Ch. Mr.chatterbox for her, Mr.Icebox for me? Ice melts and so did my love. 1 Mr.chatterbox for her, Mr.Icebox for me? Ice melts and so did my love. 1

Chapter 1

I never shut up. My husband? Dude speaks in grunts.

“Yup.” “Cool.” “Whatever.” That’s his entire vocabulary.

Five years married. His lifetime word count wouldn’t fill one afternoon of MY talking.

Figured he was just wired that way—classic tech bro.

Then I’m scrolling Reddit: Drop a pic of your silent-type husband.

I post him coding. Dead-eyed, hoodie up.

Comments roll in. “Same.” “Mine too.” “Are they all clones?”

One stops me cold.

Wait—is that Mason Reed? From NexGen? Dude used to TALK. Smooth as hell. Him and Nora Ashford were the power couple before they imploded right before IPO.

My blood freezes.

My husband IS Mason Reed.

—

Comment after comment, ripping open a past he never mentioned.

Turns out he’s not quiet. He just goes mute around me.

That night Mason walks in, phone glued to his ear, words flying:

“Hold on hold on, just send me the file—I’ll book a flight right now, earliest one out—”

Takes a full hour before he hangs up.

“Babe, gotta head out for a bit. Friend’s company is tanking. Need to help out.”

My heart drops. “Nora?”

He freezes.

Never expected me to know her name—let alone say it to his face.

“Babe, listen—Nora and I are done. But she’s in serious trouble right now. Let me handle this and I’ll explain everything when I’m back, okay?”

Five years together. First time he’s ever bothered saying this much to me.

But I see right through it—he’s not trying to calm me down.

He’s building himself a bulletproof excuse to run straight to her.

I force out a bitter laugh. “Explain what?”

“The part where you chased her around campus? That big public proposal at the school gala with ninety-nine roses?”

“Or how you ditched grad school to start a company with her? Drank yourself into a bleeding ulcer closing deals for her—almost died?”

“Or maybe when she cheated on you, you still handed over half your shares just so she could walk away clean? While I got stuck in that crappy studio apartment watching you turn into a zombie?”

I’d scrolled through every damn comment. Seen their seven-year trainwreck laid out in full.

The old Mason—Nora’s Mason—was alive. Eyes bright, words electric.

That guy? Never met him.

I even had to propose to myself. His response? “Sure.”

Used to tell myself he was just naturally quiet. Introverted.

Bullshit.

“People talk more around someone they actually like”—turns out that’s not just some saying.

I just refused to admit I’ve been living in a fantasy.

Tears streaming down my face now.

He’s getting annoyed. “Babe, she’s my ex. I told you about her. You said it yourself—everyone’s got a past.”

But he left out that Nora completely rewired him.

Left out that she’s still pinned at the top of his social feeds. His browsing history? All her face.

Should I be touched by his devotion to her? Or crushed by how little he’s got left for me?

My past is locked away. Doesn’t bleed into today.

Him? Still hemorrhaging over Nora.

One phone call and he drops everything.

Two years ago when my dad died, Mason wouldn’t even take a day off.

Just said: “Project’s got a deadline.”

Ice cold.

I wipe my face and stare him down. “You walk out that door, we’re done.”

His face changes. He pulls me close fast. “Okay okay, I won’t go. I promise.”

Finally, I can breathe again.

That ultimatum was me gambling everything.

I needed to know: Was it her in his heart? Or me standing right here?

Hearing him choose me felt like coming back to life.

That peace didn’t even last the night.