Before the wedding, he carried me in his arms, but after—it was as if he fell out of love.
When I first met Daniel, I thought I’d hit the jackpot. He was the kind of man written about in romance novels—attentive, affectionate, caring. He didn’t just take an interest in me, he lived for me. Calls every day: “How are you feeling?” “Did you dress warmly?” “Have you eaten?” If the sky darkened and rain began, he’d already be outside my office with an umbrella. Every morning, a fresh bouquet of flowers—tulips, roses, daisies—would appear on my desk. My colleagues were jealous, and I couldn’t believe my luck.
He wrapped me in warmth. We’d walk hand in hand at night, chattering about nothing, like children. Then he proposed—classic, with a ring, down on one knee, at the café where we’d had our first date. He even travelled to Manchester to meet my parents—that’s how serious he was. I was floating on air, as if I wasn’t living but watching a film where I was the heroine.
But the fairytale ended the moment we left the registry office.
At first, the changes were subtle. The morning texts vanished. The “How’s my love?” calls stopped. The flowers disappeared as if they’d never existed. His kisses became perfunctory, like an obligation, not affection. Before, he couldn’t take his eyes off me—now, he barely seemed to notice.
And at home… he just shut himself off. Where he once grabbed tools first, offering to fix anything, now he’d sigh, “Call a handyman if you need it.” Or, “You wanted this—you deal with it.” He won’t wash a dish, sweep the floor, hammer a nail—it’s all a drama. Even though before the wedding, he bragged he could build a house with his bare hands.
I don’t understand what’s wrong. I haven’t changed. I’m still the same—slender, well-groomed, pretty. Men still glance at me in the street. But him? It’s like he’s lost interest. Like I’ve become ordinary… 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. Appreciate what you have.” But I can’t. I won’t settle for a man who just exists beside me. I want to feel loved. Not just conveniently placed.
Last night, I searched for his gaze. He didn’t notice. He was on his phone, scrolling, smiling at the screen. And in that moment, something twisted inside me—what if there’s someone else? Maybe that’s why he’s cold, indifferent, distant. Could he have 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 the truth out? Because I still love him. Despite everything—I love him. I don’t want to hand him to another woman. But I don’t know if I could forgive him if he’s cheated. Girls, anyone else been here? What do you do when the man before marriage and after are two completely different people? How do you escape feeling like furniture in his life? I don’t know what to do… but I can’t stay silent any longer.
