Chapter 1 – When Love Felt Real
At first, love felt like sunshine. It was simple. It was kind. It was everything Anna ever dreamed of. When she married Ethan, she thought she had found the man who would never let her feel alone again. They were not rich, but they were happy. Every morning, she smiled when he called her name. Every night, she waited to hear his stories from work.
Anna loved doing small things for him. She made his favorite breakfast and packed his lunch with a small note that said, “Don’t forget to smile.” Ethan laughed and kissed her forehead before leaving. He often said, “You make this house feel like home.” Those words meant everything to her.
They shared small joys that made life beautiful. Watching movies on the couch. Talking till late night. Arguing over what to cook for dinner and then laughing together. She loved how he teased her when she burned toast or added too much salt. Life felt complete. She often said softly, “If this is love, I want it forever.”
On weekends, Ethan bought her flowers, and she hugged him tightly. They walked hand in hand to the small café near their home. Anna talked about dreams, about children, about growing old together. Ethan smiled and said, “We have time for everything.” She believed him.
But slowly, small changes began to appear — tiny, silent things. He stopped noticing the way she dressed up for him. He stopped thanking her for meals. He started checking his phone during dinner. She laughed to hide her hurt and said, “You’re always busy these days.” He smiled without looking at her and said, “It’s just work.”
Still, she tried to keep the love alive. Every morning, she kissed his hand before he left. Every night, she sat near the window waiting for his car lights. Sometimes he came late, tired and silent. She brought him food and said softly, “You didn’t eat all day again.” He replied, “I’m not hungry.” And then he slept without talking.
Anna looked at him and whispered, “I just want you to look at me once like before.” But he didn’t hear her. She didn’t complain. She believed love needed patience. She told herself, “Maybe he’s just tired. Maybe he needs time.”
Days turned into weeks. Ethan became quieter. He started taking more phone calls during dinner. Anna tried to start conversations, but he answered with one word. She wrote little messages on sticky notes and put them on his mirror — “You are loved.” He never mentioned them.
One evening, she cooked his favorite meal and waited. The clock showed 9, then 10. He didn’t come. She called him, but he didn’t answer. She waited until midnight. When the door finally opened, Ethan looked tired and said, “I told you not to wait. You could have eaten.” She smiled weakly and said, “I wasn’t hungry without you.” He didn’t reply. He walked into the room and closed the door.
That night, Anna sat alone at the table. The food was cold. Her eyes were wet, but she didn’t cry loudly. She held her wedding photo and whispered, “We used to be happy. What happened to us?”
Next morning, she made coffee and placed it near him. He didn’t notice. He was scrolling through his phone. She said softly, “Do you remember our first trip? You said I was the best thing in your life.” He looked up for a second and said, “That was years ago, Anna. I’m not the same person now.”
Her heart broke a little. She went to the kitchen and took a deep breath. She didn’t want to fight. She wanted to save what was left. She whispered to herself, “I’ll keep trying. Maybe one day he’ll see how much I love him.”
In the evening, she wrote the first line in her diary.
“He still loves me. Maybe he’s just lost.”
She closed the book and smiled faintly, as if she was trying to convince herself. Love was still there, she thought — just sleeping for a while. But deep inside, something had already changed.
The warmth that once filled her heart had turned quiet. She looked at the closed door of their room and felt the cold truth — sometimes, love begins to fade long before it ends.
