He’d get random ones in the middle of his workday asking, “We’re okay, right?” even though they’d had a perfectly normal breakfast together that morning. Or, “You still love me?” after a night where they’d laughed and watched movies like always.
He didn’t understand where these questions were coming from.
Then came the secrets, and that’s when Daniel’s chest started tightening with dread.
Emma started keeping her phone face down on every surface.
She’d jump when he walked into a room, like he’d caught her doing something wrong. She seemed annoyed with him all the time, snapping at him for things that had never bothered her before, but she couldn’t explain why she was upset.
She’d disappear into their bedroom for an hour or more, and when she finally came out, her eyes would be red and swollen.
“Just tired,” she’d say, avoiding his gaze. But she didn’t look tired.
She looked destroyed.
Eventually, their social life vanished. Emma started canceling plans with their friends, claiming headaches or stomach problems. But then Daniel would wake up at 2 a.m. to find her pacing the living room in the dark, wide awake, her breathing shallow and quick.
The fights started becoming routine, erupting over nothing and ending with both of them sleeping as far apart as possible in their bed.
