fwriction

“Standing in the stairwell, Hannah gripped her daughter’s book and wondered why she did this, why she bothered with the long lunches and extra vacation days. None of it seemed to matter anymore. She was jealous of Ethan, of the time he spent at home with Alicia. But that wasn’t it. No, it was Ethan. Their marriage. The silences that now supplanted their conversations. He leaned over every night before falling asleep and kissed her shoulder and said, Don’t forget you love me. The words meant something once, long ago she thought, when they were young and naive and perfect. When she couldn’t imagine, even for a moment, forgetting how much she loved him. Now, she could barely look at him. He knew, she thought, but he didn’t care. Perhaps he had forgotten. She had tried, for some time, to remind him, but everything seemed to end in futility. Something new interrupted them, something unfamiliar and broken. She was at a loss as to what to do next. Leaning against the wall of the stairwell, she watched her daughter. Hannah took quick, unsatisfying breaths. Her marriage was worn, stuck between gears. It seemed the final miles had already come.”

dannygoodmanwriting:

Don’t Forget You Love Me, published in Used Furniture Review