The airport lounge bustled around him as Ben stood alone, watching the sun dip beyond the tarmac. The weight of his duffel bag on his shoulder felt light compared to the heaviness in his chest. A few weeks ago, after years of swallowing his feelings, he had finally told Grace how he felt. He hadn’t asked for much, just a little more consideration, a little less feeling like he was on the periphery of his own marriage. Grace’s response had stunned him—she had surprised him with a trip, an adventure to rekindle what he’d feared might be slipping away.

For a brief moment, he’d let himself hope. They’d arrived at the airport with matching smiles, and he’d thought maybe, just maybe, things were turning around. He’d been excited, eager even, as they waited to board. But when his ticket had been scanned, he’d been denied entry because his credentials didn't match. His birthdate was listed wrong on the ticket she'd booked for him. His birthday, after almost a decade together, wasn’t something she had remembered correctly.

Ben had looked back at her, hoping for shared frustration or some sign that she cared as much as he did. But she had only shrugged, muttering something about it being a simple mistake and it being a waste not to go. And then, without hesitation, she had boarded the plane alone, leaving him standing there, stunned.

Now, as the plane soared into the evening sky, Ben finally understood. It wasn't just her inattention—it was her complete indifference. The realization struck harder than the echoing silence that surrounded him, leaving him to wonder how much of his life had been spent hoping for someone who would never care enough to remember.