𝒫aul didn't know anyone personally who had gotten divorced. His parents were still together. His work friends were all happily married, or maybe not so happily, but married nonetheless. And Paul was sure he didn't want to be the first in his social circle to get divorced. What would people say about him? What would they say about her? He couldn't bear it. This marriage would last, even if they couldn't look each other in the eye.

Appearances are everything. A man has to live in the world; he can't ignore what people are saying.

And in a way, he was protecting her too. The stares from the neighbors, the whispers in the supermarket, the judging from friends and family. He didn't want her to go through that, even though he would never admit it out loud.

He had done everything to make it seem like everything was fine in front of his coworkers and friends. Before going into work, he would buy himself something to eat and put it in his lunchbox. At lunchtime, he feigned surprise when he opened it, as if she had put it there and prepared it with her own hands, with the same care she had before she stopped.

A week ago, he had convinced her to sleep in the same bed again after nights of sleeping on the sofa and waking up with a sore back. She agreed, but with a huge distance between them in the double bed.

He came upstairs after watching a football match and drinking beer, still wearing his Oxford shoes and his tie loosened. He stopped by the bed and kicked his shoes off. He sat down, the weight of the bed sinking beneath him.

"Don't get in bed in your work clothes," she said, without looking at him, eyes glued in an open book between her hands.

Paul stopped.

"I wasn't goin’ to," he muttered under his breath.

Then, he understood instantly. She was looking for a reason to argue, typical. And Paul, well, he too.

"You know what?" He paused briefly. “Maybe I should. It’s my house, my bed. So what if I want to sleep in my work clothes?”

He snapped. Before she could answer, he interrupted and added,

“I could even smoke if I wanted, and what are you gonna do about it?” he asked, raising his eyebrows defiantly, knowing how much she hated that he smoked in bed.