Elara woke before dawn, the way she often did when her thoughts refused to rest. The other side of the bed was cold, the sheets barely disturbed. Caleb must have come home late again or not at all. She told herself not to check the time. The house carried the faint scent of last night's rain and something sharper beneath it—cologne that wasn't usually worn to bed. She dismissed it with the same practiced calm she used for everything uncomfortable. Marriage requires trust and she trusted her husband Caleb. Doubt was a luxury she couldn't afford. By midmorning, her phone buzzed and a message popped in. She reluctantly reached for her phone and read through. It was a message from Maris.
"Are you awake? I'm nearby. Thought I'd stop in"
Elara stared at the message, surprised. Maris never came by without asking first. Still, she typed back a yes and set about tidying a room that was already clean.
Her stepsister arrived with a burst of energy, rain still clinging to her coat, eyes bright in a way that felt forced. She hugged Elara tightly, too tightly.
"You look tired," Maris said, pulling back. "Did you sleep at all?"
"Not much," Elara admitted. "Caleb worked late again."
Maris's smile flickered, just for a second. "He's been…busy with work,I guess."
The word lingered strangely in the air.
Elara forced a small smile as she sat at the Kitchen table,steam rising from fresh coffee. Maris sat next to her sister as she talked about work, about mutual friends, about anything but the way her knee bounced beneath the table or how she kept glancing at her phone made Elara suspicious but she chose calmness.
"El," Maris said suddenly, lowering her voice, "you know you deserve happiness, right?"
Elara blinked. "I think I'm…happy enough."
Maris frowned. "That's not the same thing."
Before Elara could respond, Maris's phone lit up. A name flashed across the screen before she could turn it face down.
Caleb.
The room seemed to tilt.
"Oh," Maris said quickly, flipping the phone over. "It's probably nothing. He's just checking in."
Elara forced a laugh. "He does that."
But he didn't. Not with Maris.
The rest of the visit passed in a haze. Maris left sooner than she'd planned, offering another long hug, whispering, "I'm always here for you," like a confession rather than a promise.
That afternoon, Elara folded laundry in the bedroom, her hands moving automatically while her mind replayed the moment at the table. Caleb's name on Maris's phone. The way she'd said busy. The unfamiliar cologne.
She opened the drawer where Caleb kept his things, not intending to search just to prove herself wrong. His phone wasn't there. It was a small thing. Still, her stomach tightened. When Caleb finally came home that evening, he kissed her cheek and asked about her day. His answers were vague when she asked about his. He showered immediately, humming to himself as the water ran through his body.
"Elara," he said from the bathroom, "Maris stopped by today, didn't she?"
Elara was shocked as he called her name in full instead of the normal short name he uses. She was tempted to ask him why he called Maris that morning but had a second opinion about it.
"Yes," Elara replied carefully. "Why?"
"I ran into her earlier. She mentioned she might come around to see you."
The lie slipped out too smoothly.
Elara sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the water run, the sound suddenly oppressive. She thought of all the years she had swallowed doubt in the name of loyalty, all the times she'd blamed herself when something felt off.
That night, when Caleb reached for her in the dark, she froze.
"I'm tired," she whispered.
"Come-on El, I need you tonight," he said,his voice low yet firm.
Elara shoved his hands away as she rolled herself to the other end of the bed.
"Don't you get it Caleb, I'm too tired to do anything" Elara said as she laid on the bed.
It was the first time she was rejecting his touch. She felt awkward about it but somehow she felt she did the right thing at that moment.
Caleb hesitated, then rolled away without further argument. Within minutes, his breathing evened out.
Elara lay awake, staring at the ceiling, a quiet realization settling into her chest.
Something was wrong. She felt it in her spirit and she needed clarity.
And for the first time in years, she allowed herself to believe it.