Chapter 2 How it all started

FLASHBACK (five years ago)

The shop was empty again. The silence echoed off the walls, pressing down on Emelia like a suffocating shroud. Days had passed since a single customer stepped through the door, and with each passing hour, her anxiety deepened. Business was drying up, and so was her spirit.

Emelia leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the empty street outside. Things hadn't been right for a long time. Not with the shop, not with Marcus, not with their life together.

Marcus had lost his job months ago, and finding another one had been a cruel, endless cycle of interviews and rejections. Each 'no' chipped away at his confidence until the man Emelia once knew - the lively, optimistic Marcus who could make her laugh with a single look - was all but gone. Now, he was a shell of himself, brooding and silent, with vacant eyes and a growing dependency on alcohol.

Emelia hated seeing him like this. It tore her apart to watch the man she loved spiral into despair. She wanted to help, to save him, but she was drowning in her own worries too. The spa was on the brink of collapse, and bills were piling up faster than she could keep track of. But Marcus's pain overshadowed her own. Seeing him so defeated, so broken, was a deeper agony than any financial strain.

The door swung open, and Marcus stepped in. His shoulders slumped, his expression hollow. Emelia's heart sank as she forced a smile, hoping against hope that today would be different.

"Hi, baby," she greeted, her voice unnaturally bright. "How did it go today? Any good news?"

Marcus didn't bother to respond. He dropped into the nearest chair, his eyes staring at the floor. The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.

Emelia swallowed, her heart throbbing painfully. "Marcus?"

He lifted his gaze to hers, and in that moment, Emelia's breath caught. His eyes were rimmed red, his jaw clenched. The expression on his face was one she had come to dread - a look of utter defeat.

"How else would it go?" he muttered, his voice a flat monotone. "Another rejection. Another dead end."

Emelia bit down hard on her lower lip, fighting back tears. She wanted to rush to him, to hold him, to promise him that things would get better. But she couldn't. Not when she didn't even believe it herself.

Instead, she stood there, her hands twisting together as she watched the man she loved unravel before her eyes. Marcus buried his face in his hands, shoulders quaking as he drew in a shaky breath. Emelia's heart shattered.

This wasn't the man she married. The Marcus she fell in love with was strong and determined, always looking on the bright side. This Marcus was a stranger - beaten down by life, drowning in self-pity and hopelessness.

The shop was suddenly too small, too silent. Emelia cleared her throat, wiping at her eyes. "Let's close up," she said softly. "Let's go home."

Marcus didn't reply, didn't even move. Emelia forced herself to turn away, locking up the register and flipping the 'Open' sign to 'Closed.' She grabbed her coat and walked back to where he still sat, slumped over, head in his hands.

"Come on," she urged gently, reaching for his hand.

Marcus jerked away, the movement sharp and sudden. Emelia's heart lurched, but she forced herself to smile, pretending the rejection didn't sting as much as it did.

They walked home in silence, the night air cold and heavy around them. Emelia kept glancing over at Marcus, hoping he'd look at her, talk to her, reach for her hand like he used to. But he didn't. His eyes remained fixed ahead, his jaw clenched tight.

When they reached the tiny apartment they now called home, Marcus pushed open the door and walked straight to the kitchen. Emelia watched him pull a half-empty bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and pour himself a glass. Without a word, he downed it in one gulp.

Emelia swallowed back the lump in her throat. How much longer could she watch him fall apart? How much longer could she hold herself together?

She couldn't lose him. Not to despair, not to the bottle, and definitely not to the man who had ruined everything. And she knew, deep down, that if things didn't change soon, she might have to make a choice - one that could shatter them both forever.