My Husband Wanted Us in Separate Rooms — Then One Night, I Heard Something I Couldn’t Ignore

So now, as he packed up his belongings to move into another bedroom, I couldn’t stop the sense of dread crawling through me.

“I’ll still be here if you need me, Mara,” David said, his voice steady yet strangely distant. “This doesn’t change that.”

“You just… won’t be in the same room anymore,” I whispered, my throat constricting.

He nodded, not quite meeting my eyes. “Like I said, I just need a bit more freedom while I sleep.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself not to argue, not to beg him to stay. The words “freedom while I sleep” echoed in my mind long after he walked out with that basket. Freedom from what—me?

That night, alone in our bed, the silence felt unbearable. I lay awake, staring into the darkness, listening to every creak of the house as though it might give me answers.

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