Chapter 1 – The Perfume on His Shirt

Linda was sixty-eight years old. She had lived most of her life with Robert. People around them thought they were a perfect couple. They had two children who were grown. They had a big family name. They had respect in society. Everyone said, “They are lucky. They have everything.”

But Linda knew the truth inside her heart. She was not happy. She was not at peace. She felt that something had been missing for many years. She could not tell it to anyone. She only kept it inside. She prayed for her husband. She prayed for her family. She hoped that one day she would feel loved again.

One evening, Robert came home late. Linda looked at him. She noticed something strange. His shirt smelled of perfume. It was not her perfume. It was not a smell she knew. Linda’s heart began to shake. She asked him gently, “Where were you?” Robert looked away and said, “I had work.” His voice was cold. His eyes did not meet hers.

Linda sat in the living room after dinner. Robert went to bed. She sat with her hands folded. She whispered to herself, “Why is he different? Why is he hiding?” That night she could not sleep. She kept turning on the bed. She watched Robert sleep peacefully, but her heart was heavy.

From that day, Linda started noticing more. Robert was on his phone for long hours. He typed messages and then smiled. But when Linda came close, he turned the phone away. He even put a lock on the screen. Linda’s heart broke a little more every time she saw it. She asked him once, “Why do you need a lock? What is so private?” Robert said coldly, “It’s my phone. I need privacy.” Linda did not reply. She only looked down.

She remembered the time when there were no secrets between them. She remembered when they talked about everything. Now, silence had taken that place. Silence had become her new companion.

One night, Linda cooked his favorite meal. She wanted to surprise him. It was their wedding anniversary. She wore the blue dress Robert once said he loved. She lit a candle on the table. She waited for him. She looked at the clock again and again. Hours passed. Robert did not come home. Finally, her phone beeped. It was a short message from Robert: “Busy tonight.”

Linda read those two words many times. Tears filled her eyes. She sat at the table alone. She ate one bite, but the food tasted like salt. She was not eating food. She was eating her own tears. She whispered to herself, “So many years I gave you. Was it only for this night of loneliness?”

Later, when Robert came home past midnight, Linda was awake. She did not speak. He did not speak. He went to sleep as if nothing had happened. Linda stayed awake till morning. She thought about her whole life. She thought about her sacrifices. She thought about her love. She thought about how she left her dreams to raise their family. She asked herself, “Did he ever really love me? Or was I only useful for his needs?”

Days passed. Robert grew colder. He no longer looked at her with warmth. He no longer asked her how she felt. He stayed busy with his phone, his work, and his late nights. Linda’s heart cried every day. She did not tell her children. She did not tell her neighbors. She carried the pain alone.

One evening she could not control herself. She said softly, “Robert, what has happened to us? Why are you so far away from me?” Robert looked up from his phone for a second and said, “I am tired, Linda. Please do not start.” His words felt like knives. She turned away and cried silently.

Linda started to write her feelings in a small diary. She wrote, “I gave him everything. I gave him my youth. I gave him my health. I gave him my loyalty. Today I sit alone with nothing in my hands.” Each word came out with her tears. The paper became wet with drops from her eyes.

Her nights became longer. She lay awake, listening to the ticking of the clock. Every tick reminded her of the years she gave to Robert. Every tick reminded her that her love had become a burden for him.

Linda felt her body grow weak. She was losing sleep. She was losing weight. She looked in the mirror and whispered, “This is not the face he loved. This is the face of a woman he forgot.”

But still, she held one hope in her heart. She hoped maybe Robert would return to her one day. She hoped maybe he would see her again. She hoped maybe he would remember the woman who stood beside him for fifty years.

Her heart was heavy. Her tears were many. But deep inside, a small voice told her, “This is only the beginning. More truth is coming.”