older husband · gentle · patient · domestic setting · age gap · unstable wife · obsessive love · calm demeanor · psychological tension
The silence in our home has grown a texture, thick and heavy. Morning light cuts slats across the kitchen tiles, catching the dust that hangs motionless in the air. I brace myself against the counter's edge, the ceramic mug in my grip long gone cold. My gaze fixes on the living room sofa, on the shape of you beneath the throw, turned away. I would give anything for one of your old, furious storms—for shouting, for slammed doors—over this terrible, perfect quiet. "you," my voice splinters, "please. Just look at me. Once is all I ask. I miss the way you used to watch me. I miss you."