Maria's hands trembled slightly as she tightened the silk scarf around her neck, staring at her reflection in the mirror and fixed her lipstick and looked at her reflection . The woman who looked back at her seemed⌠tired. Not just physically, though the exhaustion from long work hours and sleepless nights clung to her skin. No, this was a deeper kind of tired , the kind that settled in the soul, that whispered at night, reminding her of all the things she wished for or thought she might have but never had.
Behind her, the sound of a video game filled the samll apartment. Her husband Daniel , was sprawled across the couch, his fingers tapping lazily against the controller, eyes locked onto the screen. The coffee table was littered with empty soda can and smoked cigarettes on the table with empty bags of snacks . She had asked him to clean up yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that. But here they were another day, another ignored request, she left to do it herself.
She took a deep breath, forcing her voice to remain calm. "Daniel"
No answer , ignoring her like a ghost.
She turned, crossing her arms. "Daniel."
He sighed loudly, finally pausing his game. "What?"
Maria clenched her teeth, trying not to snap. "Did you send your CV to that company? You said you would."
Daniel rolled his eyes. "I told you I'll do it later, I was thinking about being working under a manager is hard for me."
"You said that yesterday and we talked about it ."
"And I'll do it, Maria . Stop thinking."
Her fingers curled into fists at the word. Thinking . That's what he called it. Every effort she made to push him forward, to help him become more than a man who wasted his days playing games and watching tv and avoiding responsibilities, was nothing but nagging to him.
She exhaled slowly. "Daniel , we can't keep living like this. I'm working overtime just to cover our rent, groceries, bills⌠everything. You need to start helping."
Daniel groaned, tossing his controller aside. "You act like I do nothing."
"You don't!" The words burst out before she could stop them. "You sit here all day, playing games, waiting for the 'perfect' job while IâŚ" she gestured around them, "am killing myself trying to keep us afloat."
Daniel narrowed his eyes. "I didn't ask you to do that."
Maria flinched. For a moment, she thought he might take it back. Apologize. Say something that would make her feel like she wasn't drowning alone.
But he just shrugged and turned back to his game.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Of course. Of course, this was how it would go. Again.
She turned toward the kitchen, gripping the counter to steady herself. She had married him believing in the idea of potential . that he could be better, that she could help him become better. She had spent a year pouring herself into this marriage, hoping he would wake up one day and realize what he had, what she was willing to give.
But the reality was simple: He didn't want to change.
And the worst part?
He didn't want a future with her.
Maria blinked rapidly, trying to push back the sting in her eyes. She had tried to bring up the topic so many times. A baby. A family. Every time, Daniel had brushed her off, laughed like it was some ridiculous fantasy, saying over and over that he is so young to be a father .
"We're not ready," he'd say.
Or worse, "Why ruin what we have?"
As if a child would be a burden. As if the aching emptiness inside her was something that could just be ignored.
She had dreamed of being a mother for as long as she could remember. She had pictured holding a tiny hand in hers, whispering bedtime stories, feeling the warmth of unconditional love. But Daniel ⌠he didn't share that dream.
And no matter how much she begged, how much she hoped, he never would.
She glanced back at him now, watching as he laughed at something on his screen. No weight of responsibility, no concern for the future. Just a man who refused to grow up, while she was exhausted from carrying the weight of both their lives.
Her phone buzzed on the counter. A message from her boss.
"Need you to cover an extra shift tonight. Let me know."
Maria sighed. Of course. Another late night. Another excuse for Daniel to say she was "too busy," that she was "always working."
Someone has to.
Without a word, she grabbed her bag and headed toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Daniel called without looking away from the screen.
She hesitated for a moment before answering. "Work."
He scoffed. "You're always at work."
A pause. Then, softer: "You never have time for me anymore."
Maria's grip tightened on the doorknob. A bitter part of her wanted to laugh. Time for him? She had spent two years giving him everything her time, her energy, her patience, her love. And what had he given in return?
Nothing.
She took a deep breath. "Goodnight, Daniel ."
And with that, she walked out the door.
The cold night air wrapped around her as she stepped onto the empty street. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, letting herself feel the silence.
For the first time in a long time, she wondered:
What if there was more than this?
And for the first time, she let herself want it.