Lingering

Victoria sat at the kitchen table, stirring her coffee absentmindedly as the morning light streamed through the window. The once-familiar silence of the house now felt different, carrying a weight she couldn’t ignore. She glanced over at the empty seat across from her, where Daniel usually sat during breakfast. Lately, though, that seat had been empty more often than not.

She sighed, taking a sip of her now-cold coffee, glancing at the clock on the wall. Daniel had been leaving earlier and coming home later, citing endless meetings and new demands at work. He’d mutter excuses, claiming it was all part of moving up in the company, his words always slipping away before she could find the right questions to ask. She’d tell herself it was probably nothing, just him being driven and ambitious like he always was.

But then, there were the small changes. The way he’d glance at his phone with a strange look in his eyes, how he’d step out to take calls in another room, his voice low and guarded. Or the way his responses to her questions had become shorter, like he was always distracted, never fully present even when he was physically there.

As she finished her coffee, Victoria heard the faint sound of Daniel’s car pulling into the driveway. She looked up, her heart giving a hopeful jump. Maybe today would be different; maybe he’d explain the distance she was feeling or apologize for his increasing absences. She stayed seated, waiting as she heard the front door open and then close softly.

Daniel walked into the kitchen, dressed in a sharp suit, his face set in a tired expression. He glanced at her briefly and gave a half-hearted smile.

“Hey,” he said, reaching for the coffee pot, his back turned to her as he poured himself a cup. She watched him, searching his face for any sign of the warmth that had once been so easy to find.

“You’re home early,” she said, trying to keep her voice casual. “I thought you had a late meeting tonight.”

He shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “It got rescheduled.”

She nodded, the silence stretching out awkwardly between them. She wanted to ask more but felt the words stick in her throat. She knew if she pushed, it might only widen the gap that already seemed to be growing between them.

As he sipped his coffee, his phone buzzed on the counter, flashing with a new message. Victoria couldn’t help but glance down, catching a glimpse of the screen before Daniel quickly picked it up, his fingers tightening around the device as he swiped the notification away. He shoved the phone into his pocket, his movements quick, almost defensive.

She forced a small smile. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just work stuff,” he replied, too quickly, a faint edge to his voice. He cleared his throat, seeming to realize his own tone. “It’s nothing, really.”

Victoria nodded, feeling the subtle ache in her chest intensify. She had trusted him implicitly for years, never feeling the need to question or doubt. But now, the distance between them felt insurmountable. Every small lie, every hidden message, every rushed excuse felt like another fracture forming in the foundation of their life together.

Later that evening, she sat alone on the couch, absentmindedly watching a TV show she wasn’t paying attention to. Daniel had slipped away into his office after dinner, leaving her with a quick peck on the cheek that felt more like habit than affection. She could hear the low murmur of his voice as he spoke on the phone behind his closed office door, the words indistinct but the tone unmistakably serious.

Victoria glanced at the clock. It was already well past Ethan’s bedtime, and yet, here she was, alone in a quiet house, feeling more like a visitor than a partner. The loneliness crept over her, filling the spaces that used to feel safe and familiar.

When Daniel finally emerged from his office, he looked worn and distant. His gaze didn’t linger on her, his footsteps quick and purposeful as he headed straight for their bedroom.

Victoria sat there in silence, watching his retreating figure. She wanted to reach out, to ask him what was really going on, but a voice inside her held her back. Part of her feared that if she pressed him, if she demanded answers, he would simply confirm the terrible suspicion she couldn’t bear to face.

She went to bed later that night, slipping under the covers beside him. He was already asleep, or at least pretending to be, his breathing even and steady. She lay there, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of unspoken words pressing down on her.

The room was dark, the only sound their soft breathing in the silence. And as Victoria lay there, feeling the empty space between them grow wider with each passing second, she wondered if the man beside her was slipping away into a world she no longer had a place in.

The heartbreak came quietly, like a whispered truth she didn’t want to admit.

The days dragged on, each one blending into the next as Victoria found herself trapped in the routine that once felt warm but now felt hollow. Mornings started the same – the clinking of mugs, the soft shuffle of footsteps as Daniel left early. Nights ended with a quiet, tired silence as she lay beside him in bed, counting his breaths while staring at the ceiling.

The changes in Daniel were subtle yet unmistakable. He was colder, distant in ways he hadn’t been before, his conversations clipped and evasive. He’d always been busy with work, but now it was as if he was a ghost in their own home, moving through the days with a new guardedness, as if his thoughts and time belonged somewhere else. Or to someone else.

Victoria tried to push the doubts from her mind, but they lingered, pressing down on her with quiet persistence. She told herself she was imagining things, that he was just stressed. But the late nights, the secretive phone calls, the faint scent of perfume on his shirts that she knew wasn’t hers – all of it became impossible to ignore.

One evening, after putting Ethan to bed, Victoria sat at the dining table, absently running her fingers over the polished wood. The house was too quiet, the only sound the hum of the fridge and the faint ticking of the wall clock. She glanced at her phone, her thumb hovering over Daniel’s contact. She almost texted him, asking when he’d be home, but something held her back. A part of her feared the answer – feared that tonight would end like so many others, with him coming in late, making an excuse she wouldn’t question, and slipping into bed beside her without a word.

Victoria sat at the table, absently tracing patterns on the wood as she waited. It was nearing midnight, and the house was silent save for the ticking clock on the wall. When the soft click of keys in the door broke the stillness, she looked up, her heart heavy.

When Daniel finally came home, it was well past midnight. She heard him before she saw him, the soft jangle of his keys, the cautious steps as he tried to be quiet. Victoria stayed still, her heart pounding in her chest as she listened to him make his way through the hall. She could smell it even before he reached her – the faint, floral scent that clung to him like a shadow, an unspoken confession she could feel but not confront.

Daniel entered, his steps cautious as he saw her waiting. “You’re still up?” he asked, forcing a small smile.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she replied, studying his face. His shirt was slightly wrinkled, the collar askew, and that scent—faintly floral, almost unfamiliar—drifted from him.

He moved past her, slipping off his shoes. “Long day at work,” he muttered. “Meetings ran late.”

“Again?” she asked quietly, trying to keep her voice steady. “You’ve been working late almost every night this week.”

He hesitated, casting a quick glance over his shoulder. “It’s just the new project. You know how demanding the board is.”

Victoria didn’t break eye contact. “And the perfume?” She forced herself to hold the question steady, even as her chest tightened.

Daniel’s expression shifted slightly, his mouth opening in surprise before he masked it. “Perfume?” he echoed, giving a short laugh. “Probably one of the assistants. You know they’re all over the place with their sprays. That stuff lingers.”

She bit her lip, her gaze hardening. “There’s lipstick on your collar, Daniel.”

He looked down at his shirt, brushing at the collar with a casualness that struck her as almost practiced. “Oh, that must’ve been from Maya. She was showing me some presentation material earlier, leaned in close for feedback. She’s, uh…a little too touchy sometimes,” he added with a chuckle that didn’t reach his eyes.

Victoria took a shaky breath, feeling the heartbreak settle like lead in her chest. “So, Maya’s…just a coworker?”

“Vic, come on.” He dropped his jacket on the chair, moving to stand in front of her. “You’re being paranoid. You think I’d actually do something like that?” His voice softened, a layer of charm creeping in. “You know I love you, right?”

Her throat felt tight. “Then why does it feel like you’re always somewhere else? Somewhere you can’t tell me about?”

Daniel ran a hand through his hair, looking away. “You’re overthinking things, Vic. You always do this when I get busy.” He sighed, as if exhausted by the conversation. “Look, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

She searched his face, but all she found was that same distant look, the one that closed her out even as he stood just inches away.

Without another word, she turned and headed to bed, leaving him to his excuses, the scent of betrayal lingering in the air.