Romans & histoires After Three Years Of Silent Marriage

Raw. For five long years, Elias had held back. Our wedding night had been almost mechanical, he made me come twice, but there had been no intimacy, no connection. He hadn’t looked at me, hadn’t said a word. Once it was over, he had left, and that was the last time we touched.

Three years ago, I was barely breathing after Richard’s first betrayal, still stupidly hopeful that love—our love—could be salvaged. Now the world thinks I’m some tragic little whore who faked her death after she was caught embezzling from her company. Christ, how will I dig myself out of this mess? The silence is suffocating. I clutch my hands tightly in my lap, nails digging into my palms. He doesn’t say a word. Neither do I. The car ride is quiet, awkward, and tense. The kind of quiet that comes after a slap—or right before one. God, I cannot wait for this farce of a marriage to end.

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.

"For three years, you've been faithful to him even while he's been away. Now that he's the one who said it's an open marriage, MAKE IT A FACT ONCE AND FOR ALL! Is it really that hard to find a man to sleep with?" Danica's words were like a poisoned dagger, stabbing straight into my heart. As soon as the words left her mouth, she seemed completely exasperated by my stubbornness. Without another glance, she slammed the door and left, leaving me alone in the empty room, wrapped in endless confusion and doubt. I sat frozen in place. For three years, my tears had been my closest companion. Countless nights, I cried silently in the dark, drowning in waves of longing that pulled me under.

He didn't think that Grace was that great. Three years into their marriage, why was he that blind?

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

“I don’t want to see you. In less than three days, I’ll be married to you. All yours to do what so ever you wish for. Can’t you give me three days of peace and freedom from interference?” Sophia didn’t heard a single word, waiting for which felt like an eternity to her. “Fine, I am giving you these three days stillness but in return, the day we get married, I don’t want you to push me any further.” Subsequent to saying his part, Noah put down the call where as Sophia still placed her phone on her ears and replied to the thin air, with whimper in her voice. “Sure, I won’t.” Three days passed, and what discerned like a blink to Sophia, felt no less than a century to Noah.

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.