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3.1 Beneath My Husband’s Roof

last update Last Updated: 2025-10-17 01:14:39

The silence in the house was a physical presence, a third occupant in the cold, minimalist space that Gizelle had come to call home. She had been married to Daniel for three months, yet it felt like she barely knew the man she had promised herself to. He was distant, often preoccupied with work or trivial matters. His presence in their home was more like that of a guest than a husband and Gizelle’s attempts at connection were met with polite disinterest or quiet avoidance.

Husband.

The word felt like a lie on her tongue.

She had tried. She’d asked about his work, his day, his life. She’d left notes, cooked meals. Her efforts were met with polite, icy indifference, a wall so seamless and high that she’d eventually bruised her soul trying to scale it. Now she was exhausted. Every day brought a mixture of hope and disappointment and she had reached the point of surrender.

“I’m done. I can’t keep bending over backward for someone who barely notices me,” she whispered to herself in the mir
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