Sleepless

The house was quiet. Too quiet and Ann lay awake in the darkness, staring at the ceiling.

It was nearly two in the morning, but sleep refused to come.

Beside her, Daniel slept peacefully, his back turned toward her. Ann watched him for a while. Once, simply looking at Daniel had made her heart race. Now, she couldn't even recognize the distance between them.

She slowly turned onto her side and placed a hand beneath her stomach. Her unborn baby was awake too. A tiny movement made her smile faintly. “Are you awake too?” she whispered. She rubbed her stomach gently. “Maybe we're both thinking too much.” She sighed.

Her eyes drifted toward the window. Moonlight slipped through the curtains, casting pale shadows across the bedroom. And suddenly, Ann remembered the woman she used to be. Before marriage. Before motherhood. Before pregnancy. Before she became someone's wife, someone's daughter-in-law, someone's employee, and someone's mother.

She remembered Ann. The real Ann. The girl who used to laugh without worrying about tomorrow. She had loved beautiful dresses then. She would spend hours choosing what to wear, standing before the mirror and turning from side to side. She remembered her favorite perfume. Her favorite earrings. The way she used to style her hair before leaving the house.

She smiled sadly. “When was the last time I dressed up for myself?” The question lingered. She couldn't remember. Before marriage, Ann had dreams. She wanted to build a career. She wanted to travel. She wanted to have her own space. She wanted to wake up in the morning excited about life. She had friends she rarely spoke to anymore.

There had been weekends when she would meet them for lunch, laugh until her stomach hurt, take pictures, and return home with stories to tell. Now, her weekends were filled with laundry, cooking, cleaning, childcare, errands, and work.

Even resting felt like a luxury. Ann closed her eyes. She remembered her wedding day. She had been so happy. She remembered walking toward Daniel with tears in her eyes. She had believed she was walking toward the beginning of the life she had always dreamed about.

Daniel had held her hand tightly. He had promised to love her. To protect her. To stand beside her. Ann had believed every word. And for a while, Daniel had been everything she wanted. He used to call her just to hear her voice. He used to bring her little surprises. He noticed when she changed her hairstyle. He knew when something was bothering her even before she spoke. He used to pull her into his arms whenever she was tired.

She remembered one particular evening. She had come home exhausted after a difficult day.

Daniel had ordered dinner and told her, “Tonight, you don't do anything.”

She had laughed. “What about you?”

“I'll take care of everything.” She had believed that man would always exist.

A tear rolled down her cheek. “Where did we go wrong?” She quickly wiped it away. Perhaps nothing had gone wrong all at once. Maybe it happened slowly. One responsibility at a time. One sacrifice at a time. One sleepless night at a time. Then came motherhood. Her little boy had changed her world. She loved him more than she could explain. But motherhood had also changed her. She stopped sleeping properly. She stopped going out. She stopped thinking about herself.

Whenever she had free time, she used it to catch up on chores. Then came another pregnancy. She had barely begun finding herself again when she discovered she was expecting another child. She wasn't angry about the baby. Never. This child was already loved. But Ann was tired. So tired that sometimes she wondered if anyone noticed.

She glanced at Daniel. He was still asleep. Did he know how many nights she had cried quietly beside him? Did he know how often she ate last because everyone else needed food first? Did he know how many times she went to work exhausted? Did he know that sometimes she stood in the bathroom for five minutes just to enjoy being alone?

Probably not. Because she had never told him. She had always said, “I'm fine.”

Ann slowly sat up. She walked toward the mirror. The woman staring back at her looked different. Her face was tired. Her eyes lacked the brightness she remembered. She touched her reflection. “I miss you.”

She wasn't talking about Daniel. She was talking about herself. “I miss the old Ann.” she added and tears came freely now. “I miss laughing. I miss dressing up. I miss having dreams that weren't about everybody else.”

She covered her mouth to keep herself from making a sound. Then she heard movement behind her.

“Ann?” She froze. Daniel had woken up.

She quickly wiped her tears. “I'm fine.”

“I never asked if you're fine.”

“Oh.”

Daniel sat up. “You're crying.”

“No.”

“I can see you.”

Ann looked at him through the mirror and for a moment, she wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to say she was exhausted. That she needed help. That she missed him. That she missed herself. But the words refused to come.

Daniel got out of bed. He walked toward her. “Ann…”

She stepped away. “Please. I'm tired.”

He stopped. Her words weren't angry. They were empty. And somehow, that hurt more.

“You should sleep,” he said quietly.

Ann nodded. “I will.” She returned to bed.

Daniel stood there for several seconds before lying down again. Neither of them spoke. Ann closed her eyes. She didn't know what tomorrow would bring. But one thing had become clear. She couldn't bring the old Ann back by pretending everything was fine. If she wanted to find herself again, she would have to start choosing herself. Even if Daniel didn't understand. Even if Olivia remained in their home. Even if everyone thought she was selfish.

Ann placed her hand over her stomach. “I promise,” she whispered to her unborn baby, “you'll know a mother who knows her worth.”

And for the first time that night, Ann closed her eyes. Not because her problems had disappeared. But because somewhere inside her, a forgotten part of herself had finally awakened.