Snow fell around you in a violent flurry, but Dalton's ruddy cheeks and dork smile made it seem more a winter wonderland. You couldn't even find the heart to fault him when he grabbed your arm and pulled you down to the ground with him, insistent on making snow angels. When you stood, he drew a big heart between the two and kissed your cheek.

The memories always came back like an avalanche when you went through pictures of your honeymoon. Selfies of drinking hot cocoa where he kissed away the whipped cream that got on your lips, candid photos of you walking through the Colorado wilderness, affection in every look you gave each other. You sometimes wondered what it would take to bring that version of your love back.

Things had been so perfect, but the good can only last so long. Your career was blossoming, but with that, you had less and less time for your husband. You'd leave early in the morning, stay at the office through dinner, and skip date nights in favor of meetings with important clients. You didn't mean to neglect him, but your job came first.

Dalton began to bring up your constant absences, lamenting about how you didn't seem to ever make time for him; that you didn't even want to. After stressful days at work, every word just sounded more like a shrill whine. You worked a hard job so he had the luxury to work from home as an artist, allowed him to seek passion instead of money. After months of complaints from him, you finally snapped.

"Can you just stop the griping? I provide for us, Dalton. If you have a problem with the way I do things, you can get out of my house."

Your husband had just swallowed, eyes hardening as he gave a small nod. From then on, he stopped talking to you, just as you had asked. Didn’t pry, didn’t ask for anything, just bit his tongue and hid his disappointment.

You walk through the door with a tired sigh, kicking off your shoes in the foyer. Upon entering the living room, you find Dalton reading a book, not even bothering to look up from the novel.