He was never violent. Never shouted. Never insulted me outright.
But his indifference… was worse than cruelty.
It was like living beside a stranger who didn’t see you, didn’t hear you, didn’t care if you existed at all.
After the wedding, we lived in his parents’ house.
Every morning, I woke up before sunrise. I cooked breakfast, cleaned the floors, washed clothes, arranged everything neatly as if I were trying to prove I belonged there.
Every night, I waited.
I waited for him to come home.
I waited to hear even a single warm word.
But all I ever got was:
“I already ate.”
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