Everyone thought Amara and Daniel had the perfect marriage, they had been married for six years and whenever they walked into a room together, people noticed..
Daniel would hold the door open for her... Amara would laugh at his jokes, even the ones nobody else found funny.. At weddings, they danced together, even At family gatherings, they sat close enough for their knees to touch.
Their pictures on social media were even better.
Anniversary dinners..
Birthday surprises..
Random photographs with captions about love and friendship...
“Six years and still my favourite person.”.. That was what Amara had written beneath their last anniversary picture.
Everyone commented on it. “Couple goals.”... “God when?”... “May we find this kind of love.”.
Amara liked the comments.. Daniel did too.
Nobody knew that the picture had been taken eleven minutes after they had stopped arguing...
The argument had started over something as ordinary as dinner.. “You said you were coming home early,” Amara had told him..
“I got busy.”...
“You could have called.”...
“I said I got busy, Amara.”...
She had looked at him for a few seconds.
“I wasn't asking for an explanation. I was asking why you couldn't call.”....
Daniel had sighed and that sigh had somehow said everything.
It said he was tired... It said she was becoming difficult... It said this conversation had happened too many times.
So Amara had stopped talking and Daniel had gone into the bathroom... Twenty minutes later, they were sitting beside each other at a restaurant, smiling for a photograph.
That was the part everyone saw..
The part behind the scenes was different..
Daniel had been sleeping in the guest room for almost four months... Not because they had officially separated.
They hadn't.
They simply stopped sleeping in the same room..
At first, they told themselves it was temporary..
They needed space...
They were both stressed...
Things would get better... But temporary things have a way of becoming permanent when nobody wants to admit that something is wrong.
The guest room became Daniel's room.
Amara stopped asking when he would come back.
He stopped pretending he would.
They still ate together sometimes.
They still attended family events.
They still answered “yes” whenever someone asked if everything was okay.
It was easier that way.
Especially around their families.
Daniel's mother adored Amara.
Amara's sisters thought Daniel was one of the best things that had ever happened to her... Nobody needed to know that some nights they passed each other in the hallway like strangers... Nobody needed to know that they had gone three weeks without having a proper conversation... Nobody needed to know that Amara had started crying in the bathroom because it was the only room in the house where Daniel couldn't accidentally walk in and see her, Then one Friday evening, Daniel came home carrying a small suitcase..
Amara was in the kitchen.
She looked at the suitcase.
Then she looked at him.
“What's that?”
Daniel placed it beside the stairs.
“I'm leaving for a while.”
Amara stared at him.
“Where are you going?”
“I don't know yet.”
Something inside her went quiet.
She had imagined this moment so many times.
She thought she would scream.
She thought she would beg.
Instead, she simply asked,
“Is there someone else?”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
“Then why?”
He looked at her for a long time.
“Because I don't know how to keep living like this.”
Amara looked away.
Neither of them spoke.
Then Daniel said something she wasn't prepared for.
“I've been seeing a therapist for three months.”
She turned back to him.
“You have?”
He nodded.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because every time I tried to talk to you, you were already angry.”
Amara almost laughed.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“And what about you?”
Daniel lowered his eyes.
“I was angry too.”
That was the first honest thing they had said to each other in months.
Not I'm fine.
Not It's nothing.
Not We'll figure it out.
Just the truth.
They stood there in the kitchen, two people who had spent years carefully protecting the image of their marriage while quietly destroying the marriage itself.... Amara sat down... “I stopped telling you when I was hurt,” she whispered.
Daniel sat opposite her.
“Why?”
“Because I didn't want to become another problem you had to solve.”
He looked at her.
“I stopped telling you when I was scared.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought you would think I was weak.”
For a few minutes, neither of them spoke.
Then Amara started crying.
Not loudly.
Just tears running down her face while she stared at her hands.
Daniel didn't try to hug her.
Maybe he finally understood that not every problem needed to be fixed immediately.
Sometimes people just needed to be heard.
That night, Daniel didn't leave... He put the suitcase back upstairs...
They sat in the living room until almost 2 a.m., talking about things they should have discussed years ago.
The resentment,The loneliness, The disappointments, The things they had forgiven but never really forgotten, The things they had pretended didn't hurt..
It wasn't a magical conversation...
They didn't suddenly become the perfect couple everyone thought they were... In fact, they still had a lot of work to do but for the first time in years, there was no performance...
No smiling for photographs.
No pretending for family.
No social media captions.
No “we're fine.”
Just Amara and Daniel.
Two imperfect people sitting in a quiet living room, finally looking at what had been happening behind the scenes and perhaps that was where their real marriage finally began.
Image Credit: Chatgpt
