The next morning, Sophia woke up to a gentle sound. She slowly opened her eyes and saw Ethan standing by the small hospital table. He was busy arranging something on a tray.
"You're awake," he said, noticing her. A small, almost shy smile appeared on his face.
Sophia blinked, still feeling a bit weak. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice calm and confused.
"I brought you breakfast," he said quietly, lifting the tray and walking toward her bed. "I didn't want you eating hospital food."
Sophia's eyes followed him as he gently placed the tray on her lap. Her gaze dropped to the food. There were pancakes, a few slices of fruit, and a small cup of juice. The pancakes weren't perfect, one was slightly burnt, and the fruit wasn't cut evenly. Yet, it wasn't the food that surprised her. It was the fact that Ethan had done this. For her.
"Did you… make this?" she asked, her tone attentive, almost as if she couldn't believe it.
Ethan scratched the back of his head, looking a bit awkward. "Yeah. I know it's not the best, but I wanted to try."
Sophia stared at the tray, with confusion. Ethan wasn't the type of man who cooked. He wasn't the type who did little, thoughtful things like this. At least, not anymore.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ethan delayed a bit, his stare dropping to the floor for a few seconds. When he looked back at her, his eyes held a sincerity she hadn't seen in years. "Because I care," he said calmly.
Those three simple words hit her differently than she expected. For a long time, Sophia had convinced herself that Ethan didn't care anymore. That whatever love they once shared had faded into nothing. Yet here he was, showing her a side of himself she thought was gone forever.
Still, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered, This won't last. Don't let yourself believe it.
Sophia picked up a piece of fruit with shaking hands and took a small bite. It tasted fresh, but her focus wasn't on the food. She looked up at Ethan, who was now pulling a chair closer to her bed. He sat down, his hands resting awkwardly on his knees, as if he didn't know what to do next.
"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice was very calm. She didn't want to say too much, didn't want to hope too much.
Ethan nodded, "You need to get your strength back," he said, avoiding her eyes. "The doctor said eating well is important."
Sophia nodded slightly and continued eating. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't easy either. It was filled with unspoken words and months of unresolved emotions. Every now and then, Sophia would look at Ethan, wondering what had brought on this sudden change. But she didn't ask. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.
Over the next few days, Ethan stayed by Sophia's side. He didn't just bring her food, he helped her walk around the room when the nurses said she needed to move a little. He adjusted her pillows when she looked uncomfortable. He even sat with her late into the night, reading quietly while she slept.
Sophia couldn't remember the last time Ethan had been this attentive. It was strange, almost not real. For the first time in months, she felt like he truly saw her, not as someone who simply existed in the same space but as a person who was important.
One evening, as Ethan helped her back into bed after a short walk around the room, Sophia couldn't help but ask, "Why are you still here?"
Ethan looked at her, he looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…" She paused, struggling to find the right words. "You don't have to be here all the time. The nurses are taking good care of me."
Ethan's expression softened, and he let out a small sigh. "I want to be here, Sophia," he said quietly. "I want to make sure you're okay."
Sophia searched his face for any hint of dishonesty, but all she saw was sincerity. Still, doubt lingered in her heart. She wanted to believe him, but she couldn't shake the fear that this was temporary. That once she was better, things would go back to the way they were.
"Okay," she said finally, not wanting to push the conversation further. She turned her head away, focusing on the little shining of the lamp beside her bed. But even as she closed her eyes, her mind beat rapidly with questions she didn't dare ask.
Ethan's efforts didn't stop there. A few days later, Sophia woke up to find a woman standing by her bed, arranging fresh flowers in a vase. The woman was one of their housekeepers.
"Good morning, ma'am," the woman said with a warm smile. "Mr. Ethan asked me to come and help out while you're recovering."
Sophia blinked in surprise. Ethan had arranged this? She stared toward the door, where Ethan stood with a small bag in his hand.
"I thought it might make things easier," he said, stepping into the room. "She'll be here to help you with anything you need."
Sophia didn't know what to say. Ethan's actions were thoughtful, almost too thoughtful. It was as if he was trying to make up for months of neglect in just a few days. And while a part of her appreciated it, another part of her couldn't help but wonder how long it would last.
As the housekeeper finished arranging the flowers and left the room, Ethan sat down beside Sophia's bed. He placed the bag on the table and pulled out a small book.
"I thought you might like this," he said, handing it to her.
Sophia took the book and looked at the cover. It was a novel she had mentioned wanting to read months ago. She hadn't thought Ethan was paying attention when she talked about it.
"Thank you," she said calmly, moving her hands on the cover. Her heart ached with confusing feelings. She wanted to believe this was real, that Ethan had truly changed. But the voice in her mind whispered again, Don't get your hopes up.
Some days later , Sophia began to recover. Her strength slowly returned, and the color came back to her cheeks. Ethan remained by her side through it all, doing things she never thought he would. He brought her flowers, cooked her meals, and even took time off work to stay with her.
For the first time in months, Sophia felt a little bit of hope. Maybe their marriage wasn't as broken as she thought. Maybe there was still a chance for them to rebuild what they had lost.
But that small voice of doubt never fully disappeared. And as she watched Ethan's distant expression when he thought she wasn't looking, her fear only grew stronger. What if this kindness was temporary? What if, once she was fully recovered, everything went back to the way it was before?
Sophia couldn't help but wonder: Was this the beginning of a new chapter for them, or just a fleeting moment of guilt? Only time would tell.
When Sophia was finally allowed to leave the hospital, Ethan was the one who brought her home. He parked the car carefully in the driveway, then came around to her side to help her out. He moved slowly, as though afraid she might break. She let him help her even though she felt like she could do it herself. Something about the way he handled her made her feel cared for, even if it was just for a little while.
Once they got inside the house, Ethan walked her straight to their bedroom. He gently guided her to sit on the bed and then started fluffing the pillows. He arranged them behind her, adjusting them over and over until they were just right. He even pulled the blanket over her lap, making sure she was comfortable.
"Are you okay? Do you need anything at all?" he asked, his voice quiet and almost tender.
Sophia looked at him, surprised by how attentive he was being. She shook her head and gave him a small smile. "No, I'm fine. Thank you."
Ethan gave a short nod. He stood there for a few seconds, as if he wanted to say something more, but then he turned and left the room. He left the door open just a little, letting the quiet sounds of the house come in. Sophia stared at the door for a long time after he left, her thoughts agitating.
For the first time in a very long time, she allowed herself to feel a tiny bit of hope. Maybe things would be different now. Maybe this was the beginning of a fresh start for both of them. She remembered the way he had stayed by her side at the hospital, the care he had shown, and the soft words he had spoken. Perhaps that Ethan, the caring and kind one, was still there.
But as the days went by, the Ethan she had grown used to started to return. It wasn't sudden, but it was clear. The man who had been so gentle and attentive while she was in the hospital began to slip away. He started coming home late again. At first, he would send a quick text saying he was working late, but even those messages stopped after a while. When he did come home, he barely spoke to her. It was like they were strangers sharing the same house.
The warmth he had shown her, the kindness that had made her think things might change, was gone. He didn't ask her how she was feeling anymore. He didn't sit by her bed to keep her company. Instead, he kept his distance, retreating into his own world. Sophia felt the coldness of his indifference creeping back into her life, and it hurt more than she wanted to admit.
Sophia tried to tell herself that maybe he was just busy. Maybe he had a lot on his mind. But deep down, she knew better. She had seen this side of Ethan too many times before. The caring version of him only showed up when something big happened, when she got sick or when things got too serious to ignore. And then, as soon as life started to settle down, he would go back to being distant, cold, and unavailable.
Her heart ached every time she thought about it. She would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what she had done wrong. She replayed their conversations, trying to figure out if there was something she could have said or done to make him stay the way he was in the hospital. But no matter how much she thought about it, she couldn't find an answer.
One evening, Ethan came home late again. Sophia was sitting on the couch, waiting for him, even though she didn't know why. When she heard the sound of the car parking outside and one of the housekeepers rushing to the door to open it and go out to help Ethan carry whatever he had come back home with, her heart raced. She told herself to stay calm, to act normal.
Ethan walked in, his face tired and his tie slightly loosened. He didn't even look at her. The housekeeper took his to his own room while Ethan went straight to the kitchen. Sophia followed him, her steps quiet. She watched as he poured himself a glass of water, his back turned to her.
"How was work?" she asked calmly, breaking the silence.
"Busy," he replied without turning around. His voice was firm without any emotion.
Sophia felt weak. She wanted to ask him more, to try and start a real conversation, but the words wouldn't come. She didn't know how to reach him anymore. It was like there was a wall between them, and every time she tried to get closer, the wall only grew taller.
Ethan finished his water and walked past her without another word. He headed upstairs, leaving Sophia standing alone in the kitchen. She stared at the empty glass he had left on the counter, her chest tightening with sadness.
Sophia tried to distract herself by reading or watching TV, but it didn't help. Every time she saw Ethan, the pain in her chest grew stronger. She wondered if he even noticed how much she was hurting. Or maybe he did notice and just didn't care.
The days turned into weeks, and the pattern stayed the same. Ethan came home late, barely spoke to her, and spent most of his time in his office or staring at his phone. Sophia felt like she was invisible. She wanted to scream, to demand that he see her, but she didn't know how to find the words.
Instead, she cried when he wasn't looking. She cried in the shower, where the sound of the water would drown out her sobs. She cried into her pillow at night, careful not to make a sound. And every time she cried, she told herself the same thing: It wasn't supposed to be like this.
Sophia had always dreamed of a love that lasted. She thought she had found that with Ethan, but now she wasn't so sure. The man she had fallen in love with felt like a distant memory, and she didn't know if she would ever see him again. All she wanted was for him to look at her the way he used to, to hold her and tell her that everything would be okay. But she didn't know if that was possible anymore.
As Sophia lay in bed that night, staring at the empty space beside her, she realized something. She couldn't keep living like this. Something had to change. Either Ethan had to open up and let her in, or she had to find a way to move on. But the thought of either option terrified her.
For now, all she could do was wait and hope. Hope that the man she loved would come back to her. Hope that their story wasn't over yet. But deep down, she knew that hope alone might not be enough.