After Three Years Of Silent Marriage Novels & Stories

Even after we left my father’s home, my admiration toward Alicent remained. After three years of being married, my wife and I came back for my brother’s graduation, Maverick. Did I hope I would see her here? Of course. I’ve missed her so much that when my eyes laid at her again after three years, my cock reacted to her. When the night came, Maricel slept early. And because she is pregnant, our sex life slowly dies. To tell you honestly, I was unsatisfied with how our sex life has become in the last three years. She is a bit… boring. The reason why it took us this long before she became pregnant.

Despite my best efforts, his silence remained unyielding, leaving me to grapple with the suffocating silence that permeated our shared space. With each passing day, the weight of isolation grew heavier, a burden I struggled to bear alone. In my attempts to maintain a façade of normalcy, I sought solace in fleeting moments of connection with family, masking the growing rift beneath a veneer of forced smiles and empty pleasantries. I could not go and meet them every day or they would have guessed that things were not normal between us. Yet amidst the darkness, a glimmer of hope emerged with Mom and Dad's return. Their comforting presence breathed life into our stale home, offering a brief resp

Without a flinch, I pluck it out, and still I feel nothing but the twisting clench in my heart. My other hand finds its way back to my stomach, which is flat, silent, and empty. A broken chuckle slips past my lips as I slide down to the cold, unfeeling floor. One… two… three… Seconds pass. Minutes even, but there’s nothing there to feel. No flutter. No kick… Just silence. It’s just an oven that is never meant to hold warmth. Three years… Three fucking long years of marriage and not even once does Keegan touch me. He doesn’t even dare to sleep on the same bed as me, as if I were some kind of plague he’s afraid of.

“Three years ago.” “My wife left about six months ago. She just… packed her things and went. Said she couldn't live with the silence anymore." He let out a bitter laugh. “The irony is, now I can't stand the noise." Amelia's heart ached for him. "I understand. The quiet... it's a special kind of loud, isn't it?” He nodded, his eyes, those deep, weary pools, holding hers. “Loudest damn thing I've ever heard.”

I didn’t need water, I needed something I couldn’t have. I returned to the bedroom and sank back onto the couch just as the sound of the shower filled the space. The steady rush of water echoed through the walls, loud and impersonal. We had been married for three years but there had always been a barrier between us. It has been three years of polite distance in public, three years of cold indifference in private, three years of carefully scheduled intimacy reduced to calculations and ovulation charts, three years of trying and failing to give him the heir he wanted.

No matter if it was her looks, figure, or status, she was in no way comparable to me. And yet, I had still lost to her. During the past three years that I was married to Chandler, we had had countless fights that led to the silent treatment. Even so, he had never once been the one to try to reconcile with me first. I had assumed he was just that cold and indifferent by nature, that he was the same to everyone. It was only today that I discovered that wasn't the truth. He was entirely capable of smiling with such doting affection. He didn't like the feeling of being ignored, and he knew that he had to set aside his pride to make a woman happy.

"Call me Iva. We're getting divorced." Fear flooded his eyes. "Forgive me, please. I screwed up. I'll never lie or see Clarisse again. I'll fire her. She can go wherever." I crossed my arms, giving him a mocking look. "Didn't you run after her today? She was gonna go home and get married. Now you're okay with it?" He froze, sweat beading on his forehead. "I don't care about anyone else." He shook his head, clutching his chest. "We've been together three years. I can't live without you. Thinking of you leaving tears me apart."

With numbers. Her fingers trembled slightly as she traced the edge of the page. She hadn’t realized how tense she was until she noticed the dull ache in her shoulders and the pressure building behind her eyes. It felt like she’d been holding herself together for too long, afraid that if she loosened her grip even a little, everything would fall apart. Three years. She tried to pinpoint when the marriage had started slipping away, but there wasn’t a single moment she could blame. No explosive fights. No dramatic betrayal. Just distance. Silence. Evenings spent alone in a house meant for two.

Perhaps once enough time had passed, when she got older, and the company stabilized a little more, she would slowly learn how to pay attention to other people's emotions. Silas thought he could still hang in there a little longer. He'd already survived three years, so what was three more? With their hands clasped together, the couple hailed a cab and disappeared into the night. Inside the car, soft radio music played. Teresa leaned back and closed her eyes to rest, while Silas looked out at the streets whizzing past. At this moment, he had already prepared himself for the long haul, ready to continue enduring this seemingly hopeless marriage. What he didn't know was that endurance was only p

“The structure continues. Further review in one year.” The private damage between them had not been erased by time or by the successful enforcement of the terms. It had become something they carried inside a functioning marriage and a functioning hierarchy — present, acknowledged, no longer permitted to dictate the house’s order. They had not returned to the unguarded intimacy of the time before the silence. They had built, instead, a durable partnership under the weight of what the silence had produced. Sofia met his eyes. “She’s using the extra minutes fully. Still no performance. Still no demand.”