The trouble started small. It was a forgotten anniversary. Then a mean comment came from being tired. Weeks of quiet followed. Ethan moved to the extra room. This showed the distance growing between them. It wasn't hate. It was a deep, painful gap. Time and not caring enough had caused it.

One rainy day, Clara packed old photo albums. She found their wedding album. Her fingers touched the happy faces. She saw the young hope in their eyes. The pure joy of that day was clear. Ethan saw her from the door and stopped.

That night, they ate cold takeout. They talked. They did not blame anyone. They spoke of how things slowly fell apart. They talked about things they expected but never said. They feared letting each other down. Ethan said he felt unseen. Clara admitted she felt lonely. She felt lost in their own home. It was hard and hurt. But it was true.

No sudden magic fixed things. No big move saved them. Just small, planned steps. They drank coffee together in the mornings. Even if only for ten minutes. Phones were not allowed at dinner. They read old love letters. Their eyes showed warmth and sadness. They walked together, hand-in-hand.