Good Morning by Most_bay
He changed. He definitely changed. I don't know what makes him act like a stranger all of a sudden, but there must be a reason. There must be something wrong.
It's not like we've been one of those lovey dovey couples, but I claim we have a successful marriage. People envied us for our strong, enduring relationship. We've been the living proof that a lasting marriage doesn't have to be based on a romantic love story.
I've married my friend and colleague and I do love him. It's that steady, reasonable kind of love that evolves over the years and strengthens by companionship. But this recent change makes me wonder if he ever felt the same way about us. It makes me doubtful.
It makes me angry!
I was proud of the establishment we have and now he's the one destroying it with whatever he has up his sleeve.
For over a month, things haven't been the same. He grew distant day by day. He stopped asking me to make his morning coffee, or help him pick a shirt for work, or fix his tie. He stopped smiling. That sweet, appreciative smile that used to make my day.
Was it even real?
He returns from work in silent mode, accompanied by a tired frown on his face. He says 'hi' as if it's the longest word in the English language. He doesn't seem to care anymore. If he ever really cared.
Is it another woman?
No... He's never been that type. He's an ethical man. That's why he's been my best friend. That's why he is my husband. Still, it's always a possibility that he got bored of our life together.
A lump forms in my throat. Maybe he just had a change of heart. It happens all the time. I've heard a hundred stories about men and middle-age crises.
"We need to talk," I demand once he finishes his dinner.
"Yes we do," he says hoarsely and gets up. He shuffles to the couch and slumps down, holding his head in his hands. I can see the heaviness of the moment affecting him too.
"There's something that... I've been feeling for a while and... I don't know how to start." I fiddle with my fingers as we sit on our comfy couch. Just like every day.
"I'll make it easy for you." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "You want a divorce?"
"Divorce?!" I gape at him for a long moment, too shocked to form a coherent reply. Is it that easy for him? A divorce? After all those years?
"I get that people change sometimes and I can't... make you..."
"Just like that?" I cut him off with a bark.
"I've been trying to carry on, despite all the signs, but..." He frowns and shakes his head.
"But you got tired." I picked up, nodding my head. "You got tired of being my husband?"
"Being your husband is the best thing that ever happened to me, but if you..." he swallows staring at the floor, a pained look clouding his face. "If it's too much for you, I'll do whatever makes you happy."
That's nonsense! He thinks it's my fault?
"What are you talking about?!" I exclaim. "How could you blame me for this? Do you even realize what you're doing? How withdrawn you've been for weeks? You don't talk. You don't care. What happened to you? What happened to us?"
"You stopped saying good morning." He mutters, a distant look freezing his eyes.
"I did what?" I ask, confused by his strange answer.
"You stopped saying good morning." He repeats, his tone exuding agony. "It's thirty-four days now."
"Really?!" I whisper as if I'm asking myself.
Floored, I press my temples, struggling to remember the last time I bade him good morning. My memory couldn't help me.
He's right! Oh God, he's right!
"Every day, for seven years, you woke me up with a kiss and wished me a good morning, and guess what? That's what kept me going all day." His lips curve for a split second then his smile falls.
I bring my hands to cover my mouth, my chest tightens as I listen to him pour his feelings for the first time. I finally find out that I'm the one to blame
"Then you just stopped." He shrugs and bites his lips. "I waited for you to remember, day after day, but you never did and it made me feel something... broke. I didn't want to impose myself, so I decided to back off until I figure it out."
"You thought I..." I utter in a small voice. "You thought I stopped loving you?"
"I didn't know what to think." He passes his hands over his face and stoops forward. "It was a small sign, but it's a big deal to me."
I move closer to him and grab his hand in mine, tears of regret rolling down on my face. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you."
"So... you're not leaving me?" His unsure, broken tone sends stabs of remorse deep into my conscience.
"Never." I squeeze his hand and brush it with my lips. "I guess I've been taking things for granted. I'm so sorry."
"I was in hell for the past month, thinking I was losing you." He looks deep into my eyes. The hint of reproach in his face kills me.
I sob and stroke the back of his hand. "I promise I'll make it up to you."
"Hmm." He tilts his head, a playful look peeking through his precious eyes. "Do I get to choose how you'll make it up to me?"
"You mean... You forgive me?" I clasp my fingers around his hand and hug it tightly.
"Of course I do. You're my best friend. I love you." He finally smiles. The sweet, genuine smile that I love.
Through my streaming tears, I laugh and attack him with a fierce embrace. He chuckles and hugs me back.
"One more thing," I say. "You can count, right?"
He narrows his eyes in confusion.
I kiss his cheek. "Good morning."
I kiss him again. " Good morning. "
One more kiss. "Good morning."
I repeat and repeat and repeat the same process, making sure I cover each and every day I've missed without showing him how much I appreciate him. How much I care for him.
How much I love him.