Chapter 6
1542 Words
The next morning, Claire woke to an empty bed.
For a moment, she lay still, staring at Ethan’s pillow. The sheets on his side were undisturbed, except for a slight crease near the edge.
He had been sleeping beside her for four years. She knew the sound of his footsteps, the way he cleared his throat before speaking, and the particular silence that followed when something bothered him.
Lately, she had begun to fear that she no longer understood what those silences meant.
She reached for her phone.
No messages from Ryan.
She wasn’t sure whether she felt relieved or disappointed.
A faint sound came from downstairs. Claire pulled on her robe and followed it to the kitchen, where she found Ethan standing beside the coffee machine, staring at nothing in particular.
“Morning,” she said.
He looked up. “Morning.”
“You’re up early.”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
Claire poured herself a glass of water. “Neither could I.”
He nodded, his attention returning to the coffee machine.
She waited for him to say something else.
He didn’t.
Finally, she leaned against the counter.
“Are we going to keep doing this?”
Ethan turned. “Doing what?”
“Pretending everything is normal.”
His expression tightened.
“I don’t think anything about us is normal right now.”
“Then talk to me.”
He gave a short, humorless laugh. “You want to talk?”
“Yes, Ethan. I do.”
“That’s interesting, considering how long we’ve gone without telling each other anything.”
Claire flinched.
He noticed, and regret crossed his face almost immediately. But the words had already landed between them.
“You’re right,” she said quietly. “We haven’t been talking.”
Ethan looked down at his coffee.
For a few seconds, Claire thought he might apologize.
Instead, he asked, “Are you seeing Ryan today?”
She hadn’t expected the question.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want to?”
Claire folded her arms.
“Why are you asking me questions you already know you don’t want the answers to?”
“Because I’m trying to understand what’s happening to my marriage.”
“And I’m trying to understand why you think you’re the only person who’s been hurting.”
His eyes lifted to hers.
“I don’t think that.”
“Then stop treating me like I’m the only one who did something wrong.”
Ethan set his mug down.
“You’re right.”
The sudden agreement left her without a response.
He rubbed a hand over his face.
“I’m angry, Claire. I’m hurt. And I don’t know what to do with any of it.”
Her expression softened, but she didn’t move closer.
“Neither do I.”
For the first time that morning, they were saying the same thing.
It wasn’t a solution.
But it was a beginning.
By lunchtime, Claire had received three messages from Ryan.
She read the first while sitting at her desk.
Ryan: I’ve been thinking about our conversation.
The second arrived a few minutes later.
Ryan: I don’t want to pressure you, Claire. But I need to know whether there’s a future for us.
She put the phone facedown.
The third message came just before one.
Ryan: I miss you.
Claire closed her eyes.
She missed him too.
That was the truth she didn’t want to admit.
Ryan made her feel attractive in a way she hadn’t felt in months. He noticed when she changed her hair. He remembered things she mentioned in passing. When she spoke, he listened as though her words mattered.
But whenever she imagined a future with him, another image appeared.
Ethan in their kitchen, making coffee.
Ethan laughing at his own terrible jokes.
Ethan holding her hand beneath a restaurant table when he thought nobody was watching.
She had spent months believing she wanted something different.
Now she wondered whether she had been looking for something familiar that she and Ethan had simply stopped giving each other.
Her phone rang.
Ryan’s name appeared on the screen.
She let it ring twice before answering.
“Hi.”
“Hey.” His voice sounded cautious. “Did you get my messages?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Claire stared at the papers on her desk.
“I don’t know what to tell you.”
“You could tell me what you want.”
“I don’t know what I want.”
There was a pause.
“Is that because of Ethan?”
She swallowed.
“Partly.”
“Do you still love him?”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Ryan was silent.
When he finally spoke, his voice had changed.
“Then what am I doing here?”
The question hurt because she didn’t have a fair answer.
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t need you to apologize for having feelings, Claire. I just need you to be honest with me.”
“I am trying.”
“I know.”
He exhaled.
“But I can’t keep being the person you turn to when things are bad at home, only to disappear when things get complicated.”
Claire looked away from her desk.
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
She had no answer.
Ryan ended the call gently, without anger or accusation.
Somehow, that made it worse.
That evening, Ethan arrived home carrying a paper bag.
Claire looked up from the sofa.
“What’s that?”
“Dinner.”
She glanced at the bag. “You bought dinner?”
“I know. Try to control your excitement.”
A small smile appeared on her face.
He set the food on the coffee table.
“That place we used to order from.”
Claire looked inside the bag.
Their old favorites.
The restaurant they had discovered during their first year of marriage, back when ordering food and watching terrible movies together counted as a perfect Friday night.
“You remembered,” she said.
Ethan gave her a puzzled look.
“Of course I remembered.”
Something tightened in her chest.
She had been so certain that he’d stopped noticing her that she’d forgotten how much he still remembered.
They ate together on the sofa.
At first, they talked about work. Then the conversation drifted toward a film they’d watched years earlier, and soon they were arguing about the ending.
Ethan insisted the main character had made the right decision.
Claire called him hopelessly sentimental.
He threw a cushion at her.
She threw it back.
For a few minutes, their laughter filled the apartment.
Then the laughter faded, leaving behind a quiet neither of them wanted to break.
Ethan looked at her.
“I miss this.”
Claire lowered her fork.
“So do I.”
“I miss you, Claire.”
Her eyes stung.
“I’m right here.”
“I know.” He swallowed. “But sometimes it feels like you’re a million miles away.”
She looked at him for a long moment.
“Sometimes I feel the same way about you.”
He nodded slowly.
“I guess we’ve both been lonely.”
“Yes.”
“And instead of telling each other, we found other people.”
Claire looked down.
“Yes.”
Neither tried to defend themselves.
For once, they allowed the truth to remain in the room without turning it into a weapon.
Ethan reached for her hand.
She let him take it.
“I don’t know if we can fix this,” he said.
Claire squeezed his fingers.
“Neither do I.”
He looked at her.
“But I want to try.”
She felt tears gathering in her eyes.
“So do I.”
They sat together until the food went cold.
Nothing was forgiven that night.
Nothing was settled.
But when they finally went upstairs, Ethan didn’t walk ahead of her, and Claire didn’t deliberately fall behind.
They entered the bedroom together.
And for the first time in a long while, they both wanted to stay.
At eleven forty-seven, Claire’s phone lit up on the nightstand.
She was already in bed when the message appeared.
Ryan: I meant what I said. I care about you, but I can’t keep doing this forever.
Claire read it silently.
Beside her, Ethan was checking his own phone.
A message from Sophie waited on the screen.
Sophie: I need to know whether you’re actually trying to save your marriage.
Ethan stared at the words.
Then he looked at Claire.
She was holding her phone, her expression distant.
For a moment, he wondered whether she was reading a message from Ryan.
He wanted to ask.
He wanted to know everything.
Instead, he placed his phone on the nightstand, screen facing up.
Claire noticed.
Their eyes met.
Neither spoke.
But something had changed.
They were still hiding things. They were still afraid of what the truth might cost them.
Yet both had begun to understand that silence wasn’t protecting their marriage.
It was slowly destroying it.
And sooner or later, one of them would have to be brave enough to say what neither was ready to hear.
They couldn’t keep living two lives forever.
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