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It's Not What It Seems
Last Updated:
2025-09-28 20:14:24
Latest chapter
What’s left of us It's Not What It Seems
Over the next week, I make attempts to have some conversations with Michael about our relationship. He continues to tell me that everything is fine, he loves me, and nothing has changed. I don’t bring up what I saw at the café. I go to another kickboxing class, and I have to admit that I am finding that I enjoy it. Even if I feel like I can’t move the next day. On my day off, I wake up early so I can talk to Michael before he heads off to work. I come downstairs to greet him. He’s sitting at our dinning table with his coffee and his phone. He’s already dressed in a deep navy suit. I come up behind him, wrap my arm around his shoulders, and kiss his cheek. I linger for a few moments, enjoying the feel of my husband. He smells like sandalwood from his soap. I love that smell. I slowly release him and come around to face him. He looks up at me with a small smile. “Good morning, Honey,” I greet him. “Good morning” he replies, watching my face intently. He looks as
What’s left of us To trying new things
At the end of my shift, I check my phone. I quickly notice I have no messages from Michael. I can’t say I am surprised, but it still hurts to feel so disconnected and unsure of our relationship right now. B, however, had messaged me back. B: Girl, don’t worry about him tonight. Instead of staying home alone. I have an idea…B: Let’s go to the kick boxing class together! I know working out isn’t really your thing, but you’ve had a lot happen in the couple days. I think punching some shit would help! 🥊I contemplate that. I really, truly, am not one for physical activities. It’s just never been my thing. However, I’ve never tried kickboxing. Bianca always talks about how much she loves it and how much it helps with relieving stress. Ugh, fuck it. I’ll try it. Michael says he’s working. So why can’t I go do something? I always stay home waiting on him like the dutiful wife. Well, maybe I need to get out and do more for myself. That sounds like a solid plan. Right?I message B back lett
What’s left of us No accusations, no confrontations
I don’t remember my drive home. I think I was in a bit of a daze. Have you ever known something but you just don’t want to believe it? Could this really be what I think it is or is this just a friendship? Albeit, a friendship that has crossed some boundaries.I walk into our home and look around. There’s photos us over the years on the walls. It’s painted in warm colors and it’s cozy. Michael never really cared much for decorating this house, but it’s ours and I’ve taken so much pride in it. I’ve strived to be the perfect wife; I have dinner on the table every night, the house is clean, his clothes are clean and hung up for him, we do things that he wants to do, I give him constant affection and tell him how much a love him everyday, and we spend holidays with his family. I have often set aside my own wants in favor of his to keep him happy. It never bothered me because I love him so much.I walk upstairs to our bedroom with my bag from the boutique. Setting the bag on the bed, I stan
What’s left of us Who is that?
“Ugh” I groan looking at myself in the full-length mirror. I close my eyes and lean my head back, feeling defeated. I give myself a few minutes then look again. I see my blue eyes on a rounder face, with my thick dark hair. My hair rarely cooperates, and my cheeks always seem too pink. My face is okay, it’s my body I feel the most uncomfortable in these days. I eye down my body wearily. This outfit does not look good on me. It fits, but it’s not flattering whatsoever. The top just emphasizes my waist and my arms look huge. I cannot wear this. I’ll have to return it and find something else. I shake my head at myself, disappointment setting in; disappointment of the possibility that I won’t be able to reconnect with my husband.I had hoped to look nice for my husband today when he arrived home from work. Things have been strained between us lately. I’ve tried to ask him about it, but he insists everything is fine. Nothing has changed with our everyday routines. He comes home for dinner
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