It had been five days since I first noticed the change in Grachelle. Five days of cold silences, of half-hearted smiles, of watching her drift further and further away from me. At first, I told myself it was just wedding stress. That the pressure of planning everything, making sure every little detail was perfect, had finally taken its toll on her. But deep down, I knew better.
Something was wrong.
She had always been so present, so full of life, even in the quiet moments we shared. But now, she barely spoke unless necessary, her thoughts constantly elsewhere. She had become distant, lost in her own world, and no matter how hard I tried to reach her, she kept slipping through my fingers.
Tonight was no different.
We sat in the living room of the Atkins residence, the soft glow of the c
