My Insomniac Husband Sleeps Soundly With Her

My husband, Matt Miller, suffers from severe insomnia. He can't stand a little bit of noise while he's asleep. After six years of marriage, I've gotten used to the quiet. I don't watch TV after 9:00 pm. I don't make calls or eat. I even walk on tiptoes. Everything feels worth it when I see him sleeping soundly. Until one day, when I go to his office to deliver some documents, I realize the door isn't tightly shut. His secretary, Faye Davis, is sitting cross-legged on the carpet while eating potato chips. A variety show is playing loudly in the background. Meanwhile, Matt is asleep on the couch. Just as Faye reaches forward to turn down the volume, he raises his hand and strokes her hair, all the while keeping his eyes closed. "It's okay. I sleep better with the noise." I stand outside the door, recalling the bad cold I had last month. Afraid that my coughing would wake him up, I had buried my head into the pillow all night. The next day, he frowned and complained, "You were breathing so loudly last night. I couldn't sleep at all. Keep it down next time." Amid the crunching sounds of potato chips and Matt's steady breathing, I slowly step back. Turns out the cure to his insomnia isn't silence, but a woman. Only that woman isn't me. I guess I won't be bothering him at night anymore. Chapter 1 After leaving, I sat in the parking lot until 5:00 pm. It was then that I received a message. "What's taking so long with the draft proposal? Is this how you work? The project's on hold for now. We'll talk again once you get your act together." After six years of marriage, Matt Miller had grown increasingly indifferent toward me. To secure Miller Group's beauty project, I had put in twice as much effort as everyone else. Yet the moment we started working together, he would cut the budget at my slightest missteps, even going as far as putting the project on hold. He said it was strictly business and that he couldn't lower his standards even though we were a married couple. That morning, his secretary, Faye Davis, had posted on Instagram. Matt, donning a white shirt and black trousers, with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, was arranging bags of potato chips on the shelf. His handsome profile appeared softer in the light, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "Mr. Miller is restocking my supplies. He says eating as much as I want is basically my job." When I saw that post, my chest tightened. Matt was never much of a talker. Back in college, he was strict and impartial, a top student who hardly ever smiled. He would only be indulgent with me. The photos of him staying up late to help me with my thesis and the videos of him encouraging me to eat green peppers were still circulating on the school forum. I just didn't know when he had given that attention to someone else. My phone buzzed again. Matt had sent me another message. "Busy. Working overtime." Before I could even reply, I suddenly saw them. Faye was walking backward, laughing and clapping. Her ponytail kept swinging left and right. Matt followed unhurriedly with a slight smile, his gaze fixed on her. I watched them for a long while before lowering my head. It seemed that I was no longer the woman who could make him smile. At 11:00 pm, I was still awake when he came home. A variety show was playing on TV, and the laughter made him frown. "Yelena, it's too loud." I didn't answer. I simply grabbed a handful of chips and shoved them into my mouth. His frown deepened. "The project is on hold because you didn't submit the draft on time. Don't use this as an excuse to get back at me." Still munching the chips, I looked up at him. "You made me revise my draft eight times. It doesn't matter when I submit it." "This project belongs to my company. Is it unreasonable to ask my business partner to revise the draft?" "No, but asking me to revise it without even looking at it is." Matt's face clouded over. The noise from the TV and the sound of me crunching on chips made his body stiffen. "Yelena, turn off the TV. Also, you're eating chips on the floor. There are crumbs all over the carpet." I crushed the chips in my hand. The memory of Faye eating chips on the carpet while watching a variety show in the morning flashed in my mind. He picked up the remote and switched off the TV, using the same hand that had touched her hair. The living room fell silent. He was about to return to the room when the crunching of chips beneath his feet made him stop. The next second, he turned and walked out. "It's too noisy. I'll sleep at the office tonight." Chapter 2 Matt quickly left, changing his shoes and closing the door in one swift motion. My reflection appeared on the black screen of the TV. I remained silent as I threw the remaining chips into the trash. After midnight, Faye posted a new update on Instagram. "Mr. Miller took me to karaoke. But does my singing really put people to sleep?" In the video, the lighting was dim. She was singing into the camera. Her voice through the microphone was deafening. Startled the moment I clicked into the video, I quickly muted my phone. Then she flipped the camera, showing Matt asleep on the couch. At home, he wouldn't even let me move an inch of his pillow. Any little change would keep him awake. However, even with the loud karaoke on, he had dozed off right then. He was resting his head on his arm, one of his legs hanging from the couch. Not even Faye's singing could wake him up. I realized at that moment that he could tolerate noise, after all. He just couldn't stand my voice. I pitied myself. But having been silent for six years, I found myself unable to utter a single word. Sleep eluded me all night. At the first light of dawn, I contacted housekeeping to remove all the carpets in the house. The agent asked in surprise, "Didn't you say your husband had trouble sleeping, and the carpets helped reduce noise?" I hummed in reply and said, "We're getting divorced. That has nothing to do with me now." That night, when Matt came home, he stopped before his feet could touch the floor. "What happened to the carpets?" "I removed them." "Oh." He gave a curt reply, then walked inside. "Get thicker ones. The old carpets were too thin. You could still hear footsteps." Since I was busy working in the living room, I replied without looking up, "I don't plan to get any new ones." His eyelids twitched slightly. While loosening his tie, he noticed the automotive project proposal on my laptop. His voice laced with irritation, he said, "So it's still about the collaboration. I told you this concerns the launch of our new beauty brand. I have to be responsible for the company." I nodded. "I get it. That's why I've decided to end our collaboration and find a new project. I have to be responsible for my company as well. I can't waste time on a project that will never succeed." Matt pursed his lips, his face dark. "Yelena, this is official work, not some kindergarten art project. You can't just end it because you want to." I stared at his face, remembering the short videos I had come across on Faye's account that afternoon. "Mr. Miller is such an awesome boss. He cuts me fruits and orders me coffee during working hours. He even set me up with a membership account just because I mentioned wanting to watch some dramas. On top of that, he sneaks me candy during meetings, too. He totally spoils me." The comments left beneath the videos were filled with envy. "They say if you love your girlfriend, you should spoil them like a child. Your boss sure knows what he's doing." A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down. "Back at you, Mr. Miller. We've been working on this project for six months, and you just put it on hold." The tie around Matt's neck was a crumpled mess. He looked away and said, "Yelena, we're adults. Grow up. I looked at your draft proposal. The first version was alright. We'll talk more at my office tomorrow." Having said that, he turned to leave. "You make a lot of noise without the carpets. I'll stay at the office for a few days," he added. "I'll come back once you get thicker ones." I hadn't even stood up. He left again, anyway. The next morning, I brought my team to the meeting. To show fairness, he didn't comment at all, nor did he participate in the voting. Half an hour later, the first draft was approved unanimously. My colleagues were so excited that they insisted on a celebration dinner. I was forced to join them. In the private room, Faye was seated next to Matt. When someone approached her with a glass of wine, he stopped her before she could raise hers. "She can't drink." Faye blushed in embarrassment, hiding behind him with a smile. The employees around her teased, "Mr. Miller truly has changed a lot since Faye joined us." Chapter 3 "He used to be so cold that people felt nervous around him. Now he finally seems more human." Matt didn't respond, but he didn't deny it either. He asked the waiter for a glass of water and handed it to Faye. "You're on your period. Have some water instead." Last Christmas, his mother had given me a hard time because I still hadn't gotten pregnant. At that time, I was also on my period while I was out in the snow doing laundry in the yard. I had to get a jab for the cramps after that. In my daze, I complained to him. He gave me a cold look and said, "It's your fault for not taking care of your own body." I clenched my fists under the table, the pain in my chest nearly drowning me. As the commotion died down, Faye suddenly came over. With a bright and innocent smile and sparkling eyes, she greeted, "Ms. Vance, I'm Mr. Miller's secretary. Here's to you." She poured me a glass of white wine while holding her glass of water. I shook my head. "Sorry, I can't drink." Faye's smile froze. Matt, having watched us the entire time, said in a low voice, "Yelena, don't make things awkward for her." I looked at him, the warning in his eyes palpable. With my fingernails dug into my flesh, I whispered, "Don't you remember what the doctor said? We're trying for a baby. We can't drink." At that moment, silence engulfed the entire room. Faye truly had beautiful eyes. They lit up when she smiled and turned red when she cried. "I'm sorry, Ms. Vance. I… I didn't know you and Mr. Miller were… I'll drink! Consider it my apology." Looking as if she had suffered the greatest injustice, she lifted the glass of white wine and was about to down it in one shot. I raised my hand to stop her and tilted my chin toward Matt. "He drank over ten glasses on your behalf. Don't waste his effort." Faye's tears fell even more aggressively. Matt furrowed his brows and quickly walked over. "I told you, you don't need to drink," he said softly. "Put it down." Everyone in the room remained silent, their eyes darting between Matt and me. Eventually, their gaze fell on the crying woman. I had no idea why she was crying. If anything, I should have been the one crying. Just as Matt was about to touch her shoulder, she wiped her tears and ran out. He shot me a look before going after her. And so, the dinner ended on an awkward note. While I quietly went to pay the bill, I overheard the employees of Miller Group murmuring among themselves. "Are Mr. Miller and Ms. Vance really married? Then why does he keep delaying our collaboration? He's rejected several drafts." "I heard their marriage is for business purposes. Where's the love in that? It's obvious Mr. Miller likes Faye more." On the drive home, I kept thinking about the four years we had together before we got married. He was the one who pursued me, spoiled me, and protected me for four years. After graduating from college, we broke up for a year due to our parents' disapproval of our relationship. A year later, he was the one who found me and proposed to me unreservedly. If that wasn't love, I didn't know what was. At 11:00 pm, Matt came back. His heavy footsteps echoed on the floor, and his voice was cold. "You shouldn't have said that. Now everyone's talking about Faye and me. This is going to affect the company, and she cried all night. Just clarify the facts tomorrow and say you misspoke." I had been waiting for him to come home to talk about our divorce. Little did I expect him to point fingers at me the moment he walked in. I looked up. "Matt, is having me as your wife that embarrassing?" "I'm talking about the clarification." "And what do you want me to say? That we're not married or that our marriage is solely for business purposes?" He grew impatient. "I'm talking about serious matters here." I looked him in the eye and responded, "Well, so am I." A pause later, I asked, "Do you even love me?" He furrowed his brow, though something flickered across his eyes momentarily. "Yelena, calm down." Chapter 4 ”I am calm. I just don't get it. You can't even stand the sound of my breathing. Yet you can sleep so peacefully no matter what Faye does. Do you even see me as your wife?" I tried to stay calm, but Matt suddenly met my eyes. There was a strange vibe of hatred in his tone. "You're having trouble sleeping too, no? You slept so calmly on Eric's bed, but you can't sleep with me. You never loved me, Yelena. So why should I treat you as my wife?" My temples throbbed. After we broke up, my family had arranged for me to go on a blind date, and that man was Eric Bale. To keep our parents happy, we dated briefly for a month. We only broke up upon realizing we weren't a good match. Right after that, Matt pursued me again and insisted on marrying me regardless of what our families said. Not wanting him to misunderstand, I told him about Eric long ago. "Matt, you said you didn't mind," I reminded him. "Besides, nothing ever happened between—" "I'm a man. Of course I mind," Matt interrupted, his voice icy cold. "To be honest, the thought of you sleeping with another man makes me sick. It disgusts me so much that I can't sleep. Just like how you don't love me, but you married me anyway and have to take sleeping pills every day because of it." He pointed at the drawer where I kept my sleeping pills. I didn't expect him to find out. I always took them quietly, afraid of disturbing him. It turned out that was the reason for his insomnia. He thought I was disgusting. I had fought with my family for him, given up half my inheritance, and started a company on my own. Yet at that moment, they all felt like a joke. Silence hung in the house for a long time until his phone rang. He picked it up, his voice gentle. "You're still awake? Stop crying. I'll be there soon. Okay, I'll bring you something yummy." He hung up the phone, the air around him growing colder. "If you want the project to succeed, clarify that we're just business partners tomorrow," he continued. "Faye is still young. She's sensitive. I don't want her to feel upset." I lowered my head, pulled out the divorce papers, and handed them to him. Without even looking at them, he stepped back. He hated me so much and found me so repulsive that he didn't even want to touch my fingers. "Once things settle down, we'll move into a house with better soundproofing and lay thick carpets everywhere. I don't want to talk about the past anymore, Yelena. Our families have somehow accepted our marriage, so let's just live like this for the rest of our lives," he added while walking out. I simply watched him leave without saying anything. I had seen his back so many times over the past few days that I had lost count. When we were dating, he could never hang up first. After a date, he would wait until I had entered my dorm before turning away. However, at that moment, with Faye in the picture, we were nothing more than business partners. I stood quietly in the living room for a long time. Then my assistant called, asking about the beauty project. "Ms. Vance, we've been working on this project for six months. Do you really want to end it?" "Yeah, go ahead and proceed with the termination paperwork." I placed the divorce papers on the table, then returned to the bedroom to retrieve my packed suitcase. "But you were so confident about Miller Group's new beauty brand. You said Mr. Miller had started working on it when you were still dating…" My assistant was the only one who knew about our relationship. She sighed regretfully. I pushed my suitcase toward the front door, my footsteps echoing across the floor with every step I took. After six years of marriage, I could finally walk freely. "Back then, he named the brand after me, Yelenaissance." Hearing that, my assistant drew in a sharp breath. The name of the project we had been working on had been changed to Fayemous. Upon hanging up the phone, I walked into the elevator without looking back. I swore I would never disgust Matt and disturb him ever again. I hoped he could finally have sweet dreams.