I think the love has gone
Youre the prettiest girl in this department, he said then, handing her a bunch of daisies from the flower stall outside the tube station.
Sophie laughed, taking the bouquet. The daisies smelled of summer and something utterly right. Daniel stood before her with the look of someone who knew exactly what he wanted. And what he wanted was her.
Their first date was in Hyde Park. Daniel brought a blanket, a flask of tea, and ham sandwiches his mother had made. They sat on the grass well into the evening. Sophie remembered the way he laughed, tossing his head back. The way his fingers brushed hers almost by accident, only not really. The way he looked at her, as if she was the only person in all of London.
Three months later, he took her to see a French comedy at the Curzon Soho. She didnt understand half the jokes, but laughed along with him anyway. Six months after that, he introduced her to his parents. A year after they met, he asked her to move in.
Were together every night anyway, Daniel said, playing with her hair. Why pay for two flats?
Sophie agreed. Not because of the money, not really. Simply, life made sense with him.
Their little rented one-bedroom flat always smelled of Sunday roast chicken and freshly ironed sheets. Sophie learned to cook his favourite meatballs with garlic and parsley, just like his mother made. In the evenings, Daniel would read her business and finance articles from the Sunday Times. He dreamed of having his own company. Sophie would rest her chin in her hand and believe every word he said.
They made their plans: save for a deposit, then buy their own place. Then a car. Children, of course. Two a boy and a girl.
Well manage it all, Daniel would say, kissing the top of her head.
Sophie nodded. With him, she felt invincible.
…Fifteen years as a couple brought with them routines, things, little rituals. A flat in a good part of town, overlooking the green. A mortgage for twenty years, which they dutifully overpaid, never taking holidays or eating out. A silver Toyota parked below Daniel chose it himself, haggled with the dealer, polished the bonnet every Saturday morning.
A warm, quiet pride grew in her chest. Theyd built everything themselves, without family money, without connections, without luck. Just work, patience, and saving.
She never complained. Not even when she was so tired she fell asleep on the tube and overshot her stop. Not when she just wanted to drop everything and fly off to the seaside. They were a team. Thats what Daniel always said, and Sophie believed him.
His needs came first, always. Shed learned that lesson by heart, built it into her very bones. Bad day at work? Shed make dinner, put the kettle on, just listen. Row with his boss? Shed stroke his hair and whisper that things would get better. He doubted himself? She knew the words to pull him out of the pit.
Youre my anchor, my haven, my rock, Daniel told her during such times.
Sophie smiled. To be someones anchor what could be better?
Bleak patches came along. The first big one was five years in, when Daniels company went bust. He spent three months at home, scrolling job sites, getting gloomier by the day.
The second time was worse. Some colleagues landed him in trouble with paperwork; he not only lost his job but owed a large sum. They had to sell the car to pay it off.
Sophie never reproached him. Not a word, not a look. She picked up extra freelance work, worked late into the night, scrimped on herself. She only cared about him wouldnt he crumble? Would his confidence break?
…Daniel bounced back. Brought in a new job, better than the last. They eventually bought another silver Toyota, almost the same. Life found its groove again.
A year ago, they sat together in the kitchen when Sophie finally said what had been on her mind for a long time.
Maybe its time? Im not in my twenties anymore. If we wait
Daniel nodded, solemn and thoughtful.
Lets start getting ready.
Sophie held her breath. All those years of waiting, planning, hunting for the right time now, finally, it was here.
Shed pictured it a thousand times. Tiny hands wrapped around her finger. The smell of baby powder. Those first steps across their living room. Daniel reading stories at bedtime.
A child. Their child. At last.
Change happened at once. Sophie overhauled her diet, routines, workload. She booked doctors appointments, got tests, started on vitamins. Her career took a backseat, even though they were about to promote her.
Are you sure? her boss asked, peering over her glasses. Opportunities like this come once in a lifetime.
But Sophie was sure. The promotion meant travel, mad hours, stress not good for a pregnancy.
Id rather move to the branch office, she told her boss.
Her boss just shrugged.
The branch was a fifteen-minute walk from home. The job was dull, repetitive, with no prospects. But at least she could leave at six sharp and forget about work on the weekends.
Sophie settled in quickly. Her new colleagues were nice, if a bit unambitious. She made packed lunches, went for lunchtime walks, was in bed before midnight. All for the sake of their future child. For their family.
The cold crept in unnoticed. At first, Sophie thought nothing of it. Daniel had been working hard, was tired. It happened.
But he stopped asking about her day. He stopped hugging her at bedtime. He stopped looking at her the way he did when they first met, when hed called her the prettiest girl in the department.
Home became quiet. Unnaturally quiet. They used to chat for hours about work, plans, silly things. Now Daniel spent the evening glued to his phone. He barely answered her questions. He went to sleep turned away to the wall.
Sophie would lie beside him, staring at the ceiling. Between them, the distance of half a mattress may as well have been a thousand miles.
Intimacy vanished altogether. Two weeks, three, a month she stopped counting. Daniel always had an excuse:
Im exhausted. Lets try tomorrow.
Tomorrow never came.
One night, Sophie finally mustered the courage to ask:
Whats going on? Please, be honest.
Daniel stared past her, eyes fixed on the doorframe.
Nothings wrong.
Thats not true.
Youre overthinking. Its just a phase. Itll pass.
He walked around her, shut himself in the bathroom, and the sound of the shower filled the silence.
Sophie stood in the hall, a hand pressed to her chest. It hurt. A dull, slow ache that never went away.
She lasted another month. Then she couldnt cope, and asked directly:
Do you love me?
A pause. A long, dreadful pause.
I I dont know how I feel about you anymore.
Sophie sat on the sofa.
You dont know?
Daniel finally met her gaze. There was nothing there. Just confusion. Not a flicker of the fire from fifteen years before.
I thinkthe loves gone. Its been gone ages. I didnt say anything because I didnt want to hurt you.
For months, Sophie lived in that hell, not knowing the truth. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, analysing every word, searching for answers. Maybe it was stress at work. A mid-life crisis. Maybe just a bad mood that wouldnt lift.
But really, he just didnt love her anymore. And he kept quiet while she made plans for their future, while she gave up her career, as she prepared her body for motherhood.
The decision hit suddenly. No more maybe, or perhaps itll work out, or lets wait and see. Enough.
Im applying for a divorce.
Daniel went pale. Sophie saw his Adams apple twitch in his throat.
Wait. Dont rush. We can try
Try?
Lets have a baby, yeah? Maybe thatll fix everything. People say children bring you close.
Sophie laughed bitterly, an ugly sound.
A baby will only make everything worse. You dont love me. Why bring a child into this? So we can end up splitting when theres a baby to worry about?
Daniel said nothing. There was nothing left for him to say.
Sophie left that very day. She grabbed the essentials, took a rented room at a friends, and filed for divorce the following week, once her hands stopped shaking.
The division of property looked set to drag on. The flat, the car, fifteen years of shared purchases and decisions. The solicitor talked about valuations and shares and negotiations. Sophie nodded, took notes, and tried not to think about how their life together was now tallied in square feet and horsepower.
Soon she found a tiny flat to rent by herself. Sophie learned to live alone. Cooking for one. Watching silly series without Daniels running commentary. Sleeping crosswise across the bed, just because.
The nights were the hardest. Shed curl up with her face in the pillow and the memories would flood in the daisies from the market, the blankets laid out in Hyde Park, his laugh, his hands, his voice calling her his anchor.
The pain was unbearable. Fifteen years cant just be thrown away like worn-out clothes.
But slowly, running underneath it all, crept something else. Relief. A sense of rightness. Shed made it. Shed stopped just in time, before tying herself to someone with a child, before being trapped for years in a loveless marriage for the sake of a family unit.
Thirty-two years old. Her whole life ahead.
Is she scared? Absolutely petrified.
But shell get through it. Theres simply no other choice.
