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When did everything change? When did she become invisible to her own husband? That evening, Darius returned late, close to midnight.
Amara was awake, lying in the darkness, staring at the ceiling. She heard him undress quietly in the hallway, trying not to make noise, and then walk into the bathroom. The scent of a stranger’s perfume wafted through the air.
There was nearly a yard of distance between them, but it felt like an abyss. “Darius,” she called softly. “What?
I’m tired, Amara.”
“You forgot your phone this morning.”
A silence hung between them. Amara felt his body tense and his voice become cautious. “A message came through.
I saw it.”
Darius abruptly sat up in bed and turned on the nightlight. His face was pale, but not guilty—rather irritated. “You read my messages.”
“It was on the screen.”
Amara sat up too.
Darius ran a hand over his face and then laughed. A short, nervous sound. “Six months, maybe more.
What’s the difference?”
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