Amara woke up the next morning with a strange heaviness in her chest. It was not fear, nor was it sadness—just a quiet weight that refused to lift. She lay still for a moment, listening to the distant sounds of the morning, until Daniel stirred beside her and reached for his phone.
"I'll be late today," he said casually as he stood up. "There's a lot to handle at work."
Amara nodded, forcing a small smile. "Alright. Be careful."
She watched him leave the room, her thoughts lingering on his words. Late again. She brushed the thought aside and went about her day, determined not to let small things steal her peace.
Her business kept her occupied. Orders came in slowly, and she spent the afternoon organizing supplies and updating her records. Still, her mind wandered. She found herself replaying moments from the past few weeks—Daniel's silences, his distant gaze, the way he seemed preoccupied even when he was at home.
By evening, Daniel still hadn't returned.
Amara prepared dinner and waited. When the food grew cold, she packed it away and sat on the couch, her hands folded in her lap. She didn't feel angry—just uncertain. She wondered when patience became worry, and whether the line between the two was thinner than she had ever realized.
Daniel arrived much later than expected. He apologized softly, exhaustion written all over his face. Amara said nothing, only offered him water and asked if he had eaten. He said yes and went straight to the bathroom.
That night, they lay in bed with a small space between them. Amara stared at the ceiling, her thoughts louder than the silence around her. She wanted to ask questions—simple ones—but fear held her back. She was afraid of the answers, afraid of disrupting the fragile peace she was trying so hard to maintain.
Beside her, Daniel lay awake too.
He turned to look at Amara, his eyes filled with something he could not name. Guilt? Confusion? Or simply the weight of responsibilities he did not know how to share?
Neither of them spoke.
In the quiet darkness, two people who once shared every thought lay side by side, each lost in their own unspoken worries. And though nothing had been said, something had already begun to change.