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"Daniel?" she called out hesitantly as she parked beside him and got out of her car. She peered into the open garage.
There was no response, save for the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze. As Charlotte stood there, her stomach did a flip. This didn’t look like a garage cleanout—that was Daniel’s own personal luggage. The set he kept in the master bedroom closet for when they traveled.
With a deep breath to steady herself, Charlotte approached the front door, her heart pounding in her chest like a drumbeat. As she pushed the front door open, she was greeted by the sight of even more boxes in the foyer, their stark cardboard edges seeming to mock her from every corner.
"Daniel?" she called again, her voice wavering slightly as she moved further into the house.
"In here," came his reply, soft and laden with both surprise and an unfamiliar heaviness.
Charlotte followed the sound of his voice to the living room, where Daniel stood amid a sea of belongings, his eyes downcast and shoulders slumped. His tall frame seemed smaller somehow, as though weighed down by the gravity of the situation that surrounded them.
"Daniel, what's going on?" Charlotte asked, her confusion rapidly growing as she tried to make sense of the scene before her.
He hesitated for a moment, running a hand through his hair before looking up to meet her gaze. "I wanted to avoid this,” he said, sighing. “I think... I think we need to talk, Charlotte."
"About what?" Her voice cracked as she spoke, the tension in the room palpable and electric, like the air before a storm.
"About... us." Daniel's words hung heavy in the air, his expression unreadable as he continued to pack the contents of a nearby bookshelf into yet another box. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I can't ignore the fact that things have changed between us since Amelia went off to school."
Charlotte felt her heart lurch at his words, fear and sadness creeping up her spine as she tried to process what was happening. She had known that their relationship had been strained the past year, but the reality of the situation was suddenly crashing down upon her like a tidal wave. They hadn’t been fighting—was there someone else?
"Changed how?" she asked, desperate for some semblance of clarity amidst the swirling chaos of her thoughts.
There was a long pause before Daniel finally spoke again, his voice heavy with resignation. "I don't know, Charlotte. I just… I think we've both lost sight of who we are and what we want from life. I mean, you’re a great mom, but other than raising Charlotte—I-I’ve never seen you excited to do anything."
Anger spiked in her. “That’s not fair. I’ve been by your side since high school! Through college, through moving back to New York, through all the chaos when you started your firm. And Iamexcited to do something. Paint.”
“I mean something worthwhile,” he said, snorting. “And being the dutiful girlfriend, the dutiful wife, that’s not living—that’s going along, being a people pleaser. Don’t get me wrong. You’re right about sticking by me—but I don’t want to be married to someone who just stands there, and smiles, and agrees, but has no life of her own.”
As she listened to him, his words struck her like a bolt of lightning. For so long, shehadbeen a people pleaser, bending over backward to accommodate the needs of others while neglecting her own desires. She had become a passive observer in her own life, watching from the sidelines.
“Isn’t that what you do in a relationship, in a family—make sacrifices? Compromise?”
And now that Amelia was off to college, shouldn’t that mean that Charlotte had more time to devote to exactly the things he was complaining she lacked? He should be encouraging her, not splitting.
“To the exclusion of everything else? Where is the excitement in that?” he groused.
"Daniel," she murmured, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch a nearby box. "Do you really think this is the answer?"
He looked at her then, something indescribable flickering across his face before he turned away. "I don't know, Charlotte. But I do know that we can't keep going like this. We both deserve better."
And with that, the room fell silent once more, leaving Charlotte to grapple with the enormity of the decision that loomed between them. One he was apparently making without her input.
The dim light filtering through the curtains cast a soft glow on the packed boxes, highlighting the dust motes that danced in the air. Charlotte stood there, her heart lodged in her throat, as she tried to comprehend the reality unfolding before her.
"Daniel," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "What's really going on?"
He looked up from a box he was taping shut, his eyes meeting hers with sadness. "Charlotte, we're stuck. We've been stuck for a while now, and I think it's time we do something about it. No—time I do something."
"Stuck?" she repeated, her mind racing to decipher the meaning behind his words.
"Look at us," he continued, setting down the tape dispenser and gesturing to the room around them. "We've fallen into a rut, and neither of us is truly happy.” Daniel sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I think divorce is the best solution, Charlotte. Since Amelia moved out, we've been living two separate lives under the same roof. We deserve better, don't you think?"
We deserve better.He kept saying it. As much as she wanted to argue, to fight for their marriage, a part of her knew he was right. The late work dinners, early weekend golf games for Daniel, and Charlotte staying up late painting, only to go to bed long after Daniel had fallen asleep and wake early before him to go jogging—the spark that had once ignited their love had long since faded, leaving only the embers of a relationship built on routine and complacency.
He hadn’t even asked her how the swap meet had gone—and she had been so reluctant to share her meeting with Ashwood with him. She blinked back tears, her initial shock giving way to a wave of resignation.
"Maybe you're right," she conceded, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. "I guess...we stopped trying, didn't we?"
