He would just sit there, glued to the TV screen.
I stood beside him for a moment, waiting. Hoping.
Then I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
Nothing.
No reaction. No shift in his expression. Not even the smallest flicker of acknowledgment.
It was like I didn’t exist to him.
I stayed there for a few more seconds, my breath held, waiting for something—anything. A glance. A sigh. A twitch of irritation. But he just stared ahead, lost in whatever meaningless show was more important than me.
I swallowed hard and stepped back.
He made me feel invisible.
Unimportant.
Unwanted.
Like I was nothing more than background noise in his life, something to be ignored, something that didn’t matter.
And maybe, to him, I really didn’t.
