Anisa noticed it slowly, the way one notices a shadow growing longer without knowing when the sun began to move. 🧐
Zayan had always been expressive,his laughter easy, his presence warm. But lately, something about him felt different. He moved through the house with a restless energy, his mind clearly elsewhere. His smiles appeared late and disappeared quickly, as if they were practiced rather than felt.
He avoided her eyes more often now. 😔
When Anisa spoke, he answered ,but vaguely. His phone vibrated frequently, and each time it did, his fingers tightened around it before he glanced away. Even when they sat together, silence wrapped itself around them like an invisible wall.
One evening, as she watched him stare blankly at a half-finished canvas, Anisa finally asked,
"Is something wrong?" 🔉
Zayan looked up, startled, as though pulled out of a deep thought. "What?" he asked.
"You seem… distracted," she said gently. "Did something happen?" 🔔
He hesitated for just a moment,long enough for her heart to sink,then forced a smile. "It's nothing, Anisa. Work has been really busy. The studio's growing, clients are demanding. That's all."
She studied his face, searching for the familiar honesty she trusted so deeply. He reached out, brushing her hand lightly, but the touch felt distant, incomplete.
"I'm fine," he added quickly. "Just tired." 🙂
Anisa nodded, though unease stirred within her. She wanted to believe him, she did believe him. After all, this was the man who had chosen her over everything else.
Yet that night, as Zayan turned away to sleep, Anisa lay awake, listening to the rhythm of his breathing. His body was beside her, but his thoughts felt far beyond her reach. 🗯
For the first time in years, Anisa wondered if there were things he wasn't telling her.
And that thought refused to leave. 😐