25.

The next morning, as the soft sunlight filtered through the curtains, I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my blazer. My head still felt a little light, but the routine was comforting—mechanical, familiar. I picked up my bag and was about to leave the room when Daniel appeared in the doorway, his tall frame blocking my path.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his voice calm but firm.

“To work,” I replied simply, avoiding his gaze.

“You’re not going,” he said, crossing his arms.

I paused for a moment, staring at the floor, before nodding silently. My agreement was automatic, robotic, just like everything else these days.

But Daniel wasn’t satisfied. His jaw tightened, and he let out a frustrated sigh. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, more to himself than me. “Fine. We’re going on holiday. It’ll be better for both of us to clear our heads.”

Again, I nodded, my response devoid of emotion or thought.

That seemed to be the last straw for him. In a swift motion, he closed the distance between us, his hand gently gripping my chin and tilting my face upward so I had no choice but to look at him.

“Vera, talk to me,” he said, his voice low and earnest. His dark eyes were filled with something I had never seen before—sincerity, maybe even desperation.

For a moment, I froze. It was the first time I’d seen him so open, so unguarded. The weight of his gaze bore into me, and for a fleeting second, I thought about spilling everything—my fears, my exhaustion, my longing for something more than this cold, distant life.

But then the doubt crept in. Daniel wouldn’t understand. No matter how much I loved him, I couldn’t trust him with the fragile pieces of my heart.

So I did what I always did. I pulled away.

“I’m fine,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked past him, my steps carrying me out into the garden.

The crisp morning air greeted me, and I took a deep breath, trying to steady the turmoil inside. The garden was quiet, peaceful, but even here, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was running—from him, from myself, from the truth.

Behind me, I could feel Daniel’s presence, his eyes watching me even though he didn’t follow. It was as if the distance between us had grown even wider, despite his attempt to bridge it.

And yet, a small part of me hoped he wouldn’t give up.

Daniel’s footsteps followed me at a distance, but it was when he reached the garden that he spoke again, his voice softer now, almost as if he were treading carefully.

“We’re leaving for a few days,” he said, his tone thoughtful, but his words carrying an unspoken weight. “I’ve arranged for us to go to the coast. There’s a villa by the sea. Quiet, away from everything. It’ll give us both the space we need.” He paused, watching me closely. “What do you think? It could be... good for us.”

I didn’t look up. I could feel him waiting for a response, but all I could manage was a nod. A simple, automatic gesture.

“A villa by the sea,” I repeated, my voice flat. My mind was already elsewhere—just like it always was. “Sounds nice.”

There was a silence between us. I could hear the rustling of leaves in the breeze, but all I could focus on was how his eyes were still on me, studying me like he was trying to unlock something that was locked away.

Daniel let out a soft sigh, as if he were bracing himself for something more. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning. I’ll take care of everything.” He was still trying, I could tell. Still trying to break through whatever wall I had built around myself.

But I couldn’t respond the way he wanted me to. I couldn’t open up. I couldn’t tell him how it felt to live in a house that felt empty, even with him in it. How I couldn’t remember the last time I laughed, or felt something other than numb.

He moved closer, and for a moment, I thought he was going to say something else, but instead, he stopped, his expression unreadable.

“Vera,” he began, but then he shook his head, as though he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say anymore. He sighed again. “We need to take a step back. It’ll help you. It’ll help us.”

Another nod from me. Another automatic, mindless response.

Daniel’s frustration was barely masked now, though he didn’t show it outwardly. He just watched me for a moment longer, and then turned to leave the garden.

I remained there, staring at the flowers in front of me, my heart heavy with words that I couldn’t find the courage to say. And deep down, a small, almost fragile part of me wondered if this holiday could be the moment where I finally stopped hiding from him.