Signs

The house was quiet, save for the faint hum of the dishwasher and the ticking of the clock on the wall. Elena had been folding laundry in the bedroom when she heard Liam's voice downstairs. She hadn't even realized he was home yet.

At first, she thought he was on a work call—until she heard her name.

Curiosity gnawed at her, but something else—a sinking feeling in her gut—kept her frozen in place. She wasn't the type to eavesdrop, but the softness in Liam's voice, the familiarity in his tone, made her step closer to the stairway.

"Come on, you know that's not true," he murmured, his voice low. "You'll always have a special place in my heart. That hasn't changed."

Elena's stomach dropped.

There was a pause. A soft chuckle. The woman's voice was too quiet for Elena to make out the words, but the tone was unmistakably warm.

Liam sighed. "It's complicated. I—" He hesitated. "I can't just walk away, you know? But I miss… I miss talking like this."

Elena gripped the wooden banister, her nails digging into the polished surface. Her heart pounded against her ribs so loudly she thought he might hear it.

Her mind raced. He had to be talking to her.

She waited, hoping, praying, for him to say something—anything—that would make this misunderstanding go away.

But he didn't.

Instead, he laughed softly at something the woman said, the sound so warm, so easy, so familiar that it twisted in her gut like a knife.

Elena's throat tightened.

She could march downstairs, demand answers, demand the truth. But deep down, she already knew what he would say.

"You're overreacting."

"She's just a friend."

"You're imagining things."

She backed away, her feet moving before she had fully processed what she was doing. Her hands shook as she closed the bedroom door behind her, leaning against it, struggling to catch her breath.

By the time Liam came upstairs, she was sitting on the bed, her face a careful mask.

"Hey," he said, his voice casual, as if nothing had happened. "You okay?"

She swallowed hard. "Who were you talking to?"

Liam froze for half a second—just a flicker of hesitation—before he shrugged. "No one important. Just catching up with an old friend."

Elena forced a smile, even as her chest tightened. "Your ex?"

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, but it's not what you think."

"What do I think?"

"That it's anything more than just a conversation." He met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "It's nothing, Elena. Just old memories. She was just being nostalgic."

Elena held his stare, searching for something—remorse, honesty, anything that could make her feel safe again. But all she saw was dismissal, the same indifference he had shown for months.

And yet, instead of pushing him, instead of demanding more, she said the one thing she thought might bring them closer.

"I think we should invite her over for dinner."

Liam blinked. "What?"

She forced a laugh, though it felt like swallowing glass. "You keep saying it's nothing, that she's just a friend. So why not? It'll show that I trust you."

He hesitated, studying her as if trying to figure out if this was a trap.

Finally, he shrugged. "If that's what you want."

Elena smiled, but inside, she felt like she was standing at the edge of a cliff, waiting for the fall.

She had just invited the one woman who could ruin everything into her home.

And she had no idea if she would survive it.

Elena spent the next morning pretending everything was fine. She cooked, cleaned, and smiled when Liam spoke, as if she hadn't overheard his conversation with his ex. As if she wasn't drowning in doubt.

But beneath the surface, a storm brewed.

She threw herself into preparing for the dinner. If she was going to do this, she would do it perfectly. She picked out the best dishes, polished the silverware, and set the table with candles and fresh flowers—anything to create an environment where she could see things clearly.

"If I look at her, if I hear her talk, maybe I'll understand why he still holds on to her."

The thought made her stomach churn, but she ignored it.

The day of the dinner arrived faster than she expected. By the time the doorbell rang, Elena was already regretting her decision.

Liam greeted his ex with a wide smile, and something inside Elena twisted at the ease between them.

"Elena, this is Bianca," Liam said, stepping aside so the woman could enter.

Bianca was stunning—tall, poised, effortlessly elegant. She carried herself with the kind of confidence that made Elena's insecurities feel like open wounds.

"It's so nice to finally meet you," Bianca said smoothly, stepping forward to hug her. The scent of expensive perfume clung to the air between them.

Elena returned the gesture, her smile tight. "Likewise."

As they moved to the dining room, Elena watched the way Liam's posture softened around Bianca, the way his eyes lit up when she spoke. It wasn't flirtation—at least not outright—but it was familiarity. A kind of ease that Elena hadn't felt with him in months.

Throughout dinner, Bianca laughed at Liam's jokes, touched his arm casually, and recounted stories of their past with nostalgia that made Elena's skin prickle.

"Remember that time in Paris?" Bianca chuckled, taking a sip of wine.

Liam smirked. "How could I forget? That was the trip where—" He stopped himself, glancing at Elena. "Uh, never mind."

Elena tightened her grip on her fork. Never mind?

Bianca just laughed, as if they shared a secret. "It's okay, Liam. I don't think Elena is the jealous type."

Elena smiled, though she felt anything but calm. "Of course not," she said smoothly, taking a sip of her own wine. "After all, the past is the past, right?"

Bianca held her gaze for a moment before nodding. "Right."

But the way she said it, the way Liam looked down at his plate afterward, made Elena feel like the past wasn't as far behind them as she wanted to believe.

The rest of the evening dragged on, with Bianca casually slipping into their conversation as if she belonged. Elena felt like an outsider in her own home, like an observer in a world she was supposed to be part of.

By the time Bianca left, Liam seemed in a good mood, unaware of the quiet rage simmering inside Elena.

"That went well, don't you think?" he asked, stretching as he walked toward the bedroom.

Elena followed, her nails digging into her palms. "She still loves you."

Liam blinked, turning to face her. "What?"

"She still loves you," Elena repeated, her voice sharp. "And I think you love her too."

Liam sighed, rubbing his face. "Elena, don't do this. I told you—it's nothing."

"Then why did you look at her like that?" Her voice cracked. "Like you missed her?"

Liam exhaled. "You're reading too much into things. She's part of my past, but you are my wife. You're the one I chose."

Elena swallowed hard, searching his face for the truth. "Then why do I feel like I'm losing you?"

Liam didn't answer right away. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair, looking exhausted. "I don't know what you want me to say, Elena."

She let out a shaky breath, her heart breaking in ways she couldn't even name.

I want you to fight for me.

I want to believe that I matter more than a memory.

I want to stop feeling like I'm alone in this marriage.But she said none of those things.

Instead, she turned off the bedroom light and climbed into bed, lying stiffly on her side.

Liam sighed but didn't push. He got into bed beside her, but he didn't reach for her, didn't pull her into his arms the way he used to.

And for the first time in their marriage, Elena realized—the distance wasn't just physical anymore.

That night Elana was shook and confused, they will a dinner with Bianca , and it felt heavier. The house, once filled with warmth and laughter, now carried an unspoken tension that neither Elena nor Liam dared to address.

Liam busied himself with work, coming home late, his excuses always the same—long meetings, deadlines, business trips. Elena wanted to believe him, but the seed of doubt had already taken root.

She tried to ignore it.

She threw herself into taking care of their home, making his favorite meals, dressing up before he came home, pretending that everything was fine. But no matter what she did, it felt like she was reaching for something that was slipping further away.

Then, one evening, she found another sign that something was wrong.

Liam's phone buzzed while he was in the shower. Elena glanced at the screen. A message from Bianca.

Bianca: I miss our talks. Call me when you can.

Elena's heart pounded. She knew she shouldn't invade his privacy, but something in her snapped. She picked up the phone, hesitated, then unlocked it using the password she had memorized long ago.

Her stomach clenched as she scrolled through their messages.

Most of them were casual—old friends catching up, as Liam had claimed. But then she saw a message from a week ago, the night after their dinner.

Liam: It was really good seeing you again. I missed you too.

Elena's hands trembled.

I missed you too.

The words blurred on the screen as tears welled in her eyes.

The sound of the shower turning off jolted her back to reality. She locked the phone and placed it exactly where it had been before slipping out of the bedroom.

Her breath came in short gasps as she leaned against the kitchen counter, her mind racing.

She had told herself over and over that she trusted him. That she had no reason to doubt him. That he loved her.

But now, she wasn't so sure.

When Liam entered the kitchen a few minutes later, towel-drying his hair, he smiled at her like nothing was wrong.

"What's for dinner?" he asked, opening the fridge.

Elena watched him carefully, her fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. How easily he acts like nothing has changed.

She forced a smile. "Your favorite. Steak and mashed potatoes."

Liam grinned. "You're the best."

But Elena didn't feel like the best. She felt like a fool. A woman who had sacrificed everything for a man who might still have his heart stuck in the past.

As they sat down to eat, Elena tried to bring it up. "Bianca texted you earlier," she said casually, watching his reaction.

Liam barely looked up. "Yeah? She probably just wants to talk about some work stuff."

Elena swallowed hard. "You two seem close."

Liam finally met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "We're just friends, Elena. You know that."

She wanted to believe him. But the message still echoed in her mind. I missed you too.

So instead of pushing, she smiled and nodded. "Of course."

Elena twirled her fork in the mashed potatoes, her appetite gone. Across the table, Liam ate without a care, oblivious to the storm brewing inside her.

She couldn't take it anymore.

She set her fork down carefully, her fingers tightening around the napkin in her lap. "Liam."

He looked up, chewing, his expression neutral. "Yeah?"

Elena swallowed, keeping her voice even. "How often do you talk to Bianca?"

Liam's chewing slowed for a fraction of a second before he took a sip of water. "Not that often."

Elena tilted her head. "Really? Because she texted you today saying she missed your talks."

A flicker of something crossed Liam's face—surprise, maybe irritation—but he quickly masked it. "Elena, she's just being friendly. Don't read too much into it."

Elena let out a small laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Friendly? I don't tell other men I miss them unless there's something to miss."

Liam sighed, setting his fork down. "Come on, Elena. She's an old friend. We have history, sure, but it's not like that anymore."

Her heart squeezed at his words. We have history.

She took a slow breath, steadying herself. "I saw your message to her, Liam."

His body went rigid. "What?""I saw it," she repeated, her voice softer now. "You told her you missed her too."

Silence fell over the table like a heavy curtain.

Liam's jaw clenched, his eyes flicking away for the briefest moment. When he looked back, his expression was carefully controlled. "You went through my phone?"

Elena let out a bitter laugh. "That's what you're upset about? Not the fact that you're messaging your ex and telling her you miss her?"

Liam exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. "Elena, it's not what you think."

"Then explain it to me," she challenged, her voice laced with hurt. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like my husband still has feelings for another woman."

Liam shook his head. "It's not about feelings. Bianca and I... we were close once. You don't just erase that. But it doesn't mean I don't love you."

Elena stared at him, searching for the man she had married, the man who once promised her the world. But all she saw was someone she no longer recognized.

"Then why didn't you tell me she was back in town?" she asked quietly.

Liam hesitated. Just for a second. But it was enough.

"I didn't think it was important."

Elena felt something inside her crack. "Not important?" She shook her head in disbelief. "You hid it, Liam. You've been texting her behind my back. Do you even realize how that makes me feel?"

Liam pushed back from the table, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd react like this."

Elena's stomach dropped. "Like what?"

"Like I'm cheating, like I'm betraying you, when all I've done is talk to an old friend," he snapped. "Do you hear how crazy that sounds?"

Elena flinched. Crazy. That word echoed in her mind, twisting the pain into something sharper.

"I'm not crazy," she whispered. "I'm your wife. And I don't feel like one anymore."

Liam let out a frustrated sigh, pacing the room. "Elena, I'm exhausted. Work is killing me, my family is always on my case, and now I come home to this?"

She stood, her chair scraping against the floor. "And what about me, Liam? I've sacrificed everything for this marriage! My job, my savings, my happiness—all for you. And you can't even reassure me that I'm not losing you to another woman?"

Liam turned to her, his face tired, distant. "I don't know what you want me to say, Elena."

She swallowed back the tears. "Say that I matter. Say that we matter."

Liam looked at her then—really looked at her. And for a fleeting second, she thought she saw something in his eyes. Guilt? Sadness? But just as quickly, it was gone.

He grabbed his jacket from the chair. "I need some air."

Elena's heart clenched. "Liam—"

But he was already walking out the door, leaving her standing in the empty kitchen, her chest rising and falling in short, shaky breaths.

The door shut behind him, the finality of it echoing through the house.

Elena pressed a hand to her mouth, holding in the sob that threatened to break free.

He walked away. Again.

And this time, she wasn't sure if he was ever coming back.

Elena sat frozen at the kitchen table long after Liam left. The quiet hum of the refrigerator was the only sound in the room, mocking the silence between them. Her hands trembled as she reached for her glass of water, but she barely took a sip before setting it down with a sharp clink.

Her chest felt tight, suffocated by all the words she hadn't been able to say.

She had given up so much—her dreams, her security, her sense of self—all for a man who couldn't even look her in the eye and say she mattered.

The minutes crawled by. An hour. Then two.

Liam still hadn't come back.

Elena clenched her fists against the table, her nails digging into her palms. Where did he go?

Had he gone to see her?

The thought sent a wave of nausea through her.

Her phone sat on the counter, untouched, silent. She grabbed it, staring at the screen. No messages. No calls.

Her fingers hovered over his name, but she hesitated. She didn't want to be that wife—the one who begged for attention, who checked up on her husband like a paranoid fool.

But hadn't he made her feel like one?

No, she told herself. He should be the one calling me. He should be the one explaining himself.

She tossed the phone back down, pushing away the urge to chase after him.

The front door creaked open an hour later, and she heard the shuffle of Liam's shoes against the hardwood floor. He didn't say anything as he stepped inside, just dropped his keys onto the table near the entrance.

Elena stood up, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "Where were you?"

Liam exhaled heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "Elena, not now."

Her stomach twisted. Not now? Was she supposed to just ignore what happened?

"No, we are talking about this," she said, stepping closer. "You walked out on me after I told you how much I was hurting. Do you even care?"

Liam's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with irritation. "Of course, I care. But I also needed to clear my head before we said things we'd regret."

Elena let out a humorless laugh. "So instead of talking to your wife, you left me sitting here wondering where the hell you were?"

He sighed, running both hands through his hair. "I went for a drive. That's it. I wasn't with anyone, if that's what you're asking."

Elena flinched at the implication. Was he already expecting her to accuse him?

"That's not the point," she whispered, her voice shaking. "You shut me out, Liam. You always shut me out."

Liam let out a sharp breath, stepping back as if trying to distance himself from the argument. "Because every conversation turns into an interrogation! I can't breathe, Elena. Every time I walk through that door, I feel like I have to defend myself over nothing!"

Elena's eyes burned. "Nothing? You think this is nothing?"

His silence was enough of an answer.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "If this is nothing, then why does it feel like I'm the only one fighting for us?"

Liam's expression flickered—briefly, barely noticeable—before his walls went back up. "I don't want to fight anymore."

"Then fix this!" she snapped, her voice breaking. "Fix us before there's nothing left to fight for."

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but instead, he just shook his head. "I'm tired, Elena. I need sleep."

And just like that, he turned away, walking toward their bedroom.

Elena stood there, her entire body trembling as she watched him disappear down the hall.

No apology. No reassurance.

Just exhaustion.

Just distance.

She felt her heart shatter a little more.

And for the first time, she wondered if there would ever come a day when he wouldn't come back at all.

Elena sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her phone screen. Her mother's name hovered over the last unread message: Call me when you can, sweetheart. We miss you.

She wanted to respond. She wanted to hear her mother's voice, to feel that warmth and comfort she used to have before everything changed. But she hesitated, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

If she called now, what would she say?

Would she admit that the perfect life she had fought so hard to build was slowly crumbling beneath her?

Would she tell them that Liam barely looked at her anymore? That his mother and sister treated her like an outsider? That she had started to feel like a ghost in her own home?

She locked her phone instead, setting it down on the nightstand.

Outside the bedroom door, muffled voices filled the air—Liam's mother and sister chatting in the living room. Elena strained to hear, but the moment her name was mentioned, their voices lowered.

She didn't need to hear the words to know what they were saying.

She doesn't belong here.

She's not good enough for Liam.

Maybe he made a mistake marrying her.

The same things they had been whispering since the beginning.

A lump formed in her throat as she pulled her knees to her chest.

She had sacrificed so much to be here. She had left behind her career, her independence, her family—everything—for a man who now barely acknowledged her.

Liam used to be her best friend. He used to listen, to laugh with her, to make her feel like she was his whole world. But now, she could barely remember the last time they had shared a real conversation that wasn't about work or his family.

She was always the one reaching for him, always the one trying to bridge the growing gap between them. But Liam?

Liam was slipping away.

She heard the front door open, followed by Liam's voice as he greeted his mother and sister. He hadn't even checked if she was awake before leaving for the day.Elena stayed curled on the bed for what felt like hours, listening to the faint chatter from the living room. The occasional bursts of laughter stung her more than she cared to admit.

At some point, she forced herself up, trying to shake off the heaviness pressing on her chest. She smoothed down her dress and stepped out of the bedroom. If she was going to be part of this family, she had to try—no matter how much they pushed her away.

As she entered the living room, the conversation hushed.

Liam's mother, Eleanor, glanced up from her cup of tea, her expression unreadable. His sister, Victoria, barely hid her smirk.

"Good morning," Elena greeted, forcing a polite smile.

Eleanor raised a brow. "It's almost noon."

Elena's smile faltered, but she quickly recovered. "I wasn't feeling well."

Liam, who was seated on the couch, barely acknowledged her. He was scrolling through his phone, his attention elsewhere.

"Are you sick?" Eleanor asked, her tone laced with disinterest.

"No, just tired."

Eleanor hummed as she sipped her tea. "Well, you should be careful, dear. Stress can do terrible things to a marriage."

The words felt like a slap, but Elena swallowed down the hurt.

"I'm fine," she said, sitting beside Liam. She rested a hand on his arm, hoping for some kind of reaction. He barely glanced at her before shifting away slightly.

Her stomach sank.

Victoria, enjoying the tension, decided to add fuel to the fire. "Liam, we were just talking about that new restaurant downtown. You should take us there sometime."

Liam nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah, sure."

Elena forced a laugh. "Maybe we can go together this weekend?"

There was a pause before Liam responded. "I'll see if I have time."

Not a yes. Not even an I'll try. Just if I have time.

The rejection hit her harder than she expected.

Victoria smirked. "You know, we ran into Claire the other day."

Elena stiffened. Claire. Liam's ex.

"She looked amazing," Victoria continued. "She just got promoted. Isn't that exciting, Liam?"

Liam finally looked up from his phone, nodding. "Yeah, that's great for her."

That was it. No reassurance for Elena, no acknowledgement of how uncomfortable the topic might be for her. Just another moment of feeling like she was standing on the outside, looking in.

Eleanor set down her teacup. "Claire always had such a strong drive. It's a shame things didn't work out."

Elena's fingers clenched in her lap. "Well, Liam and I are happy, and that's what matters."

Eleanor's eyes flickered to Liam. "Of course, dear."

The way she said it sent a chill down Elena's spine.

She turned to Liam, searching for any sign that he noticed how cruel his family was being. But he was already back on his phone, detached from everything happening around him.