In the quiet morning, I lay in bed, watching the ceiling as Kyle slept beside me. Since Sam’s birth, our relationship had grown distant—fewer conversations, less affection. I longed for the closeness we once had.
I suggested a date night, but Kyle wasn’t interested. I felt invisible. At work, Dean’s attention felt refreshing. He complimented me, and we spent lunch together, reminding me of the affection I missed. I couldn’t help but wonder where that had gone with Kyle.
At home, I tried to reconnect, suggesting a weekend trip, but Kyle dismissed it. Frustrated, I snapped at him, expressing how I felt like a stranger in my own marriage. His response—”Everyone’s life changes after a kid”—hurt deeply. It was clear we were drifting apart, and I feared we might not make it.
The next day, anonymous flowers started arriving at my office. Their sweet messages made me feel special, though I tried not to read too much into them. When Dean, the apparent source, revealed he wasn’t the one sending them, I was left confused.
Then, one evening, the flowers led me to a restaurant where Kyle was waiting. He confessed that he had sent them, realizing he had neglected me. His actions showed he still loved me, and I finally felt seen again. He promised to do better, and for the first time in a long while, I felt hope.
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