Faded promises

Lena’s POV 

"Do you really have to go in today?" I asked, my voice laced with frustration as I carefully knotted Noah's tie. "I mean, you've barely been home lately and even when you are here, you're barely present. It's always about work. You promised we'd spend more time together, you promised to take the day off, but here we are again, you're rushing off, and I'm the one helping you look perfect."

I adjusted his shirt collar, smoothing it down with my fingers. He always looked so effortlessly handsome in his crisp white shirt, tailored suit, that dark hair slightly tousled in a way that made my heart skip. He smiled at me, that warm, disarming smile, and pulled me closer by the waist.

He leaned in and kissed me softly, quickly, but full of that familiar spark. Yet in that moment, I craved more. I wanted him to deepen it, to wrap his arms around me tightly, lift me up, carry me back to our bed, and make love to me the way he used to. The way that unraveled me completely, leaving us both breathless and tangled in the sheets like the way it used to be when we were dating and when it felt like the world revolved around us.

"I'm sorry, darling," he murmured, his voice low and apologetic as he rested his forehead against mine for a brief second. "I know I promised today would be about us, but it’s an emergency and I can't say no. I swear I'll make it up to you. I'll resolve this quickly and come back home."

Then he smiled again, the one that lit up his eyes, the one I could never resist, the one that used to make the entire room feel brighter when he walked in. It softened me just a little.

"Yeah, of course," I sighed, pulling away gently. I handed him his lunch bag, the one I'd packed that morning with his favorite sandwich and a note tucked inside, like I always did. He leaned in once more, pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, and then he was gone, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door, feeling the familiar ache settle in my chest. I used to believe in love, the fairytale kind, where Prince Charming swoops in, saves the day, and makes everything magical. Until I didn't anymore.

Noah had been my Prince Charming. Sweet, gentle, a hopeless romantic, reliable, the kind of man that existed only in movies or storybooks. He was everything I'd ever wished for, everything I'd ever dreamed of. When he proposed, it was the best day of my life. I was so excited I barely slept for a week.

But now... things were different. He was never around, always distant, emotionally unavailable. And the worst part? It has creeped into every corner of our marriage, especially our sex life. Sex had become rare, and rushed when it happened at all. Now it’s all work, work, work.

At first, I understood because his job as the only neurosurgeon at the hospital was demanding and lives depended on him, so I stayed quiet, supported him silently, never complained, and I just went along with it. But one year turned into two, two into three, and now it’s been the same routine.

There was a time I suspected he was cheating, I mean any woman in my position would think the same. The late nights, the canceled plans, the emotional walls he put up, everything. But eventually, I realized that wasn't it so I just lived with it or atleast tried too.

My phone rang, pulling me out of the swirling thoughts that threatened to consume me. I glanced at the screen and smiled. "Hey, girl! How's it going?" Maya chirped as soon as I answered, her voice bright and bubbly. "Sorry I missed your call last night—I partied way too hard, got totally wasted, and knocked out cold. I just woke up now to see them."

I chuckled, switching to speakerphone as I started folding the laundry I'd left piled on the couch. "It's alright, Maya. I just wanted your help with something, but when you didn't pick up, I figured you had better things to do so I handled it myself." I teased her lightly.

She burst into that infectious laugh, the one I'd heard my whole life but still couldn't get used to. "Ouch! Fair enough. Anyway, spill. What's the plan for today? Have you told him yet?"

"No, I haven't," I admitted, a small smile creeping back onto my face. "It’s a surprise. I booked us a table at a really nice restaurant, somewhere private, just how he likes it. So I'll just text him the address, and hopefully he shows up."

"Damn, girl! Congratulations," Maya said, excitedly. "I don't know how you do it but if I were in your shoes, I'd have left ages ago. You know I don't have the patience to handle a mama's boy."

I laughed as I carried the folded clothes to the wardrobe. "He's not a mama's boy, Maya. He just loves his mom a lot." I defended, even though she was right. 

"Yeah, right," she shot back, and I could imagine her rolling her eyes. "Don't we all do? Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Make sure you fill me in on all the deets later. Love you, pumpkin."

"Love you more," I replied, ending the call with a soft sigh.

After finishing the laundry, I tidied up a few more things around the house. The dishes from breakfast, dusted the shelves, anything to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied from wandering too far. Finally, I picked up my phone and texted Noah. ‘Dinner at Alejandro’s, 7pm. Don’t be late. Love, Lena’.

A few minutes later, his reply buzzed in ‘Got it, babe. See you at 7’.

I smiled at the screen, a flicker of hope warming me. Today was our third wedding anniversary and I wanted it to be special, I wanted it to be perfect, and that’s why I planned a surprise, who knows, perhaps it might reignite that spark we'd lost somewhere along the way.

I'd gotten my nails, lashes, and hair done the day before, soft waves cascading down my back, a fresh manicure in a subtle nude shade. I wanted to look stunning for him, more beautiful than ever. I slipped into my tight, body-hugging red dress, the one with a subtle slit in the middle that teased just enough, defined my curves and gave a glimpse of cleavage. I added the gold earrings, necklace, and bangles he'd bought me last month as an apology gift.

I applied my red glossy lipstick, the shade he adored and never hesitated to kiss off my lip, sprayed my favorite cologne, which happens to be his favorite, the one that always made him pull me closer and bury his face in my neck. I hung my long coat over my shoulders, took one final look in the mirror, adjusted my hair, smoothed my dress, and took a deep breath. Everything had to be perfect. For him. For us.

I hailed a taxi and headed to Alejandro's, a cozy, upscale spot known for its intimate booths, soft lighting, and private corners perfect for couples. When I arrived, the hostess confirmed my reservation with a warm smile and led me to our table in a secluded corner.

I removed my coat, draped it over the chair, and sat down, feeling a little nervous. Soon, a waiter approached me. "Good evening, ma'am. What can I get for you this evening?"

"Uh, good evening, actually I'm waiting for someone," I replied, offering a polite smile. "But I'll have a glass of wine for now, please. Thank you."

He bowed slightly and left, returning later with a crystal glass of rich red wine. He set it down gracefully and left me to my thoughts. I took a sip, the velvety smoothness calming my nerves and pulled out my tablet. I had some work emails to attend to, and since Noah wasn't here yet, I figured I could do that while waiting.

An hour passed and I checked the time, it was past 8 p.m. I called him and it went straight to voicemail. I told myself maybe he was stuck in traffic, or maybe he had an emergency, giving him the benefit of the doubt that he wouldn't stand me up. Not on our anniversary. But one hour turned into two, then three. Still no call, no text. Nothing.

I watched couples come and go, holding hands, laughing softly, stealing kisses under the dim candlelight. One table even had a proposal as applause rippled through the room. It stung, as it became a sharp reminder of the thrill, the fire, the spark I'd once felt in my own marriage. Now, it all seemed like a distant dream, a fallacy I'd clung unto for too long.

Finally, I signaled the waiter. "Could I have the bill, please?"

I paid quietly, gathered my coat, and walked out with as much dignity as I could muster, the cool night air clawing at my skin. When I got home, I kicked off my heels at the door, the sharp pain in my feet was nothing compared to the ache in my heart. I collapsed onto the bed, still in my dress, and let the tears come hot, silent sobs that shook my entire body.

Eventually, I got up, dragged my weary body to the bathroom. I turned on the shower, letting the hot water pour all over me, hoping it would wash away the pain, the hurt, the anger, and the crushing disappointment I just experienced. When I came out, I  slipped into my favorite sweatpants and oversized tee and decided to work for a bit. If my husband couldn't appreciate me, at least my boss would. I opened my laptop and dove into work, losing myself in emails and reports for a couple of hours.

Then the door swung open and Noah walked in, looking exhausted, tie loosened, hair a mess, but he managed a tired smile.

"Baby, I'm so, so sorry I couldn't make it to dinner," he said immediately, crossing the room toward me. "I got swamped at work and I wasn't even with my phone. I just came out of the operating room and saw your missed calls. I promise I'll make it up to you."

He leaned down, kissing my forehead softly before brushing past me to unbutton his shirt. I exhaled heavily, closed my laptop and stood up, folding my arms across my chest as I faced him.

"Do you even know what today is?" I asked, my voice steady but laced with anger.

He paused, looking at me with genuine confusion. "What do you—"

"Today was our anniversary, Noah," I cut in, a bitter chuckle escaping my lips. "Our fucking third-year anniversary and you forgot about it.."

His eyes widened in horror as he pulled out his phone, glancing at the date. "Fuck! Babe, I'm so, so sorry. I had no idea otherwise, I would have—"

"You would have done what, Noah?" I interrupted again, my voice rising as anger surged through me. I stepped closer, charging toward him. "Made up another excuse about being too busy? How there was an emergency? How you'll make it up to me but you never do? What else is new? What else do you have to say?"

He opened his mouth to protest, but I held up my hand sharply. "I'm tired, Noah. I'm tired of these endless excuses. I'm done making them for you, I’m done being patient, done being understanding, done feeling like this."

I grabbed my laptop, shoved it into my tote bag with trembling hands. "I'm going to Maya's for the night. Do whatever the fuck you want."