It's been three years since we moved out here and it was great at first but now we're drifting apart. I haven't been feeling that good lately and I don't know why. Toby has been getting home late lately and he never seems to be in a good mood. It's around 10:30 p.m. and Toby comes in sloppily. His shift got done at 5 so I don't know where he's been.
"I made dinner, it's in the fridge" I said looking at a magazine at the counter.
"Alright" he said in a crabby mood. He grabbed it from the fridge, heated it up and started to walk out of the room.
"Where are you going" I asked looking up at him with concern.
"To bed" he said plainly, not looking at me. I just let it go because that's our normal nights lately. A while later I walk into our bedroom to find him passed out with the tv on and the empty plate that his food was on. I grabbed the plate and brought it to the sink rinsing it off. I went into the bathroom and got ready for bed. Toby sleeps on the right side of the bed. When I walked into the bedroom Toby was laying on his right side facing the inside of the mattress. I turned the tv off and crawled into bed. When I was laying down I felt the bed move, intending that Toby was rolling away from me. We used to be so close but now he won't even face me in bed.
The next morning I woke up to and empty bed. I got of and checked the rest of the house. I discovered a silent house whispering with creaking noises. Just as I assumed, Toby left me to have another day alone and feeling bad about myself. What have we done to become like this, and what can I do to fix it.
I know this is a short chapter but I decided to right this because of @ReginaAlston who gave me the idea for the plot. I hope you guys like it and will continue to read it as it evolves into something much more.