Chapter 4 Silent Cry

• The next afternoon, Victoria found herself nestled in a corner booth at their favorite café, a cozy spot where she and Sophie had met countless times over the years. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries filled the air as she wrapped her hands around a steaming mug, feeling a comfort she hadn’t realized she needed.
• Sophie arrived with her usual burst of energy, sliding into the seat across from her and giving Victoria a playful but scrutinizing look. “Alright, spill. You have that ‘I need to vent but don’t want to burden anyone’ face. What’s going on?”
• Victoria managed a small smile, trying to downplay her unease. “It’s nothing really, just the usual…work, Ethan, Daniel being swamped at the office.”
• Sophie tilted her head, her expression softening. “Come on, Vic. You know you don’t have to brush things off with me. Tell me what’s actually bothering you.”
• Victoria sighed, leaning back against the plush booth cushion. “I don’t know, Soph. Lately, things just feel…off. Like, there’s something missing, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. And Daniel—he’s been acting strange too. Distant, maybe? It’s like there’s this wall between us, and I can’t figure out where it came from or how to break through it.”
• Sophie nodded, taking a thoughtful sip of her iced latte. “You’ve always been so tuned into everyone else’s needs—Ethan’s, Daniel’s, even your students. But when was the last time you did something just for you?”
• Victoria paused, taken aback by the question. She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came to mind. She’d spent years in the rhythm of routines, of taking care of her family, of blending herself into the roles of wife and mother so seamlessly that the idea of “just for me” felt foreign.
• “See?” Sophie said, her voice gentle but firm. “You’re allowed to have interests outside of being a mother and a wife, Vic. I think maybe that’s the missing piece you’re feeling. You’ve given so much of yourself to everyone else that you might have forgotten what it’s like to be just you.”
• The words struck a chord, and Victoria’s shoulders slumped a little as she processed them. “Maybe you’re right. I used to love painting, but that was so long ago… Now I can’t even imagine where I’d find the time for it.”
• “Start small,” Sophie encouraged, leaning forward. “Pick up a sketchpad or take a weekend class. Do something just for fun, even if it’s only an hour a week. You deserve that, Vic.”
• Victoria hesitated. “But…I don’t know. It feels a little selfish, doesn’t it? I mean, between taking care of Ethan and all of Daniel’s work commitments, it feels like my duty to keep things running smoothly.”
• Sophie rolled her eyes, a teasing but affectionate smile on her face. “Selfish? Please. The world isn’t going to fall apart if you take a little time for yourself. In fact, you might find that a happier, more fulfilled you is even better for Ethan and Daniel.” She shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. “And besides, the more you let yourself explore, the more you’ll understand what’s actually missing.”
• Victoria was silent, her mind turning over Sophie’s words. It was like a door had cracked open, letting in a sliver of light she hadn’t even realized was there. She had a sudden memory of herself as a young girl, sitting for hours with her sketchbook, completely absorbed in bringing images to life on paper. She hadn’t thought of that feeling in years.
• Seeing the introspective look on her face, Sophie nudged her playfully. “So? What do you think? Maybe a small project? You could even start with something low-key, like those paint-and-wine nights they have downtown.”
• Victoria let out a laugh, the idea both ridiculous and oddly tempting. “You mean the ones where everyone ends up with a glass of wine in one hand and a paintbrush in the other, trying to paint landscapes? I’d probably end up with a mess.”
• “Exactly! It’s supposed to be fun, not perfect,” Sophie grinned. “Imagine it: you, a glass of wine, a blank canvas. Who knows, you might end up creating a masterpiece.”
• Victoria felt a warmth spreading through her, a flicker of excitement she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Maybe… I’ll think about it.”
• Sophie gave her a triumphant smile, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “That’s all I ask. Just consider it. Life doesn’t have to be one long to-do list, you know. You’re allowed to have things that are just for you.”
• The conversation shifted after that, flowing naturally into lighter topics. They laughed about old memories, gossiped about mutual friends, and shared stories about Sophie’s recent design projects. But as they chatted, Victoria couldn’t shake the lingering feeling that maybe Sophie was right—maybe this restlessness she’d been feeling was a reminder that she’d forgotten herself somewhere along the way.
• After their coffees were long finished, they stepped outside, hugging goodbye with promises to meet up soon. As Victoria walked back to her car, Sophie’s words replayed in her mind. The idea of reconnecting with herself, of rediscovering something beyond the roles she’d inhabited for so long, felt both frightening and exhilarating.
• When she got home, Ethan was already in his pajamas, clutching a picture book in his tiny hands. She sat down beside him, her mind still buzzing with the thoughts Sophie had sparked. She read to him, feeling a rare lightness settle over her as she watched his eyes grow heavy with sleep.
• That night, after Ethan was tucked in and the house was quiet, Victoria found herself staring at a blank sheet of paper she’d grabbed from the printer. She picked up a pen and, hesitating only a moment, began to draw—lines at first, simple shapes. But as her hand moved, each stroke brought back a bit more of the girl she’d once been, the girl who’d once felt at home with herself and her dreams.
• Maybe, she thought, Sophie was right.
• The sound of the front door clicking shut snapped Victoria out of her quiet reverie. She looked up from the sketch she’d been working on—her first attempt in years—to see Daniel’s familiar silhouette in the dim hallway. The scent of cologne and something sweeter, almost floral, drifted in, catching her off guard.
• Daniel stumbled a little as he made his way through the hall, unbuttoning his shirt with lazy, haphazard fingers. His eyes were glazed, but he managed a smile when he saw her. “Hey… you’re still up,” he slurred, running a hand through his hair before reaching to steady himself against the wall. His breath carried a faint trace of wine, mingling with the unfamiliar perfume that clung to his clothes.
• Victoria’s heart clenched as she noted the faint, delicate scent—one that was certainly not her own. It lingered, seeming to swirl around them both, taunting her with its presence. For a split second, her mind reeled with questions she didn’t want to voice.
• “Yeah… couldn’t sleep,” she said softly, trying to keep her voice steady as she watched him. She swallowed hard, willing herself not to notice the small details—his collar slightly wrinkled, the top button missing, the unmistakable hint of makeup on the edge of his sleeve. She felt an ache that gnawed at her, but she forced a calm smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tremor in her hands.
• Daniel nodded, his gaze wavering. “Long night at work… you know how it is.”
• “Of course,” she replied, her voice a barely-there whisper, wondering if she sounded as hollow as she felt. She stood, her arms instinctively wrapping around herself, her fingers digging into her elbows as though they could hold her together.
• Without saying anything else, Daniel headed toward their bedroom. The scent lingered in the air, marking his trail as he moved down the hall. Victoria followed in silence, her feet moving as if by instinct, her heart racing with a mixture of dread and disbelief.
• In the bedroom, Daniel tossed his shirt onto the bed and sloppily undid his watch before heading to the bathroom. She heard the water turn on and the muffled sound of him rummaging around. He was already stepping into the shower when she approached the doorway, watching his silhouette through the fogged glass. She took a shaky breath, steadying herself against the bathroom door frame, and hesitated.
• Her mind flashed to a thousand questions, each one pushing against the walls of her chest, but the words stayed trapped inside. She leaned back, her hand clutching the edge of the door, feeling the cool surface beneath her palm as if it could anchor her.
• After a moment, she turned away, unable to bring herself to say anything. She forced herself to walk back to the bedroom, each step feeling heavier than the last. She wanted to cry, to scream, to demand an answer—but instead, she sank down onto the bed, burying herself under the covers, feeling the weight of the evening press down on her.
• Lying there, staring into the dark, Victoria tried to gather herself. She pressed her face into her pillow, willing her thoughts to quiet, willing herself to fall asleep before Daniel returned from the shower. She felt the bitter sting of tears pressing against her eyes, and her breath hitched as she fought to hold them back. She was tired—of worrying, of doubting, of feeling like she was on the edge of something she couldn’t quite name.
• When Daniel finally returned, smelling of soap and dampness, she closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. He settled beside her with the weight of someone who was blissfully unaware, or at least indifferent, to the turmoil he had left in his wake. Victoria’s heart pounded as she lay there, pretending to breathe steadily, pretending that everything was fine.
• In the dark, she felt the distance between them more clearly than ever, the silence settling between them like an invisible wall she didn’t know how to break through. And as she lay there, alone with her thoughts, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the life she thought she’d built with him was starting to slip away, piece by piece, with each unspoken word and each unfamiliar scent that lingered in the air.