Chapter 5 Shattering Truth

The evening had finally gone down, and the house returned to a familiar, tired silence. After Elena's parents left, she took her time getting Eli ready for bed. He was unusually chatty, perhaps still riding the sugar high from dessert, and she smiled as she listened to his endless words he produced from his thoughts. Her heart felt heavy, but for Eli's sake, she kept the smile glued to her face.

After reading him his favorite bedtime story and tucking him under his spaceship-themed covers, Elena kissed his forehead softly.

"Goodnight, my little star," she whispered.

Eli murmured something sleepily about dreams and adventures, already halfway to slumber. Elena stayed a moment longer, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. Only when his breathing settled into a soft, rhythmic pattern did she finally leave the room, pulling the door closed behind her with a quiet click.

She stood there for a moment, her hand resting on the doorframe. She needed fresh cool air to clear the dull ache that had been building inside her all evening. Her feet made soft, dragging sounds as she made her way to the front door.

But just as she reached for the handle, a voice floated over from the living room.

Marcus.

Her hand froze midair. His tone was low, private. Not the casual, absentminded hum she was used to hearing when he spoke with his colleagues or friends. Instinctively, she drew back, pressing herself against the wall just out of sight. She hated the feeling. The creeping, cold dread that had been her unwelcome companion these past few months. But something inside her told her not to move...to listen.

"...Yeah, baby, I promise," Marcus said, his voice a hushed murmur mixed with an intimacy Elena hadn't heard directed at her for some time. "I'll figure it out. We'll go somewhere far... just the two of us. No distractions this time. Just you and me."

Elena's breath lodged painfully in her throat. She pressed a trembling hand over her mouth, as if that could stop the heartbreak from spilling out. Every word from Marcus felt like a hammer cracking her ribs open, making it harder and harder to breathe.

"You deserve it, after all the waiting," Marcus continued, chuckling softly, intimately. "I'll make sure it's perfect."

There was a pause, and Elena imagined him smiling, the way he used to smile at her. She couldn't bear to hear another word. Quietly, she turned away, moving as silently as a ghost across the hallway. The front door and the fresh air she so desperately needed, was forgotten. Her legs felt boneless, her movements automatic as she climbed the stairs back to their bedroom.

Once inside, she closed the door with a shaky hand, locking herself away from the world, from Marcus, from the ugly truth that had just been laid bare. She stood in the middle of the room for a long moment, staring at nothing, her mind a blank, stunned expanse. Then, as if a dam had broken inside her, the tears came.

Silent at first, hot, heavy tears slipping down her cheeks. She pressed her fists against her mouth, trying to smother the sobs building in her chest, but the pain was too much, too fierce to be contained. She collapsed onto the bed, pulling her knees up to her chest. Her whole body shook with the force of her sorrow. The betrayal, the loneliness, the slow unraveling of her marriage, it all crashed over her at once.

She cried until her throat was raw, until her head pounded and her eyes felt swollen and burning.

The sound of the stairs creaking jolted her, but she didn't lift her head. She couldn't. She heard the bedroom door swing open and soft footsteps approach.

"Elena?" Marcus's voice was casual, almost annoyed. "What's wrong?"

She hastily wiped her face with the back of her hand, though it did little to hide the damage. In the dim lighting, she hoped he wouldn't see how broken she looked.

"Nothing," she croaked out, her voice thin and brittle. "Just... a little headache."

Marcus hesitated. For a brief moment, she thought, hoped he might press, that he might care enough to see the truth etched across her face. But then he turned away, fumbling through the nightstand drawer.

"Here," he said, tossing a small packet of pain relief pills onto the bed near her. "Take these. You'll feel better."

She managed a small nod, clutching the packet like a lifeline, even though she had no intention of taking the pills. There was no medication in the world that could soothe the ache inside her chest.

Without another word, Marcus peeled off his shirt and slipped into bed beside her. Within minutes, his breathing deepened, and he was fast asleep, oblivious to the storm raging just inches away from him.

Elena lay there in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling, her heart splintering all over again. How had they gotten here? How had the man who once made her feel like the center of his universe now treat her like a background noise to be tolerated?

When had the love died?

Or worse, had it ever been real at all?

She turned onto her side, curling in on herself, facing away from Marcus. The tears returned, slower this time, leaking from the corners of her eyes and soaking into the pillow. She made no move to wipe them away.

Tomorrow, she told herself. Tomorrow she would get up and plaster on a brave face for Eli. Tomorrow she would survive.

But tonight... tonight she would grieve the death of the life she thought she had.

The life she now knew had been an illusion.

In the suffocating silence of the room, Elena made a silent vow to herself.

She would not break, not for Marcus, and definitely not for anyother person.

Even as her heart bled in the darkness, somewhere deep inside her, a fragile seed of resolve began to take root.

She didn't know when or how, but one day, she would find her way out of this. She would choose herself.