The Woman She Used To Be

The shrill sound of the alarm pierced the silence at exactly five o'clock in the morning. Ann's eyes fluttered open. For a brief second, she forgot everything. Then reality settled over her like a heavy blanket. Olivia and Daniel. The dinner table. The humiliation. The scene played back over her mind that she couldn't help but sigh heavily.

She stared at the ceiling, unable to move. The room felt unusually cold. Her body ached from head to toe. Her lower back throbbed, and her feet were still swollen from standing almost the entire previous day. She instinctively placed a hand on her stomach.

A gentle kick answered her touch and a faint smile curved her lips. "Good morning, little one," she whispered. "At least you're still reminding me that I'm not alone."

She slowly raised herself up from the bed, careful not to wake her other kid, sleeping peacefully beside her. She stared silently at him. He surely had no idea the storm raging inside their home. She was sure he still believed his father was the strongest man in the world and she could fix anything with a smile.

Ann wished she could believe it too.

She quietly slipped out of bed and walked toward the bathroom. When she looked into the mirror, she barely recognized the woman staring back at her. The sparkle in her eyes had faded. Dark circles covered her lower eyes..

Her once neatly kept hair was tied into a hurried bun. There were no traces of the cheerful woman Daniel had fallen in love with years ago.

She touched her reflection. "When did you disappear?" she whispered.

Tears gathered in her eyes, but she blinked them away. There wasn't time to cry. There was never time.

Another heavy sigh escaped her lips and she washed her face, brushed her teeth, and headed downstairs.

The house was still asleep. For a few precious minutes, the silence belonged to her.

She tied an apron around her waist and opened the refrigerator. There were eggs, vegetables, milk, bread as she mentally arranged everyone's breakfast.

Father-in-law preferred oatmeal. Mother-in-law wanted tea without sugar. Her baby boy liked pancakes. Daniel usually asked for toast and coffee.

Then the stranger crossed her mind. Olivia.

She paused. What did Olivia eat?

Before she could think further, she shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she murmured. "She's a guest." Then, she began preparing breakfast.

Soon, the kitchen filled with the sounds of sizzling butter, boiling water, and clinking dishes. This time, she struggled to mix up ingredients. She struggled to pick the right stuff. Her heart and mind was occupied. Memories of the old days began to flash through her thoughts.

There was a time when Daniel used to stand behind her in the kitchen. She remembered. He would steal pieces of fried plantain before breakfast was ready. She would pretend to scold him and he would laugh about it, kiss her forehead, and promise to make it up to her.

Back then, she believed those moments would last forever. A sad smile spread through her face. How strange.

How would things change overnight? Was marriage really what they say it is?

She remembered the day she discovered she was pregnant with their first child. Daniel had lifted her into the air and spun her around the living room despite her protests.

"We're going to be parents!" he shouted. His excitement had been contagious. He couldn't even hide his joy. He was so happy about it that he did everything to be present.

He attended every doctor's appointment. He called during work just to ask if she had eaten. Everyone could tell that he couldn't wait to become a father.

So… What changed exactly? She has been asking herself that question almost every day.

Was it after the second pregnancy that everything changed? Was it when the responsibilities increased? Or had they both slowly become strangers without realizing it?

She sighed deeply. Perhaps she had changed too. Because there were days she answered him impatiently. Days when she was too exhausted to smile. Days when all she wanted was to lie down for ten minutes, but someone always needed something from her.

She wasn't proud of those moments. She wished she had handled them better. But she also wished someone had asked why she was struggling instead of assuming she no longer cared.

A sharp pain shot through her back. She grabbed the edge of the counter until it passed. The doctor had warned her to avoid standing for long periods.

She laughed bitterly. "If only life listened to doctors."

Then, she suddenly heard footsteps echoing from upstairs. Something told her it was Liam, her son.

She quickly wiped her eyes before he entered the kitchen.

"Mummy!" He screamed and wrapped his tiny arms around her waist. "Good morning,” he greeted.

"Good morning, my sunshine."

His tiny voice followed. "Mummy, I'm hungry."

"I know you are," she replied with a smile. "Breakfast is almost ready."

Within minutes, he was seated at the table, as he happily began to chat about school with Ann.

Their laughter warmed the room. For a little while, Ann forgot everything else.

Just then, another pair of footsteps approached as they both turned to the door, Daniel walked in.

He looked freshly dressed for work, his expression unreadable as always.

He glanced at the table. "Coffee."

Ann threw a gaze. No "Good morning." Not "How did you sleep?" Just one word.

Trying not to create a scene, she nodded. "I'll bring it."

Before she could turn away, Olivia entered the dining room wearing an elegant silk robe. She smiled brightly. "Oh, breakfast smells wonderful."

Ann ignored her words but politely greeted her. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Olivia replied sweetly, taking the seat beside Daniel without hesitation. She reached for the coffee pot before Ann could.

"I remember how you like your coffee," Olivia countered, pouring a cup for Daniel. "Two cubes of sugar. Just a little milk."

Daniel accepted the cup muttering, "Thanks."

Ann stood frozen for a moment. She had made Daniel's coffee and he rarely uttered a word.

Yet somehow, watching another woman do something so ordinary hurt far more than she expected.

She quietly served everyone else.No one noticed that she never sat down to eat. No one noticed that she only drank a glass of water before returning to the kitchen to wash more dishes.

As the sound of laughter drifted from the dining room, Ann rested both hands on the sink and closed her eyes. "I'm tired," she whispered.

Not tired of cooking. Not tired of cleaning. Not even tired of working. She was tired of carrying everything alone.

When did she end up this way? When did things turn out to become this sore?