Chapter 16: The Cold Marriage

The following days were a blur of schedules, meetings, and public appearances. For the world outside, the newlywed couple seemed to have the perfect union—two heirs of powerful families bound together in a flawless alliance. But within the walls of their grand estate, the reality of their marriage was anything but perfect.

Alice could feel the growing chasm between her and Elliot, one that deepened with each passing day. She tried again and again to bridge the gap, but every attempt only seemed to solidify Elliot's emotional distance. He was always polite, never cold or harsh, but his indifference stung more than any rejection.

He had changed. She saw it in everything he did—in the way he conducted business with an air of authority, how his conversations with her were efficient but devoid of any real warmth. Gone were the traces of the man who had once been hopelessly in love with her. Now, Elliot treated their marriage the same way he treated his business dealings—calm, calculated, and impersonal.

One evening, as Alice entered the grand dining room, she found Elliot seated at the head of the table, his phone in one hand while he read a report with the other. A few moments later, he glanced up at her, nodding slightly in acknowledgment but returning to his work almost immediately. The dining table was long and regal, but the space between them felt more vast than ever.

They ate in near silence, save for the clinking of silverware against plates and the occasional shuffle of papers on Elliot's end. Alice couldn't take it anymore—the growing emptiness gnawed at her, and she needed to say something, anything, to break the oppressive silence.

"How was your day?" she asked, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Elliot barely looked up, still focused on his report. "Busy. The board had some issues with the latest acquisition, but it's being handled."

Alice nodded, even though she hadn't really followed his words. "That's good. I was thinking, maybe we could have dinner together tomorrow—no work, just us."

For a brief moment, Elliot's gaze flickered up to meet hers. There was no malice or annoyance in his expression, just mild surprise. "Tomorrow, I have a meeting in the evening. Perhaps another day."

It was the same response she had grown used to—"perhaps another day." She clenched her fork a little tighter, the frustration bubbling up within her. "Elliot, we never spend any time together. We're supposed to be husband and wife, but it feels like we're just… roommates."

Elliot's jaw tightened slightly, but his voice remained measured. "Alice, you know how things are. This marriage was never about spending time together. We have responsibilities, both to our families and the businesses. I'm doing my part."

"But what about us?" she asked, her voice softening with vulnerability. "Is there even an 'us' anymore? Do you even care?"

He put down his fork, finally giving her his full attention. His eyes, once full of adoration, were now unreadable. "You knew what this marriage was from the start. We both agreed. Now we need to focus on what's important—our families' legacy. Personal feelings have no place in that."

Alice felt her heart sink, the last remnants of hope slipping away. It was as if he was completely closed off to anything resembling emotion, focused only on their marriage as a business arrangement.

"But we're more than just business partners," she insisted quietly. "At least, we used to be."

Elliot didn't respond right away. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, studying her with the same analytical gaze he reserved for negotiations. "What do you want from me, Alice? We've been through this before. I can't be the man I used to be. I've changed."

"You don't even try anymore," she whispered, tears threatening to spill. "You don't even look at me the same way."

He sighed softly, running a hand through his hair. "You don't understand. The man you knew, the one who adored you, who would have done anything for you… he's gone. You made sure of that. You told me once that this marriage was about convenience, about power. Well, now that's what it is. That's what I am."

Alice's chest tightened at his words. She had never realized the full extent of the damage she had caused by rejecting him so many times before. The cold indifference she had once shown him had come back to haunt her in the most painful way.

"I didn't mean for it to be like this," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I never thought I'd lose you like this."

Elliot's eyes softened slightly, though his tone remained distant. "You never had me to begin with, Alice. Not really. You only wanted me when it was convenient for you."

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She had thought she could control this marriage, that she could mold it into something she could live with. But now, she realized how foolish she had been. Elliot had become a man she no longer recognized—stronger, colder, and entirely out of her reach.

The rest of the meal passed in silence, the weight of their unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. When they retired to their room later that night, the distance between them felt even more suffocating.

Elliot immediately went to his desk, his work piled high as usual. He was still in his suit, looking every bit the successful businessman he had become. Alice, on the other hand, stood by the bed, unsure of what to do. They were husband and wife, yet the thought of them lying side by side felt almost absurd.

After what felt like an eternity, Alice finally spoke, her voice barely a whisper. "Are you ever going to come to bed?"

"I have work to finish," Elliot replied without looking up. "You can go ahead."

Alice stared at him for a moment, her heart heavy with a mixture of frustration and sadness. She had hoped—perhaps foolishly—that their marriage could be salvaged, that they could find a way back to each other. But now, it seemed like all those hopes were slipping away, drowned by Elliot's relentless focus on his work and his new, hardened persona.

She climbed into bed alone, pulling the covers over herself as she stared at the ceiling. The sound of Elliot's pen scratching against paper filled the room, a constant reminder of the distance between them.

Hours passed, and eventually, the soft rustle of Elliot moving across the room signaled that he was done for the night. Alice felt the bed dip slightly as he lay down beside her, but there was no touch, no words, no acknowledgment of the fact that they were even sharing the same space.

The silence was deafening.

Alice closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep. But as the minutes ticked by, the hollow ache in her chest only grew, a painful reminder of the life she had built—and the love she had lost.

4oYou said:next chapter gradually becoming closer after she helps him during one of his ptsd attacks2/2ChatGPT said:ChatGPT

Chapter 17: A Fragile Bridge

The days turned into weeks, and the emotional distance between Alice and Elliot hung in the air like a thick fog, obscuring the connection they had once shared. While Elliot continued to immerse himself in work, Alice found herself in a constant state of uncertainty, trying to navigate the complexities of their cold marriage.

It was during one of those mundane evenings that everything changed.

Elliot had returned home later than usual, his brow furrowed with stress. Alice watched from the living room as he paced back and forth, the tension radiating off him like heat from a flame. She could see it building, that familiar darkness creeping into his expression—the signs of an impending PTSD attack.

"Elliot," she said softly, her voice cutting through the silence. "Maybe you should take a break? You've been working nonstop."

He didn't respond, his eyes glossed over, focused on something far beyond her reach. She watched as he suddenly halted, his breath hitching. A moment later, he was leaning against the wall, his hands pressed to his temples, the tension in his body becoming palpable.

Alice's heart raced, recognizing the signs of an oncoming episode. The time he had confided in her about the nightmares and memories had felt like a lifetime ago, but now she felt the weight of that knowledge press down on her. She couldn't just stand by and watch him struggle.

"Elliot!" she urged, moving closer. "Look at me."

He shook his head, eyes darting around the room as if he were trapped in a memory he couldn't escape. "No… not again," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

Alice stepped closer, her hands trembling slightly. "Elliot, you're safe. I'm right here. Focus on me, okay?"

She reached out, gently taking his hands in hers. He flinched at first but eventually relaxed his grip. "Elliot, breathe with me," she instructed, her tone soothing. "In… and out. Just like we practiced before. You can do this."

As he followed her lead, she felt a small shift within him. Gradually, he focused on her voice, his breathing becoming steadier. She held his gaze, and for the first time in a long while, there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, a moment where he returned to the present.

"You're okay," she whispered, still holding his hands. "I'm here. I won't let you go."

After what felt like an eternity, Elliot's breathing finally slowed. He blinked several times, as if shaking off the remnants of his panic. He seemed more present now, though the shadows of his past still lingered in his gaze.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice hoarse. "I… I thought I was getting better."

Alice squeezed his hands gently, wanting him to know she was still there. "You are getting better, Elliot. But healing isn't linear. You don't have to go through this alone."

He finally met her eyes, the vulnerability evident in his expression. "I didn't want you to see that side of me," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "I thought I could handle it."

Alice took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. "We're married, Elliot. We're supposed to be a team. You can lean on me."

His shoulders slumped slightly, as if the burden he had been carrying began to lighten. "I don't know how to do that," he confessed, his eyes flickering with a mixture of shame and sadness.

"Then let me help you," she offered softly. "We can figure it out together. I'm not going anywhere."

Elliot remained quiet for a moment, absorbing her words. Slowly, he nodded, his expression shifting to something more hopeful. "I don't deserve your kindness."

"Everyone deserves kindness, Elliot. Especially from the ones who love them," she replied, her heart swelling with a mixture of compassion and determination.

As the night wore on, they sat together on the floor of their living room, still intertwined in each other's hands. The distance that had once seemed insurmountable began to shrink, revealing a fragile bridge they could cautiously cross together.

Over the next few days, Alice remained attentive to Elliot's needs, becoming more involved in his daily life. She made it a point to engage him in light conversation during dinner, sharing stories about her day and the absurdities she encountered. At first, he was hesitant to open up, but slowly, he began to share snippets of his life—the mundane things he once would have laughed about, and the serious decisions weighing on his mind.

With each interaction, she could see the walls around his heart beginning to crack. They shared smiles over coffee, and she caught glimpses of the old Elliot, the one who had adored her.

One evening, as they sat on the couch, Alice pulled out a photo album that had been tucked away in a corner of the room. She flipped through the pages filled with memories from their childhood—pictures of family gatherings, friends, and moments that shaped them into who they were.

"Look at this one," she said, pointing to a picture of them at a carnival, their faces alight with joy as they rode a roller coaster. "You were terrified, but you still wanted to ride it just to impress me."

Elliot chuckled softly, a genuine smile breaking through the somber facade. "I remember that. I think I regretted it halfway up."

They continued to flip through the album, laughter slowly replacing the tension that had clouded their home for so long. Each shared memory became a stepping stone, bridging the gap that had separated them for so long.

But Alice was acutely aware that this change was fragile. The past still loomed over them, and she knew that one misstep could send them spiraling back into the chasm of silence.

One night, as they lay in bed, Elliot turned to her, his expression serious. "Alice… thank you for being there for me. I've been so focused on work and my own struggles that I didn't even notice how isolated I had become."

She turned to face him, her heart swelling with hope. "You don't have to do it alone, Elliot. I want to be part of your journey, however difficult it may be."

For the first time in what felt like ages, Elliot reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. The simple gesture sent a shiver down her spine, igniting a flicker of warmth between them.

"I'm learning to let you in," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's just going to take time."

And for the first time, Alice felt the weight of his words. She knew they were standing on the edge of something new, a tentative beginning toward healing—not just for him, but for both of them.

With a small, hopeful smile, she nodded. "We have all the time in the world."

As they drifted off to sleep, the walls around their hearts felt a little less daunting, and the quiet promises of tomorrow whispered through the air, binding them closer than ever before.