Chapter 2
Chapter Two
The alarm blares at 3:45 a.m jolting me awake. I fumble for my phone, silencing it before it can wake Jeremy. He stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, his breathing steady and deep.
I slip out of bed, the cool air sending goosebumps up my legs. The house is dark and quiet as I make my way to the kitchen, guided by muscle memory more than sight.
As I prepare his lunch, my mind wanders to last night’s sketch. It wasn’t much, but it felt good to create something again.
I place his neatly packed lunch box on the counter and start the coffeemaker. The rich aroma fills the kitchen, a small comfort in the early morning darkness.
His footsteps in the hallway signal his approach. He enters the kitchen, eyes still heavy with sleep, and reaches for the coffeepot.
“Morning,” he mumbles, pouring himself a cup.
“Good morning, sleep well?”
He shrugs, taking a long sip of coffee. “Alright, I guess. You came to bed late.”
“Yeah, I was…” I hesitate, unsure whether to mention the drawing. “Just lost track of time.”
“I’m going to shower.”
I hear the bathroom door close and the shower start and move to lay out his clothes. As I place them on the bed, my gaze falls on the framed photo on his nightstand. It’s us on our honeymoon. I pick it up, studying our younger faces. We looked so happy, so full of hope for the future. When did that change? I shake my head, grabbing the clothes and bringing them into the bathroom, placing them onto the toilet seat.
“Your lunch is on the counter. I packed extra granola bars.”
“Thanks,” he says, pulling on his shirt. “I might be late tonight. We’ve got a big project coming up.”
“Oh, okay. Should I keep dinner warm for you?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t bother. I’ll grab something on the way home.”
He finishes dressing and grabs his lunch box from the counter. He gives me a quick peck on the cheek before heading out the door. “See you later,” he calls over his shoulder.
“Have a good day,” I call out, but the door swings shut with a thud, cutting me off. The house feels emptier than usual as I move through my morning routine. I straighten up the house, wrestling with a mountain of laundry, somehow finding the will to care for these everyday chores.
By mid-morning, I find myself back in the office, staring at last night’s sketch. I grab my phone and snap a picture, sending it to Lilly with the message:
Me
Drew this last night.
With a blank canvas before me, I gaze intently, holding my pencil above the page, like it’s holding its breath, waiting for the lines to take shape and bring the image to life under my hand. I’ve been sitting here for an hour, and still… nothing.
With a sigh, I lower my pencil and glance at the clock on my phone, 9:37 AM. Jeremy would have been at work for over two hours by now. Even after five months, I still catch myself thinking about his schedule, as if it matters anymore.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the memory of our life together. Focus, Alexis. This is your chance to create something new, something entirely yours.
But the white expanse of the canvas seems to mock me. I set down my pencil and canvas, making my way toward the kitchen.
I pour myself a cup of coffee, inhaling the rich brew. It’s one of the few pleasures I allow myself these days.
My phone buzzes, cutting through my thoughts. I glance at the screen and feel a small smile tug at my lips. Lilly.
“Hey, you,” I answer, grateful for the distraction.
“Please tell me you’re not still in your pajamas.” Her bubbly voice comes through the speaker.
I glance down at my paint-splattered sweatpants and oversized t-shirt. “I’m not still in my pajamas,” I lie, unable to keep the amusement out of my voice.
“Liar,” she laughs. “Come on, it’s a beautiful day outside. You can’t spend another one cooped up in that house.”
I bite my lip, glancing towards the window. The sunlight does look inviting. “I don’t know, Lil. I was trying to paint…”
“And how’s that going?” she asks knowingly.
I sigh. “Not great.”
“Then it’s settled. I’m picking you up. We’re going to Rosie’s in thirty minutes. No excuses.”
Before I can protest, she hangs up. I stare at my phone for a moment. She has been my lifeline these past few months, dragging me out of my shell when all I want to do is hide away.
I drink the last of my coffee and head to my bedroom to change. I catch sight of myself in the full-length mirror. The woman staring back at me looks tired, a little lost. Am I beautiful to him? Am I enough for him? Why am I not happy? What is wrong with me? I shake the thoughts and finish getting ready before taking a deep breath, squaring my shoulders.
“You’ve got this, Alexis,” I tell myself. “One day at a time.”