“How was your day?” Josh leant in to kiss me; his lips brushed my cheek as I turned my face.
“No worse than any other day,” I replied. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes. I uh… just let me go wash my hands.” The dejected slump of his shoulders did not go unnoticed, yet I managed to maintain my expression of detachment.
I set the table for one while the food warmed in the microwave. The glare of the light reflecting off the polished silverware caught my eye, bringing back memories of the way Josh’s eyes used to light up whenever he looked at me. Even during the times we had fought and his temper flared, that light had always been there. I had watched that light dim a little each day over the four months since we had buried yet another piece of our dream together.
“You’re not hungry?” He frowned as he noticed the single place setting.
“No. I had a late lunch. I’m going to bed.”
“Okay.” His soft sigh brought tears to my eyes as I turned toward my bedroom. “Maddy?”
“Yes,” I said without turning back to face him.
“I love you.”
I nodded, tears spilling freely down my cheeks as I made my way to my room.
We continued to live in the same house, but every aspect of our life together changed. I cooked his meals and kept the house spotless; I even did his laundry like any dutiful wife would. As days grew into months, Josh started coming home less frequently, spending most nights working late at the office. Some nights, he either failed to make his way home, or he got in at the crack of dawn, staying just long enough to shower and change.
We had quietly grown apart, passing each other like strangers on a dark, but familiar street.