We married after fourteen months. Quick, I know. But when someone makes you feel like the only person in a room, you stop counting months.
The shift in our marriage did not happen overnight. It was more like water damage, the kind that is invisible until the structure is already compromised and the repair costs more than the original construction. Freya moved from involved mother to permanent fixture. She had a key to our house and she used it. I would come home from work to find her rearranging my kitchen cabinets because the organization was not logical. She criticized my cooking, my cleaning, the way I folded towels. Leo’s response to every instance of this was the same gentle redirection: that’s just how she is, she means well, don’t make it a thing.
For four years, I made nothing a thing. And the problem with being the person who keeps the peace is that eventually people stop noticing you are in the room at all.
