My Cold Husband Pampers Me Too Much

The sun was already high in the sky, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm toast filled the cozy kitchen. Fiona moved about, arranging the table for breakfast, her every motion deliberate and focused. It was a quiet morning, with the only sound being the clinking of plates and the occasional hum of the refrigerator. Yet, her mind was elsewhere, wandering between thoughts of her husband, Daniel, and the increasing distance that had grown between them over the past few months.

She placed the last of the breakfast dishes on the table and called upstairs, "Daniel, I've set the table. Breakfast is ready. Come down to eat."

Her voice was calm, but there was a hint of weariness, a routine plea that seemed to go unheard more often than not. She waited, listening to the faint sound of Daniel moving around in the bedroom, probably getting ready for the office, immersed in his usual morning rush.

"I'm coming downstairs," came his reply, his voice as detached as ever.

Fiona sighed softly, nodding even though he couldn't see her. "Alright," she murmured to herself, more out of habit than expectation. She wanted to share breakfast with him, even if just for a few moments of conversation. But these days, even that seemed like too much to hope for.

After a few minutes, Daniel finally appeared in the kitchen, dressed sharply in his business suit, the collar of his shirt crisp against his neck. He barely glanced at the table before pulling out a chair. Fiona smiled faintly, hoping to engage him in some small talk before he rushed off, but just as he sat down, the shrill ring of his phone cut through the silence.

Daniel glanced at the caller ID, and a familiar name flashed on the screen—his assistant, Juli.

"Hello, sir!" Juli's voice chirped on the other end of the line.

"Hello," Daniel answered, his tone shifting into the brisk, professional demeanor he always adopted during work hours.

"Sir, can you please come quickly?" Juli continued. "We have a meeting that is about to start in a little while, and it won't begin without you. The people we're meeting with have already arrived."

Fiona watched quietly from across the table, her heart sinking a little more with each passing second. She knew where this conversation was heading, and it wasn't in her favor.

"Okay, I'm coming. You arrange everything," Daniel said, his voice firm and final.

"Okay, sir. Bye," Juli responded, and with that, the call ended.

Daniel stood up, pocketing his phone and heading toward the door without touching the breakfast Fiona had prepared.

"You're leaving without eating anything?" Fiona asked, her voice soft but tinged with disappointment. "At least have a little. There's still some time."

"I don't have time," Daniel replied, his tone indifferent as he buttoned his jacket. "I need to leave now."

Fiona bit her lip, suppressing the urge to push further. She knew it wouldn't make a difference, but she couldn't help herself. "Shall I send lunch with the driver later?" she offered, hoping for some connection, some way to care for him.

Daniel shook his head. "No need. I'll eat something from the canteen. And don't worry about me so much."

Worry about him? How could she not? Fiona felt the sharp sting of his words but kept quiet, watching as he turned away. "Take care," she whispered, her voice barely audible as the door clicked shut behind him.

As soon as Daniel left, Fiona stood still for a moment, the silence of the house enveloping her. The emptiness felt suffocating. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not yet. She couldn't fall apart—not until she was alone. Slowly, she made her way to her room, locking the door behind her before collapsing onto the bed, sobbing into the pillow.

The pain of Daniel's indifference had been building for so long that it felt like a heavy weight on her chest, suffocating her spirit. She had done everything she could think of to make him happy, to keep their marriage alive. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't break through the wall he had built around himself.

A sharp thought pierced through her mind—Juli. Fiona couldn't stand Daniel's assistant. It wasn't just her proximity to him, though that certainly stung. It was the way Juli seemed to effortlessly fit into his world, the way she could reach him when Fiona couldn't. She had seen the texts, the calls, the constant communication between them, and it gnawed at her. Daniel always kept his distance from Juli, she knew that, but the fact that Juli was even in his life, so close to him, felt like a betrayal in itself.

Fiona cried for what felt like hours, her sobs gradually fading into exhausted silence. She couldn't stay locked in her room forever, though. Eventually, she forced herself to get up, wiping her tears as she went into the kitchen to clean up the uneaten breakfast. As she moved around the kitchen, her mind drifted to how lonely she had felt for months. She had no one to talk to about her troubles, no one who could understand the pain of being in a loveless marriage.

Just as she was about to finish cleaning, her phone buzzed on the counter. It was her best friend, Maya, calling. Fiona hesitated for a moment before picking it up.

"Hello, Maya," Fiona said, trying to sound normal, but her voice cracked slightly.

"Hello, Fiona," Maya's voice was warm, familiar. "How are you? We haven't talked properly since you got married. You've been so busy."

Fiona forced a small smile, though Maya couldn't see it. "I'm fine. How are you?"

"I'm good too," Maya replied, but then her tone shifted, becoming more concerned. "But your voice… it sounds different. Have you been crying? What's wrong?"

Fiona froze. She had promised herself she wouldn't let anyone know how much she was hurting, but Maya's question broke through the walls she had built around herself. She could feel the tears rising again, and before she could stop herself, they spilled over.

"No, it's nothing," Fiona tried to say, but her voice cracked again. She couldn't lie to Maya. "Why would I cry?"

Maya was silent for a moment, then she spoke softly, "Fiona, even if no one else understands, I do. I'm your best friend, more like a sister. I can tell something is wrong. Tell me what's going on."

And just like that, Fiona couldn't hold back any longer. The sobs that she had tried so hard to contain came pouring out, and she cried into the phone, her words jumbled and incoherent.

"Fiona, hey, it's okay. Why are you crying? What happened?" Maya's voice was filled with concern and urgency, but Fiona couldn't find the words.

After a few moments, Fiona managed to take a deep breath and speak. "I don't want to stay here anymore, Maya. Daniel doesn't love me. No matter how much I do for him, I can never be what he wants. He ignores me all the time, and I just… I just can't do it anymore. I don't know how to reach him. I feel so alone."

Maya listened quietly, her heart aching for her friend. "Oh, Fiona," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea it was this bad. But you don't have to go through this alone. I'm here for you, always. You're not alone."

Fiona sniffed, trying to regain her composure. "I just don't know what to do anymore. I can't live like this. I try and try, but nothing works. I'm tired, Maya. I'm so tired."

Maya's voice was gentle but firm. "Fiona, listen to me. You are strong, even if you don't feel like it right now. We'll figure this out together. I'll come to your house tomorrow, okay? We'll talk more then. Just promise me you won't give up. Not yet."

Fiona nodded, even though Maya couldn't see her. "Okay," she whispered. "Thank you, Maya."

They talked for a little while longer, Maya doing her best to console Fiona and make her laugh, even if just for a moment. By the time they hung up, Fiona felt a little lighter, like the weight on her chest had lifted just a bit.

As she put her phone down, Fiona realized that she wasn't as alone as she had thought. Yes, her marriage was falling apart, and yes, Daniel was drifting further away from her, but she still had people who loved her, people who cared. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to keep going—for now.