After Three Years Of Silent Marriage นิยาย & เรื่องราว

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

I no longer quite know which. Today marks exactly three years. Three years since we spoke vows that no one was truly listening to. Three years since we committed ourselves to something that resembled a practical solution more than a vow of love. Three years of a marriage built on mist, a blurred zone, an awkward in-between that I have never been able to name. Three years of compromise, of stifled sighs, of averted gazes. I believe, from the very beginning, I always knew I was a choice of reason. A default choice. A way to extinguish the rumors, to satisfy convention, to avoid a scandal no one wanted to face.

Twelve years of her being visible to everyone except the person who was supposed to see her most. She wrote. Your silence just told me everything I needed to know. I've been fighting for this marriage while you can't even respond to a simple truth. That's the last time I'll pour my heart out to you. She wrote. I used to cry about this marriage. Lose sleep. Wonder what I was doing wrong. Pray and hope and try harder. That woman is gone. She wrote. You didn't lose me in a fight. You didn't lose me to another man. You lost me in the silence. In the deflections. In the endless cycle of me pouring out my heart while you look the other way.

But she forced herself to keep her voice steady. "Three years I was married to him. Three years, and he's still not yours." Sienna stood up slowly, her chair scraping against the tile. "You think you're clever." "I think I'm done pretending." Vivienne leaned back in her chair. "You came here to intimidate me. To remind me that I'm nothing. But I've already been nothing for three years. I've been invisible. I've been overlooked. I've been the quiet wife who never fought back."

Three years after I had made my girlfriend, Sophia Lambert, sleep with her superior, she finally went from being his lover to becoming his wife. Meanwhile, I barely made it out alive after years of being undercover in a drug trafficking ring. My body was broken beyond repair, and I had returned home only to wait for death. Sophia arrived with one of her arms wrapped around her husband’s during a charity visit for the poor. When she saw me standing in line for relief aid, she let out a mocking laugh. “Benjamin, how did you end up like this?” I hunched my shoulders. I hid the First-Class Merit Medal for Narcotics Enforcement I had received not long ago. After a long silence, I asked, “A

--- Her voice trembled. "Were you still in love with her?" --- Adrian closed his eyes. --- That single movement told her everything. --- Everything. --- Her heart shattered. --- Because if the answer had been no... He would have said it immediately. --- Instead... He remained silent. --- And silence is sometimes the loudest confession. --- A tear escaped down Amara's cheek. --- Three years. --- Three years of loving a man who belonged to someone else. --- Three years of trying to win a battle she had already lost before it began.

"He wants to go back." "I'd like that." "He especially wants to see the volcano again." "I had a feeling." The conversation settled into silence. It wasn't awkward anymore. That realization caught Mara off guard. Once upon a time, silence between them had been unbearable. During the final months of their marriage, silence had been full of things neither of them wanted to say. Now... Now it simply existed. Comfortably. Peacefully. Neither of them rushed to fill it. Finally Damien spoke. "He said it without thinking."