Chapter 5: The Breaking Point
Saturday came, bright and clear, but Ada felt the storm inside her long before the clouds gathered.
David had planned a simple outing: lunch at their favorite café, then a walk through the park. He was cheerful, talking about work stories and a new project he was excited about. But Ada heard only one name echoing in her mind—Angela.
At the café, she barely touched her food. Her eyes kept darting to his phone on the table, face-down.
"You're quiet," David said, tilting his head. "Everything okay?"
"I'm fine," she replied too quickly.
"Are you sure? You seem…" He searched her face. "Distant."
The pressure inside her chest snapped.
"Who is she, David?" Ada blurted, her voice sharper than intended.
David blinked. "Who?"
"Angela," she said, the name tasting bitter. "You keep mentioning her. You laugh at her jokes. Do you think I don't notice?"
For a moment, silence hung heavy between them. Then David leaned back, exhaling slowly.
"Ada," he said carefully, "Angela is a colleague. That's all. I don't see her outside work, and I certainly don't—"
"Don't lie to me!" Ada's voice rose, drawing a few glances from nearby tables. Her hands trembled around her cup. "This is how it starts, isn't it? First it's jokes and drinks, then late nights, and then—" Her throat tightened. "Then you leave."
David's jaw tightened. He lowered his voice, steady but firm. "I am not your father, Ada. I need you to stop treating me like I'm guilty of something I haven't done."
The words sliced through her. Shame flared hot on her skin, but anger burned hotter.
"You don't get it," she whispered, her eyes filling. "Every time you walk out the door, I wonder if you'll come back. Every time you smile at someone else, I wonder if it's the beginning of the end. Do you know what it's like to live with that fear?"
David's face softened, but his voice carried exhaustion. "I've tried, Ada. I've tried to be patient, to show you I'm not going anywhere. But you don't trust me. And I don't know how much longer I can keep proving myself to someone who refuses to believe me."
His words landed like a blow. For the first time, Ada saw the weariness in his eyes—not just hurt, but the kind of tired that could make someone walk away.
The rest of the meal passed in silence. When they got home, David went straight to the spare room, shutting the door behind him.
Ada sat on the couch, her heart pounding. The house felt colder, emptier, as if a piece of him had already slipped beyond her reach.
She pressed her hands to her face and sobbed, the question returning to her like a ghost she could no longer ignore:
What if I become the very reason this marriage fails?