Things had been better between Maxwell and me lately. We were not fighting or arguing like before. The house felt peaceful again, almost like it used to be when everything was easy between us. He had been trying, I could see it. He talked to me more, he smiled sometimes, and he even asked about my day. I noticed those little things because they meant a lot to me. But even with all that effort, he was still so busy. Work always came first. Most nights he came home late, tired, his face drawn and eyes heavy. He would eat quietly, take a shower, and fall asleep before I could even say goodnight.
We were better, yes, but we were not close. There was no spark anymore. We had not made love for months , and though I tried not to think about it too much, it hurt. I missed his touch, his warmth, the way he used to look at me like I was the only woman in the world. Now, sometimes I felt invisible.
The day of the company party, I woke up with a small hope in my chest. Maybe tonight would be different. Maybe after the party, after a few laughs and smiles, he would remember what we used to have. I wanted to look beautiful for him, to remind him that I was still here. That I still cared.
I took my time getting ready. I curled my hair and let it fall around my shoulders. I wore the silver dress he once said he liked, the one that hugged my body just right. I put on light makeup, not too much, just enough to make me glow. When I stood in front of the mirror, I felt good. I hadn't felt that way in a long time.
When Maxwell came out of the room, adjusting his cufflinks, his eyes paused on me for a moment.
He smiled softly. "You look beautiful," he said. He admired me and looked at me a way he hadn't done in a while.
It was a small thing, but it gave me hope that maybe, just maybe, the night would bring us closer again.
The venue was full of people when we arrived. Music played softly in the background, and the lights shimmered like tiny stars across the hall. Everyone was laughing, talking, and raising glasses of champagne. It was a beautiful sight. Maxwell was immediately surrounded by people,colleagues, business partners, even journalists. He had that way of drawing people to him, that quiet confidence that made everyone want to be near him.
I stayed by his side for a while, smiling and nodding when people greeted me, but soon he was pulled into conversation after conversation. Someone called his name, and he turned to them, leaving me standing there. I told myself it was fine. This was his night, after all. He had worked hard for this. I could manage for a while.
I walked over to a corner table and poured myself a glass of anything. Around me, people were laughing, taking pictures, clinking glasses, and dancing. Everyone looked happy. I wanted to feel happy too, but I couldn't. My eyes kept searching for Maxwell. He was across the room, talking animatedly with a group of men. He looked so alive, so confident. I told myself not to be upset, that he couldn't be with me all night. He was the center of attention, and I should be proud of him.
But as the hours passed, he never came to check on me. Not once. I sat alone for so long that even the waiters stopped coming to my table. I smiled at people when they passed by, pretending I was fine, pretending that I wasn't counting the minutes.
Every time I looked at Maxwell, he was deep in another conversation. And every time I thought of going over to him, someone new appeared beside him. Lizzy was there too, as always. She looked perfect,confident, polished, radiant. People seemed to like her instantly. She laughed easily and moved around like she belonged everywhere. I tried to ignore her, but it was hard. Every time I looked, she was there beside him, whispering something or laughing at his jokes.
I told myself it was nothing. They worked together. She had helped him through a difficult time at the company, and maybe they were just talking about work. I wanted to believe that. I tried to.
But then came the moment that broke me.
Someone gave a short speech, praising Maxwell for his leadership and the company's success. People clapped and cheered. Maxwell smiled modestly, and when he was asked to say a few words, he took the microphone. My heart lifted, I thought he might say something kind, maybe even thank me quietly for supporting him at home.
But he didn't.
Instead, he turned and said, "I have to give special thanks to Elizabeth Harold for her brilliance and hard work. None of this would have been possible without her."
He looked right at Lizzy as he said it, smiling in that proud, warm way I hadn't seen directed at me in so long. The crowd clapped. Lizzy smiled back, radiant and pleased. I just stood there, frozen.
He didn't even look at me.
Not one word of acknowledgment. Not one glance.
I felt something inside me crumble. I had spent days making sure the party went smoothly. I had helped plan it, picked the decorations, and made sure everything was perfect. I had wanted him to be proud. But in that moment, it was as if I didn't exist.
I stayed till the end, forcing a smile when people walked by, pretending to be fine when my chest felt tight.
When the party was finally over, I went to the restroom to take a breath and wipe my tears before anyone saw me. I didn't expect to see Lizzy there, standing in front of the mirror, retouching her lipstick.
Our eyes met in the mirror.
"Hi, Rose," she said lightly. "Great party."
I didn't reply. I just walked to the sink and started washing my hands slowly, trying to steady my breath.
She turned slightly toward me. "You don't talk much, do you?" she said with a little laugh. "You should try smiling more. Maxwell likes when people smile."
I bit my lip, holding back the words burning in my chest. I didn't trust myself to speak.
Lizzy chuckled softly and leaned against the counter. "You know, Rose, you shouldn't look so sad. People might start thinking you're jealous."
I turned to her then, my eyes sharp. "Jealous?" I repeated.
She tilted her head, smiling like it was all a joke. "Come on, it's not that deep. You're a beautiful woman, but you act like the world begins and ends with Maxwell. That's not healthy, you know. It makes you look desperate."
Her words stung like fire.
She went on, her voice calm but cruel. "You treat him like he's your God, and that's why you're always miserable. You have no life outside him, Rose. And that's why you're always so grumpy. Men get tired of that, you know. One day he'll get bored and go for something... interesting." She smiled again, that same confident smile that made me want to scream. "Don't worry though," she added, "if I wanted Maxwell, I would have had him a long time ago. We practically grew up together. But I didn't. So maybe you should get a life and stop being weird."
I stared at her, speechless. My throat felt tight, and my eyes filled with tears, but I refused to let them fall in front of her. I just turned away and grabbed a tissue.
Lizzy laughed softly, tossed her hair, and walked out, her heels clicking against the floor like the sound of finality.
As soon as she left, I broke down. I leaned against the sink and cried quietly. Her words kept echoing in my head. You treat him like he's your God. You have no life outside him.
And she was right.
I had built my entire world around Maxwell. My happiness depended on his moods, his attention, his time. When he was happy, I was happy. When he was distant, my whole world felt cold. I had forgotten who I was outside of being his wife.
I wiped my tears, fixed my makeup as best as I could, and walked out. The party was almost over. People were leaving in groups, laughing, holding hands. Maxwell stood near the exit, talking to someone again. He didn't even notice the redness around my eyes. He didn't ask where I had been or if I was tired.
We drove home in silence. He hummed lightly, probably satisfied with how successful the night had been. I sat beside him, staring out the window, feeling empty.
When we got home, he loosened his tie and turned to me. "You were quiet tonight," he said softly.
"I'm just tired," I replied.
He nodded, then reached for me, his hand brushing my arm gently. "You looked really beautiful tonight," he said. His voice was low, the kind of tone that used to make my heart race. He leaned closer, trying to kiss me.
For months, I had wanted him to touch me like that again. I had dreamed of this moment, of feeling close to him. But tonight, something had changed. My heart felt too heavy, too broken.
I pulled away slowly. "Not tonight, Max," I whispered.
He paused, looking confused for a second. Then he just sighed, rolled over, and closed his eyes. Within minutes, he was asleep.
I sat there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the tears gather again.
Lizzy's words came back to me like a cruel song. You have no life outside him. One day he'll get bored.
I realized then that though she was trying to hurt me. She was telling the truth.
I had lost myself somewhere along the way. I had given everything to love him and forgotten how to love myself.
That night, as I lay beside him, listening to the sound of his steady breathing, I made a quiet promise to myself. I had to find out who I was again. Not Maxwell's wife. Not someone waiting for his attention. Just me.
And for the first time, I understood that Lizzy was right.
I needed to get a life outside Maxwell.