Chapter 12
Corine
I sat on the plush rug in the living room, my legs crossed as Kyle clumsily stacked his colorful building blocks.
His small hands trembled slightly with excitement as he successfully placed another piece on top.
His laughter, bright and innocent, echoed through the room, filling the space with warmth.
My mother sat on the couch, knitting, her eyes lifting from time to time to watch her grandson with a fond smile.
She had been here for two years now, refusing to leave even when my father went back home.
I was grateful for her presence. I don’t think I would have made it through the darkness without her.
She had been my anchor, my reminder of who I was before everything spiraled out of control. But even as I sat here, surrounded by love, an unsettling feeling gnawed at the edges of my mind, persistent and unrelenting.
I sighed, leaning back against the couch, my fingers absentmindedly tracing the fabric of Kyle’s onesie. “Mom?” My voice wavered slightly.
She looked up, setting her knitting needles down. “Yes, sweetheart?”
I hesitated, biting my lower lip before finally voicing the thoughts that had been suffocating me for weeks. “Do you think Allen still loves me?”
My mother’s brows furrowed, the gentle expression in her eyes shifting to concern. “Why would you ask that?”
I swallowed hard. “He’s… different. Distant. It’s like he’s here, but he’s not really here. He doesn’t talk to me as much.
He barely answers his phone in front of me. He used to be so involved in everything I did—helping me shoot content, supporting me during photoshoots.
Now, it’s like he doesn’t even remember I exist.” My voice cracked, and I quickly lowered my head, blinking away the tears threatening to spill. “Mom, I feel like I’m losing him.”
She reached for my hand, squeezing it tightly. “Oh, honey…”
“I thought maybe it was just in my head, but it’s not,” I continued, my voice trembling. “At first, I told myself he was just tired, that work was taking a toll on him. But it’s been months. And the way he looks at me now, Mom… it’s not the same.”
Kyle, unaware of the storm brewing inside me, giggled as he knocked down his tower, clapping his tiny hands. I forced a smile for him, brushing my fingers through his soft curls before looking back at my mother, desperate for reassurance.
“Corinne,” she said gently, tilting her head to the side. “Allen loves you. He always has. You’ve been through so much together. If he wanted to leave, don’t you think he would have done it during your worst days?”
“That’s what I keep telling myself,” I admitted, my fingers tightening around hers. “But what if… what if now that I’m better, he’s the one who’s exhausted? What if being with me drained him? What if I drove him away?”
She shook her head firmly. “Sweetheart, love isn’t something that fades just because things were hard. You and Allen have a bond. He stayed when things were unbearable, and he’s still here. That means something.”
I wanted to believe her. I wanted to take those words and wrap them around me like a shield against the intrusive thoughts. But deep inside, that nagging feeling wouldn’t leave. A woman’s instincts were rarely wrong.
“But what if I broke him?” I whispered, barely able to hear my own voice over the lump forming in my throat.
“What if he’s just… done?”
Mom sighed and cupped my face, her touch warm and grounding. “You are not broken, Corinne. And neither is he. Marriage isn’t always easy, but that doesn’t mean he’s stopped loving you. You need to talk to him, sweetheart.”
I let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly. She was right. I needed to talk to him. But the fear of hearing the truth—the fear that my worst suspicions were right—made my stomach churn with unease.
Kyle climbed into my lap, wrapping his tiny arms around me, pressing his face into my chest. I held him close, inhaling his familiar baby scent. If there was one thing I knew for sure, it was that I needed a safe, stable home for my children.
And I prayed, more than anything, that Allen was still part of that home.