against stone.

"Really?"

Jane nods. "I’ll teach you."

"Okay!"

They turn back to the cakes, voices blending into the background, becoming part of the kitchen’s warm hum.

I sit alone on the counter, coffee cooling slowly in my hands. Watching.

My phone buzzes. I don’t move. I already know who it is.

Him.

It’s always him now, filling my phone with messages I never asked for, filling my mind with thoughts I never invited.

He’s probably asking where I am. What I’m eating. When I’m coming home.

He always asks.

Always.

I take my phone from my pocket. Calm. Slow. The way you pull a bandage when you’re afraid of the sting.

I look at the screen.

It’s not him.

I stare at it. The words blur—not from tears, not from anything as dramatic as tears, just from looking too long at something that doesn’t say what you hoped it would say.

He didn’t message me.

The thought arrives quietly, the way unwanted guests always do—without knocking, without warning.

Is he avoiding me? Because of last night?

My grip tightens around the phone—too tight, the edges digging into my palm.

Why the hell am I thinking about him?

And who cares if he exists or not?

I slip the phone back into my pocket.

I leave it there. I leave him there. In the dark. In my pocket. In the corner of my mind where I don’t have to look.

Sum looks at me.

A streak of cream smears across his cheek—a ridiculous, oddly endearing sight he would never survive me pointing out. His eyes are bright, too bright, the kind of brightness that comes from finding joy in something small and wanting to share it.

"Ellis..." He tilts his head, wiping cream from his hands. "Come on, help me. It’s kind of fun, making cake. You should try."

My face stays blank. Something else sits beneath it—something I don’t have words for. Something I don’t want to name.

"I’m not interested."

He stares at me. Longer than a glance. Shorter than a judgment. His mind hums softly beneath the surface, a murmur I don’t bother to fully catch.

But I catch enough.

{Seriously... he’s making me worried now. What’s wrong with him? Since this morning, his behavior isn’t like usual.}

I look away.

What the hell...

Does he really think I’m acting differently?

Sum smiles.

It’s bright—too bright—the kind of bright that costs something, that takes effort, that only appears after deciding you’re not going to let the sadness win today.

"Come on, you lazy kitten."

"No."

Sum sighs. Long. Theatrical. Practiced. The kind of sigh meant to make everyone around him feel guilty for disappointing him.

"You’re becoming such a boring person."

Alara steps into the kitchen.

Her gaze shifts to Sum, cream on his cheek, frosting on his nose. Then to me, cold and still on the counter. Then back to Sum.

She smiles—the kind of smile that knows things, that has seen things. "Are you two still fighting?"

Sum points at me. Flour flies from his apron, a white cloud drifting through the air like snow. "No. I’m just wondering what to do with this lazy kitten whose mood keeps swinging."

I don’t answer.

What’s the point?

Everything feels useless today.

Alara laughs softly. Not mocking. Not dismissive. Just warm, the way a fire is warm on a cold night.

She shakes her head and steps forward, leaning back against the counter beside me. Close enough to talk. Far enough to pretend she isn’t checking on me.

"Ellis..." She tilts her head, studying me like a book she’s reading for the second time, looking for what she missed the first. "Lazy Kitten. That nickname suits you."

I don’t look at her.

"So you’re teaming up with him?"

"No." She smiles—slow, easy, unhurried. "I’m just complimenting your new nickname."

Her gaze shifts to Sum and Jane.

They’re smiling. Talking. Decorating cakes together like they’ve forgotten the world exists outside this kitchen.

"They seem to be having fun, don’t you think?"

"Hmm."

Just enough to answer.

Alara looks at me. Really looks. The way people do when they’re about to say something important. "Ellis... are you really okay?" 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

Again. The same question Sum kept asking me since morning.

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

She looks back at Sum and Jane. Watches them for a moment—long enough to choose her words, long enough for the quiet to settle between us like a third presence in the room.

"I just noticed something."

Curiosity flickers across my face. Just a little. There and gone. I keep my gaze on the coffee cup in my hands.

Alara’s voice drops. Soft. Low. Meant only for me. "Something has changed in you."

I blink.

Something changed in me?

Her expression softens. Not into a smile.

Into something older.

"And don’t deny it."

A pause.

The kitchen hums around us—cakes cooling, coffee dripping, life moving forward without asking permission. Jane laughs at something Sum said. Sum pretends to be offended. The world keeps spinning.

"Sometimes," Alara says, "we have to let things happen. Controlling life too much only makes everything worse."

She straightens. Smooths her apron. Steps forward without looking back.

"Don’t push yourself."

I stare at her back as she walks toward Sum and Jane, joining their circle, laughing at something Sum says, reaching over to fix a crooked frosting rose with practiced ease.

Her words stay with me longer than I want them to.

Push myself?