Chapter 13: The Beginning of Isolation
858 Words
Soon, invitations stopped coming her way.
Not because people didn’t care enough to see her.
She simply didn’t want to go.
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Friends texted less.
Coworkers gave up asking.
Sarah eventually moved on, thinking Becca was busy.
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And every time she chose to stay home, she felt Lee relax a little more.
He welcomed her back each time.
Loved her a little harder.
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That’s when he jumped behind her as she was washing dinner one night.
Surprising her with his embrace.
“See?” Lee whispered against her back.
“What?” She mumbled back.
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“This.”
He nuzzled his chin into her shoulder.
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Just us.
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Becca began staring out the window, deliberately avoiding eye contact with her husband.
Those words should have comforted her.
Instead, her chest tightened.
Panic rushing in where warmth used to be.
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Because at that moment, she realized.
It didn’t matter that they were just her and Lee.
Because soon it would be:
Just Lee.
The Thought She Couldn’t Ignore
That night, Becca lay awake in bed while Lee slept beside her.
Listening to the hum of the ceiling fan.
Listening to her house creaking in the cooling night.
Listening to her own thoughts.
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For the longest time, she had asked one question about every relationship she’s ever had.
Herself included.
Did he love me enough?
Now she found herself asking another question.
A question she couldn’t seem to quiet in her mind.
Why does it feel like love gets smaller each year?
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Lee slept soundly next to her, clueless.
Or maybe purposely ignorant of what was happening.
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And for the first time since falling in love with Lee –
Becca allowed herself to consider an option she had never entertained.
Leaving.
She was nowhere near that point just yet.
But she started asking questions.
She started paying attention.
And most importantly, she started caring again.
Because the woman who spent 15 years explaining herself to her man –
Started to wonder why she had to explain herself at all.
The Ring Didn’t Fix Anything
When Lee asked her to marry him, everyone told Becca how lucky she was.
“He adores you.”
“That man would do anything for you.”
“Look how he looks at you.”
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And they weren’t wrong.
He did look at her.
All. The. Time.
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By that point, Becca had gotten good at brushing off the unsettled feeling she’d get sometimes.
The feeling that something just wasn’t right.
The feeling that love shouldn’t have to be explained so much.
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When he slid the ring on her finger, she shoved those thoughts aside.
Because she loved him.
Because he loved her.
Because getting married was supposed to fix that.
Right?
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“You stuck with me,” Lee joked when she said yes.
Becca giggled.
“So did you.”
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They didn’t realize how those words would feel for years down the road.
After the Wedding
The first year of marriage wasn’t bad.
No. Not really.
In fact, parts of it were great.
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They learned how to live together.
How to split bills.
How to create routines.
How to just…be married.
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Date nights.
Pizza on the couch.
Lazy Sundays.
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And every time Becca started to worry about her instincts, she’d remember moments like these.
“That’s proof,” she’d tell herself.
“That you’re fine.”
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Then small things started happening.
Again.
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She was getting ready to go out to dinner with Sarah one night.
Lee perched himself on the side of her bed to watch her.
“You look nice.”
She beamed.
“Thanks.”
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A brief silence.
Followed by: “You don’t dress up that much usually.”
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Her smile faded a little.
“I’m going out.”
“I know.”
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Another silence.
Then: “Just seems like you’re going through a lot of effort.”
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It was slight.
Totally harmless.
But that sentence haunted her the rest of the night.
The Beginning
The first time Lee said *his* around Becca in a way that made her uncomfortable, she nearly chuckled.
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They were at a family BBQ. Someone asked how they met.
Lee put his arm around Becca’s waist.
“This one’s mine.”
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Everyone laughed.
Including Becca. At first.
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Later that night, as they were driving home, Becca watched out the passenger side window.
Silently.
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“You’re quiet.”
She shrugged.
“I’m tired.”
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Lee’s eyes flickered to hers.
“You didn’t like me saying that.”
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She turned her head fully to look at him.
“What?”
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“That thing I said.”
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Becca paused. Said carefully. “A little.”
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His jaw clenched automatically.
“I was kidding.”
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“I know.”
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“You know why we’re not supposed to joke about that?”
And just like that. The pattern began.
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The conversation didn’t last long. It became about how his words made him feel.
Not how they made her feel.
- Writer
