Give Me a Reason: The Quiet Unraveling of a Marriage and the Hope for a Second Chance

Have a good day, Daniel leaned in, brushing his lips against her cheek.

Charlotte nodded automatically. Her skin felt cool and dry where hed touched herno warmth, no irritation. Just skin, just a touch. The front door closed, and the flat swelled with silence.

She lingered by the coat stand for ten more seconds, listening to the echo inside herself. When did it happen? When did something deep inside simply switch off? Charlotte remembered crying in the bath two years ago because Daniel forgot their anniversary. How a year ago fury had gripped her when he once again failed to pick up Harriet from nursery. Half a year back shed still tried to talk, to explain, to plead.

Nowemptiness. Flat, clean, as if a field burned bare.

She drifted to the kitchen, poured herself some coffee, and sat at the little table. Twenty-nine years old. Seven spent as a wife. Now here she was in a still, empty flat with a cooling cup, untangling the realisation that shed fallen out of love so quietly, so ordinarily, that even she hadnt noticed it happening.

Daniel trundled through life by habit. Said hed collect their daughter from nurserythen forgot. Promised to sort the leaking tap in the bathroomit had dripped for three months straight. Hed swear this weekend theyd finally make it to the zoocome Saturday, hed have urgent footie plans; Sunday was for loafing on the sofa.

Harriet stopped asking when Daddy would play with her. At five, shed sussed: Mum is safe. Dad is someone who sometimes turns up in the evenings and stares at the telly.

Charlotte no longer raised a row. Didnt weep into the pillow; no longer drafted plans to salvage the ship. She simply factored Daniel out of her lifes equation.

Needed the car for its MOT? She booked it herself. Balcony door stuck? She found a tradesman. Harriet needed a snowflake costume for the Christmas show? Charlotte stitched it by moonlight while her husband snored in the next room.

Her family was now a bizarre contraption: two adults on criss-crossing tracks, sharing a roof but not a life.

One night, Daniel reached out to her in bed. Charlotte gently moved away, citing a headache. Next time, tiredness. Then illnesses that werent real. Brick by brick, she raised a walleach refusal another layer.

Let him find someone else, she thought frostily. Let him hand me a reason. A proper, concrete reason my mother and in-laws will receive gratefully. One that needs no explanations.

How do you tell your mother youre leaving your husband just because hes nothing? He doesnt hit, doesnt drink, brings home the bacon. So what if hes hopeless at the choresarent all men just the same? Never mind hes useless with kidsmen simply arent meant for parenting.

Charlotte opened a bank account in her name and funnelled some of her salary across. Joined a gymnot for Daniel, for herself. For that foggy, beckoning life shimmering somewhere beyond an inevitable split.

In the evenings, once Harriet was asleep, Charlotte slipped on headphones and listened to podcasts in English. Phrases, business correspondence. Her company dealt with clients from the continent; fluent English would open new doors.

Professional training filled two nights a week. Daniel grumbled about watching Harrietthough for him, watching meant switching on Peppa Pig and getting lost in football scores.

Saturdays and Sundays became Charlotte-and-Harriet time. Parks, play areas, cafes with banana milkshakes, matinees at the little Odeon. Harriet got used to it: Mum-time, just for them. Dad hovered distantly, like a side table.

She wont even notice, Charlotte told herself. After the divorce, life will hardly change for her.

It was a comforting story. Charlotte clung to it as to a rubber ring.

And then, something shifted.

At first, Charlotte didnt see what. One evening Daniel, without fanfare, offered to put Harriet to bed. Then, a day later, he collected her from nursery. Then he cooked dinnerpasta with cheese, nothing fancy, but no reminders or hints needed.

Charlotte eyed him, suspicious. Had guilt finally caught up? A momentary spasm of conscience? Was he covering up something he thought she didnt know?

But time ticked on, and Daniel did not revert. He got up early to take Harriet to school. Fixed that wretched tap. Signed Harriet up for swim classes and ferried her there Saturdays, whistling as they left.

Dad! Dad, watch meI can dive now! Harriet would barrel round the house, arms out like a champion swimmer.

Daniel would sweep her up and toss her towards the ceiling. Harriets laughter eased like sunlight into every nook.

Charlotte watched them from the kitchen. Who was this man?

I can have her on Sunday, Daniel said one evening. Youve got your coffee with the girls, right?

She nodded slowly. No girlsjust herself and a book somewhere warm. Did he listen to her phone calls?

Weeks folded into a month. Then two. Daniel did not give up. He did not slide back into his old blankness.

Ive booked us a table at that Italian place, he told her later. For Friday. Mums happy to mind Harriet.

Charlotte looked up from her laptop.

Since when?

No reason. Just fancy dinner with you.

She agreed. Out of curiosity, she told herself. Just to see what card hed play.

The restaurant glowed with mellow light and live jazz. Daniel ordered her favourite wine, and Charlotte found herself surprised that he still remembered.

Youve changed, she said bluntly.

Daniel turned his glass. I was blind. Hopelessreally, really stupid.

Thats not news.

I know. His smile bent, not happy at all. Thought I was working for usfor family. Thats what you want, isnt itmoney, a bigger flat, a nicer car? All the while, I was running. From responsibility. From, well, life.

She let the silence hover.

I noticed you changed. Like youd stopped caring altogether. And that, honestlythat was more terrifying than any row. When you shouted or cried, at least I mattered. But then you just… stopped. It was as if I didn’t exist.

He set his glass down. I nearly lost youboth of you. Only then did I see how far I had gone wrong.

Charlotte stared at himthis man, finally saying all shed wanted to hear for years. Was it too late now? Or not quite?

I was planning to divorce you, she whispered. Just waiting for a reason.

Daniel paled.

God, Charlie…

Id been siphoning money aside. Looking at flats.

I didnt know it was that bad.

You should have, she cut in. This is your family. You ought to see whats going on.

Heaviness settled between them. The waiter, on sensing their mood, slipped past without a word.

I want to work at this, Daniel said at last. If youll let me.

One chance.

Ones more than I deserve.

They sat there till the restaurant flicked its lights off. They talkedabout Harriet, about money, about what needed doing and why. For the first time in years, it was a conversation, not a trade of barbed comments or perfunctory lines.

Recovery crawled forward. Charlotte didnt leap into his arms next morning. She watched, she waited, half-expecting disappointment. But Daniel stuck to his word.

Weekends, he cooked. He braved the nursery WhatsApp group. He even learned how to braid Harriets hairwonky, lopsided, but his own effort.

Mum, look! Dad made me a dragon! Harriet flew into the kitchen, waving a monster fashioned from cereal boxes and tissue.

Charlotte regarded this dragonabsurd and lopsided, with one wing enormous and the other nearly missingand smiled.

Six months sped by unnoticed.

Now December stood at the door, and the whole family bundled off to Charlottes parents cottage for Christmas. The old house smelled of wood and pies, its crackling fires and the orchard snow-drowned and dreamy.

Charlotte sat by the window with her tea, gazing at Daniel and Harriet mounding up a snowman. Harriet directedcarrot there, eyes higher, scarf tilting off!and Daniel obeyed, now and again catching her up and launching her joyfully into the pale sky. Her squeals floated over the drifting garden.

Mum! Mum, come join us! Harriets mittened hand waved wild.

Charlotte shrugged on her coat and stepped out onto the frosty porch. Snow sparkled, almost silver under a low sun; the cold bit playfully at her nose. Suddenlya snowball.

Thats Daddy! Harriet announced, ratting him out at once.

Traitor, Daniel feigned a sniff.

Charlotte grabbed a handful of snow and lobbed it at Danielmissed. He burst with laughter, and then so did she. Soon all three rolled in white drifts, forgetting the snowman and the chill and any kind of sense.

That evening, when Harriet drifted off in the lounge mid-cartoon, Daniel quietly scooped her up, tucked her under a patchwork quilt, smoothed her fringe with an awkward tenderness.

Charlotte sat by the fire, hands curled round her mug. Outside, a soft snow still fell, cocooning the world.

Daniel joined her on the rug.

What are you thinking? he asked.

How lucky that I ran out of time, she replied.

He didnt need to ask what she meant. He understood.

Relationships called for daily effort. Not stunts or fanfarejust small, everyday things: to listen, help, notice, support. Charlotte knew rough days would comemisunderstandings, disputes over nothing.

But now, in this odd, shifting dream, her husband and daughter were herealive, real, beloved.

Harriet woke and bumbled over, wedging herself between her parents on the sofa. Daniel tucked them both under his arms, and Charlotte wondered if, after all, some things truly were worth the fightShe curled into Charlottes side, blinking sleepily at the fire. Daniel reached across Harriets shoulders, his hand finding Charlottes. It was clumsy, their fingers first tangling, then slipping comfortably into place. Harriet hummed, half-awake, the warmth of both her parents bracketing her safely on either side.

Outside, the wind knotted snow in wild arcs, but inside, the three of them leaned togetherall flaws and soft laughter, and the hope that, with enough gentle tending, any frozen heart could find its thaw.

Tomorrow would be ordinary againerrands, lessons, burnt toast, missing mittens, and the soft friction of two people still relearning each other. But tonight, cocooned in flickering light, Charlotte let herself hold not the past or future, but this small, precious now: the hush, the closeness, the certainty, humming quietly as heartbeat, that the fire would keep burningif only they kept feeding it, together.