ManyWriters

Eight years into our marriage, my husband, Julian Croft, abruptly announced he wanted us to have a sexless marriage.
He said work was too demanding, the pressure too great, and he simply had no energy left for our private life.
I tried to convince myself this was perhaps just a normal phase, a common dip that seasoned marriages sometimes experienced. But then, as I was mindlessly scrolling through TikTok, I stumbled upon a familiar figure.
The caption was stark and to the point: Is my boyfriend touch-starved?
In the video, the man whose hands seemed to ache to caress every inch of the girl’s skin was none other than my own husband—the very same man championing our new, sexless life.

Eight Autumns of Lies

The next day, I was awakened by a call from building management.


"Mrs. Croft, did you and Mr. Croft have a fight?"


"He came looking for us last night, but we had already clocked out."


"So he ended up sleeping outside your door all night."


"He's lying there by the door now, and it's quite unsightly... Could you come and open the door?"


I smoothed my disheveled hair and said:


"I'm sorry, but we didn't have a fight."


"From now on, I am the sole owner of this apartment. If Julian shows up again, please have him removed."


When I appeared, Julian immediately scrambled up from the ground.


He saw me, the corners of his eyes drooping, and brushed the dust off his clothes:


"Evelyn, I was completely blinded by that woman!"


"That agreement from yesterday, I think there's still room for negotiation."


"Please, give me another chance, okay?"


"A reformed rake makes the best husband?"


Chapter 6