Chapter 9 Support

• The following day was gray and overcast, a perfect reflection of Victoria’s mood. She stared out the window, watching the rain fall in soft, relentless sheets, feeling as if the world outside mirrored the turmoil inside her. Despite Sophie’s encouragement, the heaviness in her chest didn’t lighten.
• “Vic?” Sophie’s voice broke through the fog of her thoughts. She entered the living room, a warm cup of tea in her hands. “I thought you might like this.”
• “Thanks,” Victoria replied, taking the steaming mug. She wrapped her fingers around it, letting the warmth seep into her cold hands, but the gesture couldn’t thaw the chill that had settled deep within her.
• Sophie perched on the edge of the coffee table, leaning forward, concern written all over her face. “I know it’s tough right now, but you really need to think about your happiness. You can’t let this situation consume you.”
• “I just don’t know how to be happy right now,” Victoria admitted, her voice heavy with resignation. “Everything feels so… dark. I don’t even recognize myself anymore.”
• “Maybe it’s time to start rediscovering who you are,” Sophie suggested gently. “You’ve poured so much of yourself into being a wife and mother, but you’re more than just that. What about your dreams? Your interests?”
• “I don’t even know what I want anymore,” Victoria confessed, her eyes drifting to the floor. “It feels selfish to think about myself when everything is falling apart.”
• “It’s not selfish,” Sophie insisted, her tone firm. “You deserve to be happy and fulfilled, not just existing in the shadows of someone else’s choices. You’ve always had dreams. What happened to those?”
• “I used to love painting,” Victoria replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I haven’t picked up a brush in ages. It feels like I’ve lost touch with that part of me.”
• “Then why not start again?” Sophie encouraged, her eyes brightening with enthusiasm. “Just for you. No expectations, just pure expression. It might help you find a little joy in this chaos.”
• “I don’t know if I can,” Victoria murmured, fear creeping in. “What if it just reminds me of everything I’ve lost?”
• “It’s about reclaiming what’s yours,” Sophie countered. “You can’t let Daniel’s actions dictate your happiness. You have the power to take control of your life again.”
• Victoria took a deep breath, contemplating Sophie’s words. “I want to believe that, but it feels so far away. How do I even begin?”
• “Start small. Maybe a few strokes on a canvas or a couple of lines in a journal. Just something that’s yours,” Sophie suggested. “You can’t lose yourself in this, Vic. You’re stronger than you think.”
• “But what if he doesn’t care?” Victoria said, the pain creeping back in. “What if I start to move on, and he’s still out there… living his life?”
• Sophie reached out, placing a comforting hand on Victoria’s knee. “He doesn’t get to dictate your worth or your happiness. You need to focus on you. His actions don’t define who you are.”
• “I just feel so lost,” Victoria admitted, tears welling up in her eyes. “I don’t even know where to start.”
• “Let’s make a list,” Sophie suggested, pulling out her phone. “What do you love? What brings you joy?”
• “I loved going to the farmer’s market,” Victoria said, her brow furrowing in thought. “And I used to enjoy hiking with the kids. And… painting. I used to lose myself in it.”
• “Great! Let’s write those down. And let’s add more,” Sophie said, tapping furiously on her screen. “What about trying a yoga class or even just going for a walk to clear your head?”
• “I haven’t even been able to walk to the mailbox without feeling like I’m going to break down,” Victoria replied, her voice trembling. “It’s like a weight is pressing down on me.”
• “Then let’s take it one step at a time,” Sophie replied, her voice steady. “You don’t have to do it all at once. You just need to start moving in the right direction.”
• “What if I fail?” Victoria asked, a flicker of fear crossing her face. “What if I try to pick up painting and can’t even remember how?”
• “Then you’ll have tried, and that’s what matters,” Sophie said, her tone reassuring. “It’s not about perfection. It’s about finding a piece of yourself again. Just take it slow.”
• “I feel like I’m drowning in this sadness,” Victoria admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know if I can swim back to the surface.”
• “Maybe you don’t have to swim right now,” Sophie suggested gently. “Just let yourself float. Don’t pressure yourself to be ‘okay’ right away. Healing takes time.”
• Victoria nodded, taking a deep breath as she wiped away a tear. “I want to feel better. I just don’t know how.”
• “By taking the first step, no matter how small,” Sophie said, squeezing Victoria’s hand. “You have to put yourself first. Your happiness matters.”
• As the rain continued to patter against the windows, Victoria felt a flicker of something—perhaps hope, perhaps the promise of possibility. It was a fragile thing, but it was there.
• “What if I’m not strong enough?” Victoria asked quietly.
• “You are,” Sophie reassured her. “You just need to believe it. Start small. We can do this together.”
• Victoria managed a small smile, her heart still heavy but feeling a little lighter with each word. “Okay, let’s try.”
• Sophie beamed at her, the warmth in her eyes contagious. “That’s the spirit! Let’s make this list and plan a little adventure for the weekend. Something just for you.”
• As Sophie continued to brainstorm, Victoria felt the glimmer of a path ahead. It wasn’t clear or straightforward, but it was a start—one she hoped could lead her back to herself, even if it would take time. She allowed herself to sit in the possibility, not quite ready to let go of the heartbreak, but open to the idea of rediscovery.
• ———
• Victoria stood in the kitchen, absentmindedly stirring the pasta as the evening light poured through the window. The familiar smell of garlic and basil filled the air, but it did little to comfort her. The truth lingered in the back of her mind like a haunting melody: Daniel was cheating.
• The sound of the front door creaking open pulled her from her thoughts. She turned, bracing herself for the sight of him. Daniel stepped inside, his expression a mixture of weariness and something else she couldn’t quite place.
• “Hey,” he said, his voice slightly slurred.
• “Hey,” she replied, her heart sinking at the sight of him. He looked disheveled, his hair slightly messy, and the faint scent of perfume clung to his shirt—a smell that wasn’t hers. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus on the food.
• “Long day?” she asked, keeping her tone light.
• “Yeah, something like that,” he muttered, heading to the fridge and pulling out a beer. “You know how it is.”
• Victoria nodded, her heart racing. “The kids were asking about you. They miss you.”
• “Yeah, I miss them too,” he replied, taking a long swig of his drink. He glanced at her, but there was an uncomfortable distance in his gaze, as if he were looking right through her. “I’ve just been busy.”
• “Busy or… preoccupied?” she ventured, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.
• He paused, the question hanging in the air. “What do you mean by that?”
• “I mean, you’ve been coming home late a lot. I worry,” she said carefully, feeling the tension crackle between them. “It’s not just work, is it?”
• Daniel turned his back to her, busying himself with the fridge as if the cold shelves could provide some kind of comfort. “It’s nothing you need to worry about. I’m just trying to make ends meet.”
• “Ends meet?” Victoria echoed, her voice trembling. “It feels like there’s something more. Like you’re hiding something.”
• “Stop overreacting, Vic. I’m fine,” he snapped, irritation creeping into his tone.
• “Are you?” she pressed, her heart aching with every word. “Because I can smell her perfume on you, Daniel.”
• He froze, the tension in the room escalating. “What are you talking about?”
• “I’m talking about the perfume on your shirt. I know it’s not mine.” Her voice wavered, but she pressed on. “You can’t keep pretending everything is okay when I can see it’s not.”
• “You’re imagining things,” he retorted, trying to brush her off. “I don’t have time for this.”
• “Time for what? For honesty?” Victoria felt a tear slip down her cheek, a physical manifestation of the heartbreak she was trying to suppress. “You’re lying to me. To us.”
• Daniel scoffed, shaking his head. “This again? You’re just looking for problems. I’m here, aren’t I?”
• “But are you really?” she countered, her heart racing with desperation. “You come home late, you avoid my questions, and I can’t even remember the last time we had a real conversation.”
• “I told you I’m busy!” he shouted, frustration boiling over. “You don’t understand how hard it is for me right now.”
• “I understand more than you think,” she replied, her voice quiet. “I understand that you’re not the same man I married. You’re hiding things, and I can feel it.”
• “Feelings aren’t facts, Vic,” he said dismissively, turning away from her. “You need to stop making assumptions.”
• “Assumptions? This isn’t an assumption, Daniel!” she shouted, her heart racing. “I found the texts. I know about her.”
• His expression faltered for a brief moment before he regained his composure, crossing his arms defensively. “You’ve got it all wrong. Those are just friends from work. You’re taking things out of context.”
• “Context?” Victoria laughed bitterly, wiping her tears. “How do you put that kind of context on texts that are clearly more than friendly?”
• “I don’t have time for this,” he said, his voice cold. “You’re being dramatic.”
• “Dramatic?” she echoed, the weight of his words crushing her. “You think this is dramatic? I’m just trying to reach you. I’m trying to save what’s left of our marriage.”
• Daniel rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply. “You need to chill out. Maybe I just need some space.”
• “Space?” she whispered, her heart breaking further. “Is that what you really want? Because it feels like you’re already a million miles away.”
• “Honestly, I just want to relax when I get home. I don’t want to deal with this,” he replied, his voice hardening.
• Victoria felt the breath leave her lungs. “You don’t want to deal with your wife? With your family? What does that say about us?”
• “Maybe we’re just going through a rough patch,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze.
• “A rough patch?” she repeated, tears streaming down her face. “It feels more like a chasm. I don’t recognize you anymore, Daniel.”
• He shrugged, his indifference cutting deeper than any argument could. “You’re blowing this out of proportion. Just let it go.”
• “Let it go?” she whispered, her heart aching with the finality of his words. “How can I let go of someone I love who’s slipping away?”
• “I’m still here,” he insisted, but there was a distance in his eyes that spoke volumes. “You’re just not seeing it.”
• With that, he walked away, leaving Victoria standing in the kitchen, heartbroken and shattered. The silence that followed felt deafening, an unbearable reminder of the love they once shared and the betrayal that now stood between them like an insurmountable wall.
• As she wiped her tears, Victoria felt the weight of unspoken words settle in her chest. She knew their marriage was unraveling, and as much as she wished for clarity, all she had was the aching knowledge of his infidelity and the painful distance that stretched between them.