chapter thirteen
910 Words
Too Close to Pretend
The night felt longer than usual.
Not because of time…
But because of awareness.
Maya sat on the edge of the bed, her hands folded tightly in her lap, trying not to think about the fact that Ethan was just a few steps away.
In the same room.
In the same space.
Close enough to hear her breathing.
Ethan stood near the window, pretending to look outside.
But he wasn’t.
His mind wasn’t on the city.
It was on her.
On the silence behind him.
On the fact that she hadn’t moved to leave.
“You can turn off the lights,” Maya said softly.
Ethan glanced back.
“You’re not sleeping yet.”
She hesitated.
“…Neither are you.”
A pause.
Then he walked to the switch.
The room dimmed.
But it didn’t feel dark.
Not really.
Because now… they could only sense each other.
Maya lay down slowly, keeping a careful distance on the bed.
As if space could protect her heart.
Ethan stayed where he was for a moment longer.
Then, quietly, he sat on the chair beside the bed instead of leaving.
Maya noticed immediately.
“You’re not going to your room?”
He shook his head slightly.
“No.”
Her breath slowed.
“Why?”
A pause.
Then he said simply,
“Because I said I’d stay where I can see you.”
Maya turned slightly toward him.
“You really don’t trust anyone, do you?”
Ethan didn’t answer right away.
Then, softer than before:
“I trust you more than I trust my own decisions lately.”
That made her chest tighten.
Silence fell again.
But this time, it wasn’t empty.
It was full of awareness.
Of presence.
Of something neither of them wanted to name.
After a while, Maya spoke quietly.
“Ethan…”
“Yes?”
“…Do you ever feel like your life was decided for you?”
He looked at her.
A long pause.
“Yes.”
Her eyes softened slightly.
“I think mine was too.”
Ethan frowned slightly.
“What do you mean?”
Maya hesitated.
Then shook her head.
“Never mind.”
But he didn’t let it go.
He stood and moved closer to the bed.
Not aggressive.
Not forceful.
Just closer.
“Tell me,” he said gently.
Maya sat up slightly now.
Their eyes met properly.
And for the first time… there was no wall between them.
Just truth waiting to spill.
“I always feel like I’m filling in for someone,” she admitted quietly.
Ethan’s gaze sharpened slightly.
“…Sophia.”
Maya nodded slowly.
“But I don’t even know her anymore,” she whispered. “I don’t know what’s real about this marriage. I don’t know what’s real about me.”
Ethan stared at her for a long moment.
Then, unexpectedly, he said:
“Look at me.”
She hesitated.
Then did.
His voice softened.
“You are not a replacement.”
Maya’s breath caught.
“You don’t understand—”
“I do,” he cut in gently.
And something in his tone made her stop.
He stepped closer again.
Now there was no space left between uncertainty and truth.
“If you were just a replacement,” he said quietly, “I wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”
Maya’s heart raced slightly.
“…Then why are you here?” she asked.
A pause.
Ethan looked at her like the answer wasn’t easy to say out loud.
Then he spoke anyway.
“Because when you’re not around… everything feels wrong.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Real.
Maya’s fingers tightened slightly on the bedsheet.
“That’s dangerous to say,” she whispered.
Ethan gave a faint, almost tired smile.
“I know.”
But he didn’t step back.
Neither did she.
A long silence passed between them again.
Then Maya asked softly:
“Ethan… do you regret marrying me?”
That question hung in the air.
He didn’t answer immediately.
And for a second, fear flickered in her eyes.
But then he finally said:
“No.”
Just that.
Simple.
Certain.
Maya exhaled slowly, like she’d been holding her breath for days.
“Even with everything happening?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
Then he added more quietly:
“Especially with you here.”
That broke something inside her.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
But softly… like something melting.
She looked away quickly, trying to hide it.
But Ethan noticed.
He always noticed.
“Don’t overthink it,” he said gently.
Maya gave a faint laugh.
“That’s impossible at this point.”
He studied her for a moment.
Then, very slowly, he reached out—stopping just short of touching her hand.
Not forcing.
Just offering.
Maya saw it.
And after a moment of hesitation…
She placed her hand in his.
It was small.
Simple.
But everything changed.
Ethan didn’t tighten his grip.
Just held her hand like it was something fragile.
Something real.
Something he didn’t want to lose.
Maya whispered,
“This doesn’t fix anything, you know.”
“I know,” he replied softly.
“But it changes something.”
She looked up at him.
“…What?”
Ethan didn’t look away this time.
“You’re not alone in it anymore.”
Outside, the storm finally softened.
Inside the room…
Two people stopped pretending distance meant safety.
And for the first time since the wedding…
Silence felt like comfort.
Not confusion.
- Writer
