Before the wedding, he carried me in his arms, but after—it was like he fell out of love.
When I first met William, I thought I’d hit the jackpot. He was the kind of man they write about in romance novels—attentive, tender, utterly devoted. He didn’t just take an interest in me—he lived for me. Calls every few hours: *How are you feeling? Did you dress warm? Have you eaten today?* If the sky darkened and rain poured, he’d already be outside my office with an umbrella. Every morning, a fresh bouquet on my desk—lilies one day, roses the next, daisies the day after. My colleagues were jealous. I could hardly believe my luck.
He wrapped me in warmth. We’d walk for hours at night, holding hands, chatting about nothing like a pair of schoolkids. Then he proposed—the full works, down on one knee, ring in hand, at the little café where we’d had our first date. He even travelled to meet my parents in Manchester—that’s how serious he was. I was floating on air, like I wasn’t living my life but watching it play out, me as the star of some perfect love story.
Then the fairy tale ended the moment we left the registry office.
At first, the changes were barely noticeable. The morning texts stopped. No more *How’s my love today?* The flowers vanished as if they’d never existed. His kisses turned mechanical, like an obligation, not affection. Before, he couldn’t take his eyes off me. Now, it was like I was invisible.
And at home? He just… shut me out. The same man who used to jump at fixing things, who offered help before I could ask, now just sighed: *If it’s that important, call a handyman.* Or worse: *You wanted this—you sort it.* Won’t wash a dish, won’t sweep the floor, won’t lift a finger. Yet before the wedding, he bragged he could build a house with his bare hands.
I don’t understand. I haven’t changed. I’m still the same—slim, well-kept, pretty. Men still glance my way on the street. But him? It’s like he’s lost all interest, like I’ve become just another piece of furniture. Mundane. Unnecessary.
Mum says, *It’s like that for everyone. Marriage isn’t about romance. Be glad he works, brings money home. Doesn’t drink, doesn’t stray. Count your blessings.* But I can’t live like that. I won’t settle for a man who merely exists beside me. I want to feel loved. Not just comfortably placed.
Last night, I tried to catch his eye. He didn’t notice. Scrolling through his phone, grinning at the screen. And right then, my stomach twisted—what if there’s someone else? Is that why he’s so cold, so distant? Has he betrayed me?
I don’t want to believe it. But what if I’m right?
How do I talk to him? How do I drag out the truth? Because I still love him. Despite everything, I love him. I won’t just hand him to another woman. But could I forgive an affair? Probably not. Girls, anyone else faced this? What do you do when your husband before and after marriage is like two different men? How do you escape the feeling you’re nothing more than decor in his life? I don’t know what to do… but I can’t stay silent anymore.
