Chapter 1 Three Years of Silence
That night was no different from the nights before. The bedroom door opened a little past eleven, followed by unhurried footsteps, then Lucas’s silhouette appeared in the gap of the door I had deliberately left ajar. I stood by the window, staring blankly outside.
"You’re late," I said, staring out into the drizzle.
“There was an emergency operation that ran late.” His voice carried neither apology nor explanation.
Lucas loosened his slightly wrinkled shirt, his face as composed as ever, neat, calm, untouched by anything. I watched him for a few seconds, trying to find something beneath that expression. As always, there was nothing.
“You never ask about my day. Not today, not yesterday, not in three years.”
Lucas glanced at me from the wardrobe. “What’s the point of asking something that doesn’t matter?”
“So you think asking about me doesn’t matter.” My voice rose slightly, and Lucas let it. “Turns out my presence has never meant anything to you.”
He exhaled, short and controlled, then placed his bag on the chair. “Alicia, I’m tired. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”
“We never talk, Lucas.” I took a step forward. “You never have time to talk to me.”
Silence hung between us. He didn’t deny it, nor did he agree. He just looked at me with an expression I couldn’t read, not anger, not guilt, but something in between that had no name.
“I don’t know what you want from me,” he finally said.
“I want you to be present in our marriage.” The words came out softer than I expected, but that only made them heavier. “Not just your body coming home. I want you to actually be here.”
Lucas didn’t respond right away. He sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor. The posture of someone carrying something he refused to say. I sat across from him, keeping a distance that felt necessary.
“You come to me only when you want to satisfy your desires,” I continued, my voice steady even if my chest wasn’t. “And the next day you disappear again as if nothing had happened. I’m not… I’m not a trophy wife or a s*x doll without feelings, Lucas.”
He lifted his head. Something flickered in his eyes, brief, quick, then gone. “I’ve never thought of you that way.”
“But that’s how I feel.” I held my breath for a moment. “Three years, Lucas. Three years I’ve waited for you to open your heart to me. Every day, I strive to be patient and be the best wife I can be for you. But even just to try, you won’t.”
This time, he said nothing. His jaw tightened slightly, the only sign my words had reached somewhere inside him. But as always, he didn’t open that door.
I stood and walked back to the window. Outside, the rain began to pour harder.
“If this keeps going,” I whispered to my reflection in the glass, “I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.”
“Alicia…”
“Don’t.” I shook my head gently, not turning around. “Don’t say anything if you don’t mean it. I’ve heard too many empty words already.”
The sound of rain filled the room we left in silence. Lucas didn’t move, and I didn’t turn back. We were always stuck at the same point, close enough to hurt each other, but too far to reach one another.
And on the night of our third year of marriage, for the first time, I allowed myself to think that maybe holding on isn’t always a sign of strength; sometimes, it’s just another name for a habit we’re too afraid to break.
“Have you ever tried to love me, Lucas?”
The question slipped out just like that, without planning, without thinking. My voice was soft, but clear enough to cut through the sound of rain. I finally turned to look at him for the first time since the conversation began.
Lucas didn’t answer immediately. He stayed seated on the edge of the bed, slightly hunched, as if the question weighed more than he wanted to admit. A few seconds passed too long for something that should have been simple.
“I don’t know,” he finally said.
The answer wasn’t harsh, nor was it cold. But somehow, that made it hurt even more.
I gave a small, bitter smile. “You don’t know, or you’ve never tried?”
He looked up at me, this time longer. There was something in his eyes I couldn’t quite understand, like exhaustion, not just from work, but from something deeper. But as always, he didn’t explain.
“I can’t force something that isn’t there,” he said quietly.
The sentence fell like something I had longed to hear, yet when it finally came, it shattered me.
I nodded slowly, trying to process every word. “So all this time… I’ve just been waiting for something that never existed?”
He didn’t answer, and his silence said enough.
I let out a soft, almost soundless laugh. “Funny, isn’t it? I thought if I was patient, understanding, and stayed… you’d open your heart.”
I took a slow step toward the bed but didn’t sit. I just stood there, keeping a distance that, somehow, felt safer.
“Turns out all my waiting and patience were for nothing,” I continued.
Lucas rubbed his face, looking slightly frustrated. “I never asked you to wait.”
I looked at him sharply. “But you never told me to leave either.”
He fell silent, and for the first time, I saw him without an answer.
Silence settled between us again, but this time it felt different. No longer a silence waiting to be filled, but one that had finally said everything.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady something slowly collapsing inside my chest.
“Maybe this is my fault,” I whispered. “I hoped too long for someone who doesn’t even know how to love me.”
Lucas looked at me, but said nothing.
I nodded faintly, more to myself. “I’m tired, Lucas.”
This time, my voice was completely honest, unrestrained, unhidden. Tired of waiting, tired of hoping, tired of loving alone. I turned back to the window, watching the rain fall harder, my reflection faint on the glass.
But it was enough to show me something I had ignored for so long.
I wasn’t happy.
And maybe… I had been pretending for far too long that I could still endure.
“If you don’t want to stay, then go,” Lucas said flatly, his gaze cold. “But I’m sorry. I can’t force my feelings.”
