Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
I pull my phone from my pocket, checking it again for any sign of a message. Nothing. My fingers hover over the screen as I debate sending another text. He’s late. Maybe he got held up with a power line. But it’s been over an hour now.
I glance at the clock, then at the table, where two plates sit ready, food steaming and untouched. The sound of the oven timer ticking echoes in the quiet, making the room feel more empty than it should.
I’ve been looking forward to tonight all week, planning every detail down to the wine I knew Jeremy liked—something light, something that wouldn’t feel heavy after a long day at work.
I walk over to the table, adjusting the napkins out of habit, trying to shake off the creeping frustration. We used to do this all the time, quiet nights at home, just the two of us, talking about anything and everything. But now, moments like these feel rare.
The door creaks open, and I hear his keys hit the counter. My heart jumps, and I turn, ready with a smile. But it falters when I see him.
He looks exhausted. Dark circles hang under his eyes, and his shoulders slump as he shrugs off his coat, tossing it carelessly onto a chair. “Hey,” he mutters, rubbing his face as he walks into the kitchen.
“Hey,” I whisper, trying to keep my voice steady. “I was starting to wonder if you were coming home.”
He looks at the table, his eyes flicking over the candles and the plates. No Smile. No raised brow. No reaction what-so-ever. “Sorry,” he says, “I’m not really hungry. I had to grab something quick right before fixing a power line.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, nodding even though my throat feels tight. I spent hours preparing dinner, hoping it might be a chance for us to reconnect, but now it feels like all that effort was for nothing. “It’s fine,” I say, though it isn’t.
He sighs while running a hand through his hair. “I’m just… I’m exhausted, Lex. Work’s been a nightmare lately.”
“I get it.” I reply, though the words taste bitter.
He doesn’t respond, just sinks into the chair like he’s carrying the weight of the world. I sit across from him, the candles flickering between us. I want to reach out, to hold his hand, to tell him that I’m here, that we can figure this out together. But there’s this invisible wall between us and I don’t know how to break through it.
“So… how was your day?” I ask, trying to sound casual, as if tonight wasn’t supposed to be special.
He shrugs, his eyes on the floor. “Long. Stressful. The usual.”
I nod, watching him, waiting for him to say more. But the silence stretches out, heavy and uncomfortable, until I can’t take it anymore.
“I just thought… Maybe tonight we could spend some time together,” I say, my voice soft. “Like we used to.”
He looks up, “I know. I don’t have it in me tonight.”
The disappointment hits me hard, like a punch to the gut. But I swallow it down, forcing a smile. “It’s okay,” I say, though it’s not. “Maybe another time.”
Jeremy stands, stretching his arms over his head. “Yeah. Another time.”
As he walks toward the bedroom, I sit there, staring at the untouched food.
I blow out the candles and start clearing the table, forcing my tears back. I’ve been trying so hard to be patient, to be understanding, but it feels like every time I reach out, he pulls further away.
When I finish, I follow him into the bedroom, the tension still sitting heavy in my chest. He’s already lying in bed, scrolling through his phone like nothing happened. The sight of him there, so distant even when we’re just feet apart, makes my heart sink. I slip under the covers beside him, careful not to disturb his quiet bubble of exhaustion, but the silence between us feels unbearable.
For a moment, I think about just turning over and going to sleep, burying the questions swirling in my head. But I can’t. Not tonight.
“Jeremy?” I ask softly, not looking at him. My fingers twist in the blanket, bracing for whatever comes next. “Is there… someone else?”
The words hang in the air like a loaded gun, the silence stretching out until I finally turn my head to look at him.
He frowns, lowering his phone as he processes what I just asked. “What? No. Why would you even think that?” His voice isn’t angry, just confused, but it still makes me feel small.
I bite my lip, hating that I even asked, but I can’t help it. “You’ve been so distant, and I don’t know… I guess I just…”
He sighs, setting his phone down on the nightstand and turning toward me. His eyes soften, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, I see the man I know—my Jeremy. “Baby, there’s no one else. I promise. It’s just work. I’m exhausted all the time, but it’s nothing to do with you.”
I want to believe him, and maybe that’s enough for now. I nod, blinking back the sting in my eyes. “It just feels like you’re slipping away from me.”
He shifts closer, his hand reaching out to touch my cheek, gently brushing away the tear that’s forming. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you feel like that.”
The warmth of his hand against my skin makes my chest tighten. But this time it’s not from frustration—it’s from hope. Maybe things aren’t as far gone as I thought. Maybe we’re not as broken as we feel.
He pulls me closer, wrapping his arm around me, and for the first time in weeks, I let myself lean into him, letting the steady beat of his heart calm my own racing thoughts. I close my eyes, feeling the weight of his arms around me.
“I love you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible against his chest. I’m not sure if he hears me at first, but then he presses a kiss to the top of my head, his lips lingering just a little longer than usual.
“I love you too,” he murmurs. “I know I haven’t been showing it, but I do.”
We stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the silence between us feels comfortable. The exhaustion is still there; the problems aren’t magically solved, but for now, this is enough.
Maybe tomorrow will be different. Maybe it won’t. But at least for tonight, I can breathe.
It’s Sunday afternoon, and for once, the house doesn’t feel empty. Jeremy sits beside me on the couch, his presence both comforting and nerve-wracking.
“I know work’s been crazy for you, but I miss us. What if we made a plan? On days you’re home by seven, we could have dinner together, talk a bit before bed?”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I can almost see the gears turning in his head. “That could work,” he says slowly. “And on weekends, when I’m not working, we could do something together? I know I’ve been on the game a lot…”
A small spark of hope ignites in my chest. “Really? That would be great.”
He nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, I’d like that. I know things have been… off lately.”
I reach out, taking his hand in mine. It feels warm, familiar. “I just want us to be us again,” I say softly.
He squeezes my hand, and for the first time in weeks, I feel like we’re on the same page. “Me too, Lex. Me too.”
We spend the rest of the afternoon on the couch, scrolling through tv for something to watch. It feels almost normal, and my shoulders don’t feel so tense.
“Oh, how about this one?” I say, pointing to a cheesy rom-com.
He groans playfully. “Really? You know I can’t stand those.”
I stick my tongue out at him. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I promise I won’t make you watch another one for at least a month.”
He raises an eyebrow. “A whole month? I doubt it.”
I roll my eyes, letting out a laugh.
As the movie starts, I snuggle closer to him, relishing the feeling of his arm around me. It’s been so long since we’ve done this, just existing together without the weight of the world on us.
Halfway through the movie, he shifts beside me.
“Hey, I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick,”
I nod, pausing the movie. “Want me to wait for you?”
“Nah, go ahead. I might be awhile. Stomach’s been acting up again.”
As he disappears down the hall, I can’t help but worry. He’s been complaining about stomach issues for weeks now, but he keeps brushing off my suggestions to see a doctor. Maybe it’s time I take matters into my own hands. I make a mental note to look up some healthier recipes. A change in our diet might help, and honestly, it couldn’t hurt either of us.
The minutes tick by, and I glance at the clock more frequently. He’s been in the bathroom for almost an hour now. I try to focus on the movie, but my mind keeps wandering, worry gnawing at the edges of my thoughts.
Just as I’m about to get up and check on him, I hear the bathroom door open. Jeremy shuffles back into the living room, looking a bit pale but offering a weak smile.
“Sorry about that,” he mumbles, sinking back onto the couch beside me. “Told you it might be awhile.”
I bite my lip, debating whether to push the issue. “Are you sure you don’t want to see a doctor? This has been going on for weeks now.”
He shakes his head, waving off my concern. “It’s fine, Lex. Probably just stress or something I ate. It’ll pass.”
I’m not convinced, but I let it go for now. We’ve made progress today, and I don’t want to ruin it by nagging. Instead, I lean into him, breathing in his familiar scent. “If you’re sure,”
We finish the movie in comfortable silence, and as the credits roll, I realize how late it’s gotten. The sky outside has darkened, and a quick glance at my phone shows its past 9 PM.
“We should probably think about dinner,” I say, stretching as I stand up.
He yawns, looking more relaxed than he has in days. “Actually, I’m not really hungry. That stomach thing, you know?”
I nod, understanding. “How about we just call it a night then? We can curl up in bed?”
He smiles, and it reaches his eyes this time. “That sounds perfect.”
We make our way to the bedroom, the routine of getting ready for bed feeling both familiar and somehow new. As I slip under the covers, he wraps an arm around me, pulling me close.
“This was nice,” he whispers into my hair. “I’ve missed this. Missed you.”
I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them back. “I’ve missed you too,” I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper.
We lay there in the darkness, the sound of our breathing the only noise in the room. I can feel his heartbeat against my back, steady and reassuring. For the first time in weeks, maybe even months, I feel truly at peace.
As I drift off, I can’t help but think about the day. We’re talking again, really talking, and spending time together which is what we need.
Maybe from here, things will get better. We’ll stick to our new plan, make time for each other, and slowly rebuild what we’ve lost. It won’t be easy, I know that. There will be setbacks and arguments, days when it feels like we’re right back where we started. But today has given me hope.
I snuggle closer to him, feeling his arm tighten around me in response.