She’s been silent for a week… What do I do if she’s pushing me away and hiding the truth?
Mila and I have been living together for three years. During this time, I’ve never doubted my feelings for her. I was convinced that she was the one for whom I was ready to change my plans, my personality, and my life. We rented an apartment, settled in, discussed our future, and even decided to stop using contraception because we both knew we were more than just a couple. We were a family. And I dreamed that one day there would be three of us.
However, anxiety crept into my life this week. It all happened by chance. Mila asked me to fetch a lighter from her bag, and without a second thought, I reached in, as usual. I never invaded her personal space—neither her bag nor her phone. Respect is the foundation of love. But at that moment, her bag slipped from my hands, its contents spilling across the floor, and among them was a slender folder with test results. Medical documents, stamped, from a private clinic, and dated recently.
When she returned to the room and saw this, something inside her instantly shut down. She turned pale, grabbed the documents as if they were weapons I had drawn against her. She said nothing, explained nothing. She just closed herself off. And since that moment—not a word. Nothing about doctors or what was happening. A week has passed in oppressive silence.
I’m afraid to ask questions. Not because I don’t want to know the truth, but because she’s likely to flare up and avoid the conversation. She has this nature—if you push, she clams up like an oyster. And I don’t want quarrels. I want closeness. The kind that only exists between two people who trust each other.
Could it be that she’s ill? And she’s unsure how to tell me? Maybe the tests revealed something dire? Or… maybe, on the contrary, she’s pregnant and wanted to surprise me? Or worse… what if it’s not my child? My mind is racing with speculation. I don’t recognize Mila’s glances or her footsteps. She used to share everything, laughing and joking with me. Now, she feels like a stranger.
I’m not just her boyfriend. I’m the one who made plans with her, who wanted to be the father of her children. And if she’s hiding something, it hurts because I’ve never lied to her. From the very beginning, I said: “Betray me, and I’ll leave. No shouting, no revenge. I’ll just disappear.”
I’ve never eavesdropped, never snooped through phones, never interrogated her. I believed in her. But now, the silence is the worst torture. Every day feels like walking through a minefield. She acts like everything is fine: making coffee, folding clothes, smiling at the neighbors. But with me, there’s nothing but silence. It’s as light as a whisper and as scalding as acid.
Yesterday, I tried to talk to her. I began gently, with a joke, as I often do. I asked if she’d like to stroll along the riverbank, like we used to. She replied, “I’ve got a headache.” And then she retreated into herself again.
I’m terrified of making the wrong move. One awkward word, and I might lose her. But I can’t wait any longer. At night, I lie beside her, listening to her breathing and praying she’ll be the woman I love again. That we’ll be us. Not me—and the wall between us.
You might say—just ask. But how do I do that? How do I tell the woman I love, “I feel like you’re hiding something, and it scares me”? How do I make her understand I’m not accusing her, but that I’m worried? That my heart is trembling with fear that something has happened to her.
I don’t want to be another man who pressures, yells, breaks things. I want to be her support. But how can I, if she won’t let me in? Please… what do you do when the silence between two people becomes more significant than any distance?
I love her. I love her so much it hurts. And I want to believe it’s just fear. That soon she’ll hug me and say: “I just got overwhelmed.” But if it’s something else? Can I forgive? Can I forget? Or will this be the moment when “we” becomes “we were”?
