Humilation

The house was buzzing with laughter and conversation as the family gathered in the grand living room, chandeliers casting warm light over polished mahogany furniture. Elena stood by Liam's side, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, a practiced smile on her face. She had perfected the art of looking happy, even when she felt like she was falling apart inside.

Liam's mother, Eleanor, was in her element, gracefully moving from guest to guest, her voice dripping with charm and elegance. She was the perfect hostess, flawless and poised, a woman who commanded respect. Elena had always admired her... until she realized that Eleanor's grace was a mask for cruelty.

"Ah, Elena," Eleanor's voice cut through the room, drawing everyone's attention. "You've been married to my Liam for a while now, haven't you?" Her smile was sweet, but her eyes gleamed with something sharp, something calculated.

Elena's heart skipped, her instincts telling her to brace herself. "Yes, almost two years," she answered, her voice steady, even as her palms grew clammy.

Eleanor's eyes gleamed. "Two years, yes... such a long time." She paused, letting the silence hang, letting everyone lean in to listen. "So, when can we expect to hear good news?"

Elena felt the blood drain from her face. She forced a smile, her fingers twisting together. "We're just... taking things one step at a time."

Eleanor's laughter was light, musical, but it held no warmth. "One step at a time? That's just another way of saying you're wasting time, dear." She looked around the room, her gaze inviting the others to join in her amusement. "A woman's purpose is to build a family, isn't it? Isn't that what you promised when you married my son?"

Heat crept up Elena's neck, her pulse quickening. She could feel the stares, hear the murmurs. Her chest tightened, the walls closing in.

She looked at Liam, silently begging him to say something, anything. But he simply stood there, his jaw tight, his eyes fixed on his shoes. He didn't move, didn't defend her.

Eleanor's smile widened. "Maybe you're just not ready for the responsibility." Her voice softened, dripping with mock concern. "Or maybe... maybe you're too focused on other things. You know, Liam always did need a woman who could support him fully, who could give him everything he deserves."

Elena's eyes stung. She could feel the tears threatening, the humiliation burning her cheeks. She swallowed hard, forcing them back, refusing to break in front of them.

Liam's sister, Victoria, chimed in, her voice casual but her words cutting. "Honestly, Elena, if you're not ready to start a family, why did you marry him? Liam's always wanted kids. He deserves a wife who shares his dreams."

The air grew heavy, crushing her beneath the weight of their judgment. Elena's vision blurred, her head spinning. She wanted to scream, to shout that it wasn't her fault, that she wanted a family too, but... the words wouldn't come. She couldn't speak.

Eleanor's voice was the final blow. "Well, I suppose some women just aren't meant to be mothers." She turned away, dismissing Elena like she was nothing, like she was invisible.

The room moved on, the conversation shifting, laughter and chatter resuming as if nothing had happened. But Elena stood frozen, her heart shattered, her soul bruised. She felt exposed, raw, like every insecurity she'd ever had was laid bare for them to see.

She looked at Liam again, searching his face for any sign of loyalty, of love. But he wouldn't meet her eyes. He was silent, indifferent, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders tense. He didn't comfort her, didn't defend her.

A tear slipped free, and she quickly turned away, pretending to adjust her hair. She wouldn't let them see her cry. She wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

As the evening dragged on, Elena stayed in the background, her laughter hollow, her smiles forced. She played the part of the perfect wife, the dutiful daughter-in-law, even as her heart bled.

When they finally left, the car ride was silent. Liam gripped the steering wheel, his jaw clenched, his eyes focused on the road.

Elena stared out the window, her reflection distorted against the glass. She wanted to scream, to ask him why he hadn't defended her, why he had let his family humiliate her. But her throat was tight, the words stuck.

They arrived home, the house dark and cold. Liam walked inside without a word, his shoulders hunched.

Elena stood in the doorway, the silence pressing in on her. She felt like a ghost, unseen, unheard. She wanted to call out to him, to reach for him, but he was already gone, lost in his own world, a world she couldn't enter.

She sank to the floor, her body trembling, the tears finally escaping. She covered her mouth, muffling her sobs, not wanting him to hear, not wanting him to know how deeply he'd hurt her.

Because despite everything, she still loved him. She still believed in the man she had married, the man who once looked at her like she was his whole world.

But that man was gone. And she was left loving a shadow.

Elena cried alone, her dreams crumbling, her heart breaking. She had given everything for this marriage, sacrificed herself piece by piece. And yet, it was never enough.

She was never enough.

Elena remained on the cold tile floor, her sobs echoing softly through the empty hallway. She clutched her knees to her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The weight of Eleanor's words sat heavy on her, each one a thorn digging into her already fragile heart.

Minutes, or perhaps hours, passed before she finally stood, her legs shaky beneath her. She wiped her tear-streaked face, her fingers trembling. The house was still, only the hum of the refrigerator breaking the silence.

She moved like a ghost through the dimly lit house, her feet carrying her to the kitchen. She filled a glass of water, her hands shaking so badly that droplets spilled over the edge, splashing onto the marble counter. She forced herself to drink, the coolness a small comfort against the rawness in her throat.

Her mind replayed the evening in sharp, brutal detail. Every smirk, every condescending word, every glance that reduced her to nothing. And Liam—his silence, his absence, the way he had simply let her drown.

She heard the soft creak of the bedroom door and turned to find Liam standing in the doorway, his silhouette dark against the hallway light. His expression was unreadable, his features cast in shadow.

"Are you just going to stay up all night?" His voice was flat, devoid of warmth.

Elena set the glass down with a soft clink. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He blinked, his brow furrowing. "About what?"

"About what your mother said," she whispered. "About how she... humiliated me. How she made me feel like—like I'm nothing."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Elena, it wasn't that serious. She was just making conversation."

Her lips parted, disbelief washing over her. "Conversation? She practically told everyone that I'm a failure as a wife, that I'm not good enough for you."

"You're overreacting," he muttered, already turning away.Her fingers curled into fists. "I'm overreacting? Liam, I've stood by you through everything. I've given up so much for this marriage—for you. And when I needed you tonight, you said nothing."

He paused, his shoulders tense. "What do you want me to say, Elena? My family has expectations. They want us to start a family too. It's not just them. It's me."

Her heart twisted. "Is that what this is about? That I haven't gotten pregnant yet?"

He didn't answer, and the silence spoke louder than words.

Tears brimmed in her eyes again, but this time they burned with anger. "I've been trying, Liam. I've been doing everything I can. But you—you barely touch me. You don't look at me the way you used to. How am I supposed to give you a child when I feel like a stranger in my own marriage?"

His jaw tightened. "This is exactly why I didn't say anything earlier. You always blow things out of proportion."

Elena stared at him, a cold realization settling over her. "You think this is my fault. You think I'm the reason things aren't working."

Liam didn't respond, and that silence was the sharpest betrayal of all.

Her shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her. "I can't do this, Liam. I can't keep pretending everything is fine when you won't even stand by me."

He finally looked at her, his expression hard. "Maybe if you tried a little harder, my family wouldn't have anything to criticize."

The words landed like a slap. She felt the sting, the heat rising to her cheeks. Her world tilted, the room spinning. She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came. There was nothing left to say.

Without another word, Liam turned and disappeared into the bedroom, leaving her alone in the dim light.

Elena stood there, her hands braced against the counter, the coolness of the marble grounding her. She closed her eyes, drawing in a shaky breath.

This wasn't love. It couldn't be.

Love wasn't supposed to feel like this—like being lost at sea, like drowning in the very place that was meant to keep you safe.

She wandered into the guest bedroom, pulling a blanket around her shoulders. The bed felt too big, too cold. She stared at the ceiling, the events of the evening playing in an endless loop.

Her mind whispered cruel truths—You're not enough. You'll never be enough.

But somewhere, beneath the layers of hurt, a tiny voice fought back.

You deserve more than this.

Elena drifted into a restless sleep, her dreams haunted by shadows and echoes of laughter. And as dawn crept through the window, she lay awake, staring at the pale light.

Her heart was bruised, her soul weary. But beneath the weight of it all, a spark remained—small, but burning.

She wasn't ready to give up yet. But she was done being silent.

And in the quiet of that new morning, a promise formed in her heart.

She would find her voice again. Even if it meant breaking her own heart to do it.

The morning sun crept through the blinds, casting pale lines across the floor. Elena lay motionless, her body heavy with exhaustion. Sleep had been elusive, her mind replaying the events of the night before. Every word, every condescending look, every moment Liam had stood by in silence—it all echoed within her, hollowing her out.

She finally dragged herself out of bed, her muscles aching as if she had run a marathon. The house was quiet, the air heavy. She moved mechanically, her mind numb, her heart bruised. In the kitchen, she found Liam at the table, scrolling through his phone with his usual nonchalance.

For a moment, she watched him, trying to reconcile the man she had married with the stranger sitting before her. How had they drifted so far apart?

He looked up, his face expressionless. "You slept in the guest room."

She didn't respond, her fingers tightening on the coffee mug she had just pulled from the cabinet. She poured herself a cup, the warmth seeping into her hands, grounding her.

"I figured you'd be mad," he continued, his tone casual, as if they were discussing the weather. "But I didn't think you'd be that upset."

Her jaw clenched. She took a sip, the bitterness of the coffee a stark contrast to the bitterness in her heart. "I was humiliated in front of your entire family, Liam. And you stood there. You said nothing."

His eyes flicked back to his phone, his fingers scrolling. "I told you. That's just how they are. You shouldn't take it so personally."

Her grip tightened on the mug, her knuckles turning white. "How am I supposed to take it, then? Your mother all but called me useless. She made me feel like... like I don't belong in this family."He sighed, setting his phone down. "Look, they have expectations. They want us to have kids. They're old-fashioned. It's not worth fighting about."

"It's worth fighting about when I'm the one getting torn apart," she snapped, her voice trembling. "I've given up so much for you, for this marriage. And you can't even defend me?"

His expression hardened. "I'm not going to start a fight with my mother. I pick my battles, Elena. Maybe you should learn to do the same."

She recoiled as if he had slapped her, the sting of his words sharp and cutting. "So that's it? I'm supposed to just accept this? Let them walk all over me?"

His eyes flicked away, his posture tense. "You knew how they were before we got married. You knew what you were getting into."

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Elena's chest tightened, a cold ache spreading through her. "I thought you'd stand by me," she whispered. "I thought you'd protect me."

He pushed back from the table, his chair scraping against the floor. "I can't keep fighting your battles for you, Elena. Grow up."

He left the room, his footsteps fading down the hall.

Elena sank into a chair, her body trembling. His words reverberated through her, cruel and dismissive. She blinked back tears, staring at the steaming cup of coffee in her hands. It felt so warm, so grounding, but she felt anything but steady.

Her phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a message from her mother. "How was the family dinner? Hope you had fun!"

Her fingers hovered over the screen, the lie forming on her tongue. She wanted to tell her mother that everything was fine, that her marriage was perfect, that she was happy. But the words wouldn't come.

Her chest tightened, the weight of her secrets pressing down on her. She was tired—tired of pretending, tired of smiling through the pain, tired of being invisible.

She stood up, her movements slow, methodical. She showered, the hot water washing away her tears. She dressed, choosing an outfit that felt like armor, something to protect her from the harsh world outside.

But no amount of fabric could shield her from the coldness in her husband's eyes.

She found him in the living room, his phone still glued to his hand. She watched him, waiting for him to look up, to acknowledge her. But he didn't.

The silence stretched between them, wide and gaping. She wanted to bridge the gap, to reach out and touch him, to find the man she had fallen in love with. But fear held her back, fear of being rejected again, of being told she was overreacting.

He finally looked up, his eyes tired. "I have a meeting. I'll be back late."

Her heart sank. "Liam... we need to talk about this."

His expression hardened. "I don't have time for this, Elena. I've got more important things to deal with."

He grabbed his keys and walked out the door, leaving her standing in the empty room.

The silence was deafening.

Elena sank onto the couch, her body heavy. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold the pieces together. But they were slipping through her fingers, crumbling like sand.

She thought of the woman she used to be—the woman who laughed easily, who believed in love, who dreamed of a life filled with joy and companionship.

That woman was fading, lost beneath layers of pain and disappointment.

Elena closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the couch. She was exhausted, her heart heavy.

But somewhere deep inside, a flicker of anger sparked. Anger at Liam, at his family, at herself for letting it get this far.

She opened her eyes, her gaze hardening. She was done being invisible.

If Liam wasn't going to fight for her, then she would fight for herself.

Even if it meant facing the harsh truth she had been avoiding.

Her marriage was falling apart. And she was the only one trying to save it.

The weight of that night still clung to Elena. Every time she looked at Liam, the ache resurfaced. He carried on as if nothing had happened, as if her pain was insignificant, just another trivial matter to brush aside.

Elena tried to fill the silence, cooking his favorite meals, keeping the house spotless, even laughing at his half-hearted jokes. But he remained distant, absorbed in work and meetings, his presence fleeting.

One evening, she gathered the courage to bring it up again, her voice soft but firm. "Liam, we need to talk about what happened at your parents' house."

His eyes flicked up from his laptop, annoyance evident. "Are we seriously still on that? Elena, I told you—let it go."

Her heart clenched, but she pushed on. "I can't just let it go. Your mother humiliated me. And you did nothing. It's not the first time, Liam. I feel like... like I don't belong in your life."

He shut his laptop with a snap, his gaze sharp. "You're overreacting. She's just concerned. You know how she is. Why are you always so sensitive?"

The words cut deep, her throat tightening. "I'm not sensitive. I'm hurt. She made me feel worthless. And you stood there, letting it happen. Do you know how that feels?"

He ran a hand through his hair, his patience fraying. "I'm tired, Elena. I have a lot on my plate. I can't deal with your insecurities right now."

Her breath caught. Insecurities. That's how he saw it. Her pain, her struggle—they were just inconveniences to him.

She swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. "Is that what you think? That I'm just being insecure?"

He looked away, his jaw tight. "I don't have time for this." He stood up, grabbing his keys. "I'm heading to the office. Don't wait up."

Before she could say another word, the door slammed shut, the echo reverberating through the empty house.

Elena sank onto the couch, her body trembling. Her chest felt heavy, her heart aching. She was losing him—no, she had already lost him. And he didn't seem to care.

Her phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with a message from her best friend, Mia. "Hey, just checking in. How's married life treating you?"

Elena's fingers hovered over the screen, her mind racing. Should she tell Mia the truth? Should she admit that her perfect life was crumbling?

But shame held her back. She had painted a picture of happiness, of love and fulfillment. She had boasted about her dream wedding, her perfect husband. She couldn't admit that it was all a lie.

Her fingers moved on their own, typing a response. "Everything's great! Just busy with life. Let's catch up soon!"

The lie felt heavy, a stone in her chest. But it was easier than admitting the truth.

She set the phone down, her shoulders slumping. The house was too quiet, too empty. She wandered into the kitchen, aimlessly moving things around, trying to distract herself. But her mind kept replaying Liam's cold words, his indifferent gaze.

She found herself standing in front of their wedding photo, her fingers brushing against the glass. They looked so happy, so in love. She had believed in that love, had built her life around it.

But the woman in that photo felt like a stranger now. That version of her was naïve, hopeful, blind to the cracks forming beneath the surface.

A tear slid down her cheek, her chest tightening. She missed that woman—the one who believed in happy endings, in unconditional love.

She missed the man Liam used to be, the one who looked at her like she was his whole world.

But that man was gone, replaced by someone she didn't recognize. Someone who made her feel small, insignificant.

Her phone buzzed again, breaking her out of her thoughts. This time, it was Liam. "Working late. Don't wait up."

Three words. Three cold, distant words. That was all she got from him now.

Elena felt a shiver run through her, her chest aching. She was losing him, piece by piece. And she didn't know how to hold on.

She sank to the floor, her back against the wall, her arms wrapping around herself. The tears came, slow and silent, slipping down her face. She cried for the love she had lost, for the woman she used to be.

For the marriage she was desperately trying to save.

But deep down, she knew she was fighting a losing battle.

Because love wasn't supposed to feel this lonely.

The days that followed were suffocating. Elena went through the motions—cooking, cleaning, and pretending everything was normal. But the walls felt like they were closing in, each room echoing with memories of a happier time.

Liam barely came home. When he did, his presence was hollow. He greeted her with a peck on the cheek, his mind elsewhere, his phone always buzzing. Conversations were short, forced, and drained of any warmth.

One evening, as she was setting the table for dinner, her phone buzzed with a message from Mia. "Hey, are you free tomorrow? I miss you!"

Elena stared at the screen, her chest tightening. She wanted to say no, to hide from the world. But she needed an escape, a moment to breathe.

"Yeah, let's meet up. Usual spot?" she replied."Perfect! Can't wait!"

The next day, Elena walked into the cozy café where she and Mia always met. The aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries was comforting, a brief reprieve from her crumbling life.

Mia waved from the corner booth, her smile bright. "Elena! Over here!"

Elena forced a smile, masking the exhaustion that weighed her down. "Hey, Mia."

As they settled in, Mia's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Okay, spill it. How's married life? You're glowing!"

Elena's throat tightened, the lie heavy on her tongue. "Oh, you know... busy. Liam's been working a lot, but we're good."

Mia's brow furrowed. "He's still working late? Geez, when does he even see you?"

Elena shrugged, forcing a laugh. "He's just dedicated. It's fine. I keep myself busy."

Mia's eyes softened. "I don't know how you do it. If it were me, I'd be demanding date nights. You deserve to feel special, Elena."

The words hit Elena like a punch. She used to feel special. Once upon a time, Liam had made her feel like she was the center of his universe. But that felt like a distant memory now.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, plastering on another fake smile. "We make it work."

Mia leaned in, lowering her voice. "By the way, I heard something interesting... Did you know Liam's ex is back in town?"

Elena's heart skipped a beat, her fingers tightening around her cup. "W-what?"

Mia nodded, oblivious to Elena's shock. "Yeah, I saw her at that new lounge downtown. I thought it was weird, but maybe it's nothing. Just thought you should know."

Elena forced herself to breathe, her mind spinning. She knew they were still in contact, but she had convinced herself it was harmless. Did Liam know she was back? Had he seen her?

"Elena? You okay?" Mia's voice was laced with concern.

Elena snapped out of her daze, forcing a nod. "Yeah, just... surprised. I didn't know."

Mia watched her closely, her eyes narrowing. "Are you sure everything's okay? You seem... off."

Elena's smile wavered, her defenses cracking. She wanted to tell Mia everything—to spill her fears, her doubts, her loneliness. But the shame was suffocating. She had painted this picture of a perfect marriage, of a fairytale love story. How could she admit that it was all a lie?

"I'm fine," she lied, her voice hollow. "Just tired, that's all."

Mia didn't look convinced, but she let it go. "Alright. But if you ever need to talk... I'm here, okay?"

Elena's eyes stung with unshed tears. "Thanks, Mia. That means a lot."

They finished their coffee, making light conversation about work and old memories. But Elena's mind was miles away, tangled in doubts and fears.

That night, she waited for Liam to come home, her heart pounding. When he finally walked through the door, she tried to keep her voice steady. "Liam, can we talk?"

He barely looked up, tossing his keys on the table. "Can it wait? I'm exhausted."

Her chest tightened, but she pushed on. "I heard... I heard your ex is back in town."

His shoulders stiffened, his eyes flicking to hers. "Yeah. So?"

Elena's breath caught. "So... were you going to tell me?"

He shrugged, his face unreadable. "I didn't think it mattered. It's not a big deal, Elena."

Her hands trembled, anger bubbling beneath the surface. "Not a big deal? You've been talking to her for months. And now she's here. In the same city. You don't think I deserve to know that?"

Liam's jaw tightened, his eyes cold. "You're overreacting. Nothing's going on. I've been honest with you."

Elena's voice wavered. "Honest? You never even mentioned she was back. How is that honest?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't have time for this."

He turned to leave, but Elena grabbed his arm, desperation in her voice. "Liam, please. I need you to talk to me. To be honest with me. I'm trying to trust you, but you keep shutting me out."

His eyes softened for a moment, but then his expression hardened. "I don't owe you an explanation for every little thing, Elena. You need to stop being so insecure."

Her heart shattered, his words cutting deep. He pulled his arm away, his voice cold. "I'm done with this conversation."

He walked away, leaving Elena standing alone, her body trembling.

The door to his office slammed shut, the echo ringing in her ears.

She sank to the floor, her knees hitting the cold tiles, tears streaming down her face.

She had never felt so alone.

In that moment, she realized that she was fighting for a marriage that was slipping through her fingers.

And the man she loved was already gone.