Chapter 12 Gone Far

• The days turned into weeks, and the silence between Victoria and Daniel deepened into a chasm that felt insurmountable. Mornings started with a mechanical routine—breakfast prepared, children sent off to school, and obligatory small talk that barely scratched the surface. The emotional distance grew more pronounced, suffocating their once vibrant connection.
• One morning, as Victoria sipped her coffee, she noticed Daniel scrolling through his phone again, his brows furrowed in concentration. The sight tugged at her heart. “Are you working today?” she asked, trying to breach the wall between them.
• “Just catching up on some emails,” he replied without looking up. “Nothing urgent.”
• She nodded, but the disappointment settled heavily in her chest. “You’ve been working a lot lately.”
• “Yeah, it’s busy,” he muttered, finally glancing at her but quickly looking away.
• “I wish we could spend some time together,” she ventured, her voice soft but hopeful.
• Daniel shrugged. “Maybe later. I’ve got to take care of some things this afternoon.”
• Victoria felt the sting of his dismissal. “What things?”
• “Just… stuff,” he said, his tone clipped.
• Silence fell between them, a palpable tension hanging in the air. Victoria fought the urge to push him, to demand more from him, but she remained quiet, knowing it would only lead to more frustration. Instead, she forced a smile, picked up her coffee, and turned her attention to the window, watching the rain patter against the glass.
• The weather matched her mood—a dreary gray that mirrored the emotional fog enveloping their home.
• Later that day, as she folded laundry in the living room, Victoria caught sight of Daniel from the corner of her eye. He was pacing, his phone glued to his ear, his tone urgent. She strained to hear snippets of his conversation.
• “…I can’t keep doing this… Just tell her it’s business… I’ll handle it,” he said, his voice low and tense.
• Victoria’s heart raced, a wave of unease washing over her. She tried to ignore it, reminding herself that he had always been vague about his work. But that instinctive unease transformed into a dull ache in her chest. What was he hiding?
• When he ended the call, Daniel returned to the couch, an unreadable expression on his face. “Everything okay?” Victoria asked, feigning casualness.
• “Yeah, just business stuff,” he said again, his eyes avoiding hers.
• “Seems like it’s been a lot of ‘business stuff’ lately,” she pressed, her frustration bubbling just below the surface. “Are you sure everything’s all right?”
• Daniel sighed, rubbing his forehead as if the pressure was too much to bear. “Can we not do this right now? I’m just tired.”
• Victoria’s heart sank at his words, a familiar sense of hopelessness washing over her. “I’m just trying to understand,” she said, her voice trembling. “I feel like you’re not even here with us anymore.”
• His expression hardened, and he leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms. “You don’t understand what it’s like for me right now, Vic. It’s stressful.”
• “I’m not trying to make it harder for you!” she exclaimed, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “I just want to connect, to talk. Is that too much to ask?”
• “Sometimes it feels like it,” he muttered, frustration clear in his tone.
• Victoria recoiled at his words, the sting of his dismissal piercing through her. “What do you mean by that?”
• “Just… I don’t know, Vic. Maybe you don’t realize how hard it is for me to juggle everything. Maybe you think I’m just slacking off?” He shot back, his voice tinged with annoyance.
• She shook her head, fighting back tears. “I never said that. I just… I miss you. I miss us.”
• “Missing someone doesn’t pay the bills or keep our family together,” he snapped, the tension in his voice a stark reminder of how far apart they had drifted.
• Victoria felt the tears spill over, hot and unwelcome. “I just want to feel like we’re on the same team. But it feels like you’re pushing me away.”
• Daniel sighed deeply, frustration lining his features. “I’m not pushing you away. I just need space. Can’t you see that?”
• “Space? Or is it someone else?” she whispered, the words escaping her lips before she could stop them.
• His expression shifted, anger flashing across his face. “That’s unfair. You’re jumping to conclusions.”
• “Am I?” Victoria’s heart raced, a mix of anger and heartbreak flooding her. “I feel like I’m losing you, Daniel. And I don’t even know why.”
• “I’m still here, aren’t I?” he snapped, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I’m doing the best I can, but I can’t always be available for every little emotion you have!”
• “That’s not what I’m asking for!” she cried, her voice breaking. “I just want to talk to you, but every time I try, you shut me out. It’s like you’re hiding something.”
• Daniel stared at her, his expression cold. “I’m not hiding anything. You’re just overreacting.”
• The silence that followed was deafening, both of them breathing heavily, the air thick with unspoken truths. Victoria’s heart felt heavy with despair. She wanted to scream, to shake him awake, but she knew it would only push him further away.
• “I can’t keep doing this,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper. “I feel like I’m losing you.”
• “Maybe you should consider what that means,” he said, his tone flat, as if the weight of her words didn’t reach him at all.
• Victoria felt the last thread of hope snap within her, the realization settling like lead in her stomach. She watched him walk away, the distance between them feeling more profound than ever. Alone in the living room, she closed her eyes, allowing the tears to fall freely, each one a testament to the love she still held and the heartache that threatened to consume her.
• As the evening wore on, Victoria sat in the silence of their home, surrounded by memories that felt distant. She craved the warmth of connection, the comfort of laughter and understanding, but all that remained was a gnawing sense of abandonment and despair. The thought of a future without Daniel felt unbearable, yet each day brought her closer to a reality she was terrified to face.
• The nights became the hardest for Victoria. Each time she lay in bed, she felt the vast emptiness beside her, where Daniel used to rest, his presence warm and reassuring. Now, the bed felt like a chasm, and she found herself staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the plaster as if they held the answers to her unending pain.
• One night, after another argument that had left her feeling raw and exposed, she rolled over to see Daniel still awake, his back turned to her. The tension in the air felt almost palpable, thick like fog. “Are you going to sleep?” she asked softly, not wanting to disturb the fragile quiet between them.
• “Not sure I can,” he replied, his voice low, almost defeated.
• She hesitated, wanting to reach out, to bridge the distance, but she held back. “Do you want to talk about it?”
• Daniel turned slightly, his face barely visible in the dim light. “What’s there to talk about, Vic? We just keep going in circles.”
• “Maybe if we talked honestly…”
• He scoffed, cutting her off. “Honesty? You want honesty? It feels like you’re constantly digging into every little thing I do.”
• “I’m just trying to understand!” she shot back, her heart racing. “I can’t help but feel like you’re hiding something from me.”
• He turned his back fully to her, his silence louder than any words. Victoria’s chest tightened as she lay there, feeling the weight of his absence. “I just want to be close to you again,” she whispered into the darkness, but the words felt swallowed by the void between them.
• “Close? You mean you want to control everything I do,” he muttered, his voice laced with irritation.
• “Control?” Victoria’s voice trembled. “That’s not what this is about. I just want us to be okay. I want to feel like we’re a team.”
• “We’re not a team right now,” he said, the bitterness in his tone cutting deep. “It feels like you’re against me.”
• “I’m not against you!” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “I just want you to open up to me. You’re shutting me out, Daniel. I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”
• Daniel shifted again, this time sitting up. “You think I want this? You think I’m enjoying being interrogated every night?”
• Victoria felt her heart drop at his words. “I’m not interrogating you. I’m trying to care for you. I love you, Daniel, but I feel like you’re slipping away from me.”
• “Maybe I’m just tired of fighting,” he said, his tone flat. “Maybe I’m tired of feeling like I’m under a microscope.”
• “Fighting for what?” she asked, frustration mingling with despair. “I’m fighting for us! For our family!”
• “Family?” he echoed, his voice tinged with sarcasm. “What does that even mean when you can’t see what’s right in front of you?”
• She felt a sharp sting in her chest at his words. “What do you mean by that?”
• He ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. “Maybe you need to focus less on me and more on yourself.”
• “On myself?” Victoria echoed, her disbelief evident. “How can I do that when I’m constantly worried about you?”
• “Maybe you should just let me handle my problems instead of making them yours,” he snapped, his frustration boiling over.
• “And what if I want to help?” she cried, tears spilling down her cheeks. “What if I need to feel like we’re in this together?”
• Daniel looked away, his silence punctuating the weight of her pain. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” he finally said, his voice almost a whisper.
• “Doing what? Being married? Being a father?” Victoria’s heart raced as the realization hit her. “Is that what you want? To give up?”
• “It’s not about giving up!” he said sharply. “It’s about finding space. You’re suffocating me.”
• The words stung like daggers, and Victoria felt her heart fracture under the weight of his dismissal. “Suffocating you? I’m just trying to hold on!”
• “Maybe it’s time to let go,” he said, his voice cold and final.
• Victoria recoiled, the truth of his statement echoing in the silence. She turned away, the tears flowing freely now, each drop a testament to the heartbreak she felt. She could hardly breathe, the pain so intense that it felt like it was crushing her.
• “Do you even care?” she asked, her voice shaking. “Do you care about us anymore?”
• “I care,” he replied, but the emptiness in his tone said otherwise. “But right now, I can’t do this. I can’t keep pretending everything’s okay.”
• The admission hung heavily between them, a chilling acknowledgment of their reality. She closed her eyes, feeling the heartache swell inside her, as if the weight of their unspoken truths was too much to bear. “I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered.
• “Sometimes, Vic, you have to lose things to understand what they mean,” he said, the finality in his voice crushing her spirit.
• Victoria turned her face into the pillow, allowing her sobs to escape, muffled but raw. The tears flowed unchecked, pooling into the fabric, soaking in her grief. The love she had for Daniel, once vibrant and alive, now felt like a distant memory, slipping through her fingers like grains of sand.
• She felt so alone, the weight of their shared silence an unbearable burden. Every moment that passed seemed to deepen the rift between them, and with each breath, she could feel the last remnants of their love unraveling, leaving her to navigate the painful truth that lingered in the air: they were slowly drifting apart, each lost in their own sorrow, with no clear way back to each other.