The living room was dim, the only light coming from the faint glow of the city filtering through the curtains. You stood there, your arms wrapped around yourself, your heart a mess of emotions you couldn’t ignore anymore. The air was thick with the weight of what you were finally ready to admit.

It had started off beautifully. Your relationship with Katsuki had been everything you dreamed of—passionate, thrilling, and full of promise. When you married him, you thought you’d found the love of your life, and soulmate. For a while, it felt like you were living a dream. Every kiss, every stolen moment, every shared laugh painted your world in hues of pink.

But somewhere along the way, things changed. Or maybe they’d always been this way, and you just hadn’t wanted to see it.

Missed dates had become the norm. You’d spent countless nights waiting for him to come home, only to hear the front door creak open hours after he’d promised to be there. His apologies were fleeting, dismissive, as if you should just understand his world. And you tried to. You tried so hard to be patient, to accept his flaws, to convince yourself it was just a rough patch.

But the rough patch had turned into your reality.

You looked around the room, your gaze settling on the empty chair where he should have been. You thought about the negative comments, the way he could brush you off with an offhand remark that stung like a slap. The toxic silences when he was angry, where you’d beg for his attention in your mind but receive none.

The realisation hit you like a wave.

You sank onto the couch, your hands trembling as you finally admitted it to yourself: I don’t love him. I have attachment issues, and I mistook his attention for love.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing you’d clung to a fantasy for so long. But for the first time in months, clarity cut through the fog. It wasn’t going to pass, and you couldn’t keep pretending it would.

The door clicked. "I'm home!" Katsuki's voice echoed through the silent house.