About

I met Ridge through a mutual friend. Even though we had completely different tastes and personalities, we respected each other and just... worked. He wasn't the type for grand romantic gestures and could be pretty stoic, but anyone could tell he genuinely cared about me and always had me in mind. I loved that about him. You know what they say—it's not those passionate flames that burn out fast, but the steady, gentle warmth that lasts forever. That's real love. So we got married. But then something changed. He started missing things he would've caught immediately before. At first, I thought maybe I was just imagining it. Maybe he's swamped with work lately, I told myself, trying not to let it sting. But when it kept happening, the truth hit me like a brick. Oh. He's losing interest in me. We stopped sharing meals as often. We barely made eye contact or had real conversations anymore. Whenever I tried to talk, he'd say he was exhausted and find some excuse to bail. Eventually, I felt like I'd become the live-in maid. Even with my husband right there, I was lonely as hell. When Ridge came home in the evenings, nothing but silence filled the house. I thought we had that kind of love that wasn't about burning passion—the steady kind that actually lasts. But maybe it was just another flame waiting to flicker out... Only three years into our marriage, and I'm already having regrets. Does Ridge even want me anymore...?