Chapter 9 – Fractures
293 Words
Amara stared at the half-finished dinner on the table. Jerome sat across from her, his plate barely touched. He stirred his food absently, as if forcing himself to pretend.
“You’ve hardly eaten,” she said softly.
“Not that hungry,” he replied, eyes fixed on his fork.
It wasn’t just tonight. For weeks now, he had been retreating behind this quiet wall. Fewer smiles. Shorter answers. No more late-night talks where they used to share everything from silly jokes to future plans.
She reached for his hand, but he pulled away quickly, muttering something about needing to rest. A crack ran through her chest.
After he disappeared into the bedroom, Amara sat in silence, staring at the flickering candlelight. Guilt pricked her—was she not enough anymore? Had she done something wrong? Or worse… was there someone else?
Her phone buzzed. A message from Lorenzo.
Still awake?
She hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. She should ignore it. She knew she should.
But the ache inside her demanded comfort.
Yes, she typed back. Just can’t sleep.
Within minutes, he called.
“Rough night?” Lorenzo’s voice was warm, steadying.
Amara exhaled, leaning back against the couch. “You could say that.”
“Want to talk about it?”
She didn’t. Not really. Yet words spilled out—about Jerome’s distance, the silence between them, the confusion twisting in her heart. Lorenzo listened without judgment, his quiet hums and gentle words soothing her in a way she hadn’t realized she craved.
By the time they hung up, Amara felt lighter. Not whole, but less alone.
And that was the most dangerous part.
Because while Jerome fought his battles in silence, Amara was beginning to find solace in someone else’s voice.
- Writer
