Neglect Begins

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting golden rays across the bedroom. Elena rolled over, reaching for Liam's side of the bed, only to find it cold and empty. Her heart sank. He must've left early again.

She glanced at the clock. 9:30 a.m. It was her birthday.

For a moment, she lay there, trying to push away the pang of disappointment. He's busy. It's just another day. No big deal. But a whisper of hope lingered, reminding her of how he used to surprise her with breakfast in bed, with flowers and a card that always made her cry.

She shook off the thought and forced herself out of bed. There were dishes to wash, laundry to fold, and the grocery list to finalize. She moved through the house mechanically, trying to stay busy, trying not to notice how quiet it was.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, and she grabbed it eagerly, her heart fluttering. But it was just a message from her mother.

Happy Birthday, sweetheart! I hope Liam has something special planned for you. We love you!

Elena's chest tightened. She typed a quick reply, forcing a smile even though no one could see her.

Thanks, Mom. I love you too.

She put the phone down and stared at it, willing it to light up with a text from Liam, some sign that he remembered. But the screen remained dark.

Hours passed. The day dragged on, each minute heavier than the last. Elena made herself a small lunch, eating alone at the kitchen table. She checked her phone again. Still nothing.

By evening, she was a bundle of nerves, pacing the living room as the clock ticked past six. Surely, he'd come home soon. Surely, he'd remember.

At seven-thirty, the front door finally opened. Liam walked in, his shoulders slumped, his tie loose around his neck. He looked exhausted.

Elena's heart leaped. "Hey!" she said, her voice too bright. "I was starting to think you got lost on the way home."

Liam offered a tired smile. "Yeah, sorry. Long day. The investor meeting ran late, and then I had to catch up on emails. I'm beat."

Elena's hope wavered. "Oh... yeah. Of course." She hesitated, waiting, watching his face, searching for a flicker of realization. But his eyes were glazed with fatigue, his mind clearly elsewhere.

"I'm starving," he muttered, heading to the kitchen. "Is there anything to eat?"

Elena swallowed the lump in her throat. "I... I made lasagna."

His face lit up, just a little. "Awesome. You're the best."

He didn't notice the way her shoulders drooped, the way her fingers trembled as she reheated his dinner. He didn't see the tears she blinked away when he thanked her and started eating, oblivious to the empty chair beside him.

Elena sat on the couch, her knees pulled to her chest, her eyes fixed on the flickering candle she had set on the table—one lonely flame surrounded by untouched plates.

She had imagined tonight differently. She had dressed up, curled her hair, and put on the necklace Liam had given her for their first anniversary. She had waited by the window, excitement bubbling inside her, thinking he might come home with flowers, maybe a cake.

But the flowers never came. The cake never came. He didn't even remember.

Elena hugged herself, her chest aching. It's just one day. He's busy. He's working hard for us. This doesn't mean he doesn't care.

But the excuses were starting to sound hollow, even to her own ears.

After dinner, Liam collapsed on the couch, his eyes glued to his laptop, fingers flying over the keys. Elena sat beside him, her presence unnoticed, her words swallowed by his silence.

Hours passed, the clock ticking relentlessly. At midnight, Liam finally closed his laptop, his head falling back against the couch. "God, I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed. You coming?"

Elena opened her mouth, the words caught in her throat. Do you even know what today was? But she stayed silent, nodding weakly. "Yeah... I'm right behind you."

She watched him walk away, the weight of his indifference pressing down on her. When he was gone, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled note, her own handwriting staring back at her.

Don't forget: Elena's birthday.

She had slipped it into his briefcase three days ago, hoping to remind him without seeming needy. But he hadn't seen it. Or maybe he had... and just didn't care.

Elena sank onto the couch, tears streaming down her face. She sat there, alone in the dark, the candle flickering until it finally went out.

She realized then that she was mourning more than just a forgotten birthday. She was mourning the man she thought she married—the man who used to look at her like she was his whole world.

Where did he go?

Days passed, and the weight of Liam's indifference grew heavier. Elena found herself staring at her phone, rereading old text messages filled with sweet words and playful emojis. I miss the way he used to be, she thought, her heart aching at the memories.

She tried to push away her doubts, telling herself it was just a rough patch. But each time she heard him laugh on the phone with his colleagues, each time he cancelled their dinner plans for another late night at the office, the hollow feeling in her chest deepened.

One evening, she decided to try again. She dressed up, wearing the red dress he once said made her look "irresistible." She prepared his favorite meal—grilled salmon with roasted vegetables—and set the table with candles and soft music.

He'll notice. He has to.

But the hours ticked by, and the candles burned low. When Liam finally walked through the door, his tie askew and his shoulders sagging, he barely looked up.

"Hey," Elena greeted, forcing cheer into her voice. "You're home! I made dinner."

Liam's eyes flicked to the table, his expression blank. "I already ate at the office. Sorry, I should've texted."

Elena's heart sank. "Oh... that's okay. I just thought... never mind." She bit her lip, swallowing her disappointment.

He leaned in, pecking her on the cheek—a quick, distracted gesture. "Thanks, babe. I'm gonna hit the shower. It's been a long day."

As he walked away, Elena stood motionless, staring at the untouched plates, the melting candles. She wanted to scream, to cry, to demand he see her, really see her. But she stayed silent, retreating to the kitchen to pack away the leftovers.

Her phone buzzed as she was putting the dishes away. A message from her best friend, Mia.

"Hey! How's married life treating you? Haven't seen you in forever. Let's catch up soon!"

Elena hesitated, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She wanted to tell Mia everything—to spill her worries, her fears, her loneliness. But she didn't.

"Everything's great! Just busy. Let's grab lunch next week!"

She sent the lie, feeling the weight of it settle on her chest.

She went to bed alone that night, Liam still in his office, his laptop illuminating his face in the dark. He didn't look up when she whispered, "Goodnight."

The days blended together, each one a repeat of the last. Liam grew more distant, his presence in their home merely a shadow. He was always too tired, too busy, too distracted.

Elena threw herself into the role of the perfect wife—cooking, cleaning, supporting his career. But no matter how hard she tried, no matter how many sacrifices she made, it never seemed to be enough.

One evening, she finally worked up the courage to talk to him. She found him in the living room, his laptop balanced on his knees.

"Liam?" Her voice was hesitant.

He didn't look up. "Yeah?"

She took a deep breath, her hands twisting nervously. "Do you... do you still love me?"

His head snapped up, his eyes wide. "What? Of course, I do. Why would you even ask that?"

Elena's throat tightened. "I don't know... You're just... so distant lately. I feel like I don't even exist to you anymore."

Liam sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Elena, come on. You know how busy I am. I'm doing all this for us, for our future. Why can't you just understand that?"

Tears pricked her eyes. "I do understand. I just... I miss you. I miss us."

He softened, his shoulders relaxing. "I miss us too. But this is temporary. Once the business is stable, things will go back to normal. Just hang in there a little longer, okay?"

Elena nodded, forcing a smile. "Okay."

But his words felt empty, his promise hollow. How much longer? she wondered, watching him turn back to his laptop. How much longer before I lose him completely?

That night, she lay in bed alone, her heart heavy. She thought about calling her mother, about telling her how lonely she felt. But she knew the conversation would only end in, "We warned you, Elena. We warned you about marrying him."

So she stayed silent, burying her fears deep inside. She told herself to be patient, to trust his words. But doubt crept in, whispering cruel truths she wasn't ready to face.

He's slipping away... and there's nothing you can do to stop it.Tears soaked her pillow, but she didn't make a sound. She had learned to cry quietly. She had learned to suffer in silence.

Days turned into weeks, and Elena found herself slipping into a routine that revolved entirely around Liam's schedule. She would wake up before him, preparing his breakfast just the way he liked—black coffee and toast with avocado. He would eat in a hurry, his eyes never leaving his phone as he answered emails and reviewed reports.

"Have a good day at work," she would say, standing by the door, hoping for a kiss, a smile, a glance—anything to show he still cared.

But most mornings, all she received was a distracted nod as he walked out, his mind already lost in meetings and deadlines.

The house felt bigger without him in it, the silence echoing off the walls. Elena tried to fill the emptiness by keeping herself busy—cleaning, cooking, organizing every corner of their home. She told herself she was being a good wife, that this was her role now. But no matter how spotless the house was, it didn't erase the loneliness.

One afternoon, while folding laundry, Elena's phone buzzed. It was a message from Mia again.

"Hey, seriously, we need to catch up! Miss you, babe!"

Elena's fingers hovered over the screen, guilt tightening her chest. She knew she was avoiding her friends, isolating herself. But how could she face them when her perfect marriage was falling apart? She couldn't bear the pity in their eyes or the inevitable questions.

"I miss you too! Things have just been super busy. Rain check?"

She sent the excuse, hating herself a little more for lying. She missed her friends, missed feeling understood. But Liam was her world now, and she couldn't admit—even to herself—that he was barely in it.

That night, Elena tried again. She made Liam's favorite pasta, lighting candles to create a warm, inviting atmosphere. She wore a soft blue dress he once complimented, her hair cascading in loose waves. She even put on the perfume he bought her for their first anniversary.

But when Liam walked through the door, his expression was tense, his shoulders rigid.

"Hey," Elena greeted softly, stepping closer to kiss him. "Long day?"

He sighed, brushing past her. "You have no idea. I'm exhausted."

Elena's heart sank, but she forced herself to stay cheerful. "I made your favorite—carbonara. Come eat while it's hot."

Liam shook his head, dropping his briefcase on the couch. "I grabbed something on the way home. Not really hungry."

Elena's face fell. "Oh... okay." She watched as he loosened his tie, his eyes glazed with fatigue.

"You shouldn't have waited up," he mumbled, his voice distant. "I'm just gonna crash early."

And just like that, he disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Elena standing alone in the beautifully set dining room. The candles flickered, their light mocking her efforts.

She sat down at the table, staring at the untouched plates, her appetite gone. The silence was suffocating. Why can't he see me? Why doesn't he care?

The tears came before she could stop them, hot and bitter. She wiped them away quickly, scolding herself for being weak. She didn't want to be the nagging wife, the needy woman who couldn't understand his ambitions.

But she was breaking. She could feel it in every hollow breath, every lonely heartbeat.

Elena cleared the plates, wrapping the leftovers carefully. She cleaned the kitchen methodically, her movements robotic. When everything was spotless again, she stood in the darkened room, her reflection staring back at her from the window.

She looked lost.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, and she rushed to grab it, her heart foolishly hoping it was Liam, maybe apologizing or saying goodnight.

But it wasn't. It was a message from her mother.

"Elena, are you okay? We haven't heard from you in a while. I'm worried."

She hesitated, her fingers trembling. She wanted to pour everything out, to tell her mother how lonely she felt, how she didn't recognize her life anymore. But she knew the response she'd get: "We told you, honey. We told you he wouldn't make you happy."

Elena couldn't bear to hear it, couldn't face the shame of being wrong. She had fought so hard to defend her love for Liam, to prove to everyone that they were meant to be.

So she typed back a quick reply.

"I'm fine, Mom. Just busy. Love you."

She set the phone down, feeling the weight of her lies pressing on her chest. She was shutting out everyone who cared about her, building walls she didn't know how to break.

Quietly, she turned off the lights and went to the bedroom. Liam was already asleep, his back turned to her, his breathing steady and even.

Elena climbed into bed, lying stiffly on her side, her back facing his. She wanted to reach out, to touch his shoulder, to feel his warmth. But she was terrified he would pull away.

She stared into the darkness, her heart aching with longing. Doesn't he see what he's doing to me? To us?

But Liam's breathing remained steady, his dreams taking him far away from her.

Elena's eyes burned with tears, but she kept them silent. She had become good at that—suffering quietly, fading into the background.

As she drifted off to sleep, her last thought was a whispered plea. Please come back to me...

That nigh she found herself moving through life like a ghost, unseen and unheard. She became an expert at masking her pain, her smile polished and flawless whenever Liam was around. But it was growing harder to pretend, especially when he barely looked at her anymore.

The mornings were the worst. She would wake up alone, the bed cold and empty on his side. Liam had started leaving before sunrise, his work hours stretching longer and longer. At first, he would at least leave a note—Early meeting. See you tonight. But even that stopped.

Elena was losing him piece by piece, and he didn't even notice.

One evening, she tried again. She set up a cozy movie night, complete with popcorn and their favorite drinks. She even picked out the movie they watched on their first date, hoping it would spark a memory, a feeling, anything.

When Liam finally walked through the door, exhaustion was etched into his features. His tie was loosened, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Hey, babe," Elena greeted, her voice laced with hope. "I thought we could relax tonight. Movie and popcorn?"

Liam's eyes flickered to the setup, but his expression didn't change. "I'm exhausted, Elena. I just want to shower and crash."

Her heart sank, but she forced a smile. "Of course. We can watch it another time."

He nodded absently, already moving toward the bedroom. "Yeah... another time."

Elena watched him go, her chest tightening. Another time, he said, but she knew it was a promise he wouldn't keep.

She sat on the couch, the movie playing to an empty room, the flickering screen a cruel reminder of how far they had drifted apart.

The next morning, Elena decided she needed to talk to him, to tell him how she was feeling. She couldn't keep pretending everything was fine. She waited until breakfast, determined to have a real conversation.

Liam sat at the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone as he sipped his coffee. Elena took a deep breath, her heart pounding.

"Liam, can we talk?"

He glanced up, his eyes distracted. "Sure. What's up?"

"I... I miss you," she admitted, her voice trembling. "You're always working. I feel like we never spend time together anymore."

He sighed, rubbing his temple. "Elena, we've talked about this. I'm doing this for us, for our future."

"I know," she said quickly, not wanting to sound ungrateful. "I appreciate how hard you work. But... I need you too. I miss us."

Liam's shoulders tensed. "Elena, I'm exhausted. I don't have the energy to argue about this right now."

"I'm not trying to argue. I just... I just want you to see me." Her voice cracked, her vulnerability laid bare.

His jaw clenched, his eyes flicking back to his phone. "I see you. I'm just busy. Why can't you understand that?"

Elena's heart shattered. His words were cold, detached, as if her feelings were nothing more than an inconvenience.

She stood there, her chest tightening, the air heavy with words she couldn't bring herself to say. Finally, she whispered, "I understand."

Liam didn't look up as she turned away, his fingers tapping on his phone screen.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Elena moved through her chores mechanically, her mind replaying their conversation over and over. She wondered if she was asking for too much, if she was the one being unreasonable.

By evening, she was exhausted—emotionally, mentally, and physically. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the silence suffocating.

Then she heard the front door open. Liam's footsteps were soft, almost hesitant. Elena closed her eyes, her heart racing. Would he come in and apologize? Would he hold her like he used to?

But the bedroom door never opened. Instead, she heard his muffled voice, talking on the phone.

Curiosity got the better of her. She quietly slipped out of bed and moved toward the hallway, keeping to the shadows. His voice grew clearer, his tone light and relaxed.

"Yeah, work's been crazy... I know, I miss hanging out too... Maybe next week?"

Elena's stomach twisted. Who was he talking to? She pressed herself against the wall, listening as he continued.

"I can't wait. It'll be good to catch up." He laughed softly, the sound cutting through Elena like a knife. "You always know how to cheer me up."

Her chest tightened, her breath catching in her throat. Who was making him laugh like that? Who was he confiding in when he barely spoke to her anymore?

She stepped back, her heart pounding. She wanted to confront him, to demand answers. But fear held her back. She was terrified of what she might hear, of the truth that could shatter what was left of her heart.

Elena slipped back into the bedroom, crawling under the covers as silent tears rolled down her face. She didn't sleep that night, her mind racing with doubts and fears.

Was she losing him? Or had she already lost him?

The next morning, Liam was gone before she woke up, his side of the bed cold and empty. Elena stared at the imprint his body had left on the sheets, a hollow ache blooming in her chest.

She realized she was mourning something she couldn't even name, a love slipping through her fingers like sand.

Then days blurred together, each one a reminder of how distant Liam had become. Elena tried everything to reach him—surprise lunches at his office, late-night dinners, heartfelt notes slipped into his briefcase—but nothing worked. His smiles were hollow, his eyes always somewhere else.

One evening, she decided to surprise him at work again, hoping maybe they could have dinner together. She spent hours preparing his favorite meal, carefully packing it into a container. Her heart raced as she drove to his office, clinging to the hope that maybe tonight would be different.

When she arrived, the building was mostly dark, except for the faint light coming from his office window. She took a deep breath and made her way up, her footsteps echoing down the empty hallway.

As she reached his door, she paused, her hand hovering over the doorknob. Laughter drifted through the crack, light and melodic. A woman's laugh.Elena's heart sank. Her fingers trembled as she slowly pushed the door open, peeking inside.

Liam was leaning back in his chair, his tie loosened, his posture relaxed. Across from him sat a woman, her legs crossed, her hair falling perfectly over her shoulders. She was laughing, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him.

Elena's stomach twisted. The woman was beautiful—effortlessly so. She recognized her as Nicole, Liam's new assistant.

For a moment, Elena stood frozen, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing. She watched as Nicole reached out, her fingers lightly brushing Liam's arm, lingering just a little too long. He didn't pull away. Instead, he smiled, his eyes warm and familiar—the way he used to look at her.

The container slipped from Elena's fingers, crashing to the floor. The sound echoed, shattering the moment.

Liam's head snapped up, his eyes widening. "Elena?"

Nicole's smile faded, her gaze flicking between them. "Oh... I didn't realize you were married."

Elena's throat tightened, her heart pounding. She felt exposed, vulnerable, like she had walked into someone else's life.

Liam quickly stood, his face flushed. "Elena, I... I didn't expect you."

She forced a smile, her voice shaking. "I just... I brought you dinner." Her eyes fell to the scattered container, food smeared across the floor. "I... I'll clean it up."

"No, don't," Liam said, his tone sharp. "I'll take care of it."

Nicole stood, gathering her things. "I should get going. Thanks for the help, Liam." Her voice was casual, unaffected, as if Elena was nothing more than an interruption.

Liam nodded, his jaw tight. "Yeah... thanks, Nicole."

She walked past Elena without another word, her heels clicking against the floor.

Silence hung heavy in the room as the door closed behind her. Elena's chest ached, her eyes burning. "You didn't tell her about me."

Liam ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident. "Elena, it's not like that. We were just working late, that's all."

"Working late?" She laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. "That's why she was touching you?"

His eyes narrowed. "Don't start, Elena. I don't need this right now. I'm exhausted."

Her heart fractured, his words slicing through her. "You're always exhausted. Too tired to spend time with me, but not too tired to laugh with her."

He looked away, his shoulders tense. "I'm under a lot of pressure at work. Nicole helps with that. She understands."

The words felt like a slap. "She understands? And I don't?"

"That's not what I meant." His voice softened, his eyes finally meeting hers. "Elena... it's just work. She's just my assistant."

"Then why didn't you tell her you were married?" Her voice cracked, her vulnerability laid bare. "Why does she look at you like... like she's more than that?"

Liam's face hardened. "I don't have to explain myself to you. You're being paranoid."

Elena's vision blurred with tears. "I'm not paranoid, Liam. I'm lonely. I'm losing you, and you don't even care."

His jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. "I don't have time for this. Not tonight."

He turned away, his body rigid as he began cleaning up the spilled food. Elena stood there, shattered, watching as he swept away the remnants of her effort, her love.

She felt like she was crumbling, piece by piece, and he was too busy to notice.

Without another word, she turned and walked out, her footsteps echoing down the cold, empty hallway.

The drive home was a blur, her vision clouded by tears she couldn't hold back. She felt humiliated, betrayed, and yet... she still loved him.

But love wasn't supposed to feel like this.

She pulled into the driveway, her hands gripping the steering wheel, her body shaking. The house loomed before her, dark and empty, just like her marriage.

Elena closed her eyes, her shoulders trembling as the first sob broke free. She cried for what they used to be, for the dreams she had believed in, and for the woman she was losing—the woman she used to be before she became just another shadow in Liam's life.

Inside, the house was cold, silent. She walked through the rooms, each one a reminder of happier times. She passed their wedding photo on the mantel, their smiles frozen in time, oblivious to the pain that would follow.

She wanted to smash it, to shatter the lie, but her fingers couldn't touch it. She was still holding on, still hoping for a miracle.

But as she stood alone in the darkness, Elena realized that hope was the cruelest illusion of all.