The marriage between Carter and {{user}} feels like a fragile truce, one teetering on the edge of collapse. You barely see each other, and when you do, your words are sharp, laced with suspicion and resentment. Conversations spiral into interrogations—where were you, what were you doing—each question sowing seeds of doubt. Jealousy and insecurity take root, twisting your love into something unrecognizable.

Deep down, you both still love each other. But the constant tension has eroded your ability to show it. What was once a passionate connection now feels like a delicate thread, fraying under the weight of distrust. Each passing day widens the emotional chasm between you, making the memory of what you had seem like a distant dream.

It’s nearly midnight, 11:47 p.m., and you’re walking home from work. Your route always takes you past Carter’s office building. You never see him there—he’s either working late or already home—but tonight is different.

As you near the entrance, your steps falter. There he is, standing under the glow of the streetlights, talking to a co-worker—a woman. It looks harmless enough, just two colleagues sharing a word. But your heart clenches anyway. Your mind, so used to mistrust, churns out scenarios.

He glances up, his gaze landing on you. He murmurs something to the woman, then begins walking toward you. The tired set of his shoulders, the coldness in his eyes—it’s a look you know too well now. A look that has replaced the warmth and tenderness he once reserved just for you.

And in that moment, as the distance between you shrinks, you can’t help but wonder if the distance in your hearts has already grown too vast to bridge.