Jane's POV
The day after Henry told me he "wasn't ready," something about our home felt different.It was subtle. Barely noticeable.Like a soft breeze slipping through a tiny crack in a window.
But I felt it.
That morning, I tried to brush it off. I put on a cute blouse, styled my hair nicely, even added a touch of gloss — something simple, something to remind both of us of the sweetness we used to share.
Henry was in the kitchen, scrolling through his phone as he sipped his coffee.
I walked in slowly."Good morning," I said softly.
He glanced up. "Morning."
His eyes didn't linger.Not even for half a second.
I bit my lip, walked past him to reach the fridge, pretending not to notice the pang in my chest.
While he was tying his shoelaces in the living room, I stood in the doorway and asked casually:
"Henry… how do I look?"
He looked up.
Looked at me.
And said, "You look okay."
Okay.That word again.Like a knuckle lightly knocking against my heart.
I forced a smile. "Okay?"
"Yeah. I'm running late, babe," he added quickly, kissing my cheek instead of my lips before hurrying out the door.
The house fell silent.
I stood there for a long time, fingers brushing the place he kissed, trying to figure out why my eyes suddenly felt heavy.
By 8:45 a.m., I was seated in my office with my laptop open, staring at a spreadsheet that might as well have been written in another language. Normally I handled my job — Senior Administrative Coordinator — with ease. It was busy but not overwhelming.
But that morning, nothing made sense.
I kept seeing Henry's face.That distant look in his eyes.The way he didn't… see me.
A soft knock broke my thoughts.
"Come in," I called.
The door swung open and James walked in, holding a stack of files.
"Morning, boss," he said with a bright grin. "You look like someone contemplating the meaning of life."
I blinked out of my trance. "James… hi. What do you need?"
"The Vaderson report," he said, waving a folder. "David asked me to collect it from you."
"Oh." I stared at my desk, then realized I was holding the file without even noticing. "Here."
He took it, but instead of leaving, he studied my face.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine," I said too quickly.
He raised a brow. "That was the fastest lie I've ever heard."
I let out a breath, leaning back in my chair.
"It's just… a friend of mine is going through something."
He sat down without asking, crossing his legs casually. "Alright, let's hear it. What's happening with this 'friend' of yours?"
I looked down at my hands. "Her husband hasn't touched her in weeks. She tries to get his attention, but he doesn't see her. And when she finally asked how she looked this morning… he said she looked okay."
James winced dramatically. "Oh damn. Not 'okay.' Men should know that's the deadliest answer."
A small laugh escaped me before I could help it. "Exactly."
"So what's wrong with him?" James asked, leaning forward like this was an interesting movie. "Is he sick? Tired? Suddenly blind?"
I shook my head, smiling more than I expected. "No. He just said he's not ready for kids."
James groaned. "Women want answers. Men give headlines."
That made me laugh — a real one this time.
"Seriously though," he continued, his tone softening. "Your friend should talk to him. Properly. Men don't read signs. They read billboards. If she doesn't tell him how she feels, he won't magically understand."
I nodded slowly."You're probably right."
"I'm always right," he said, standing up smugly. "It's one of my worst flaws."
I rolled my eyes. "Please leave my office."
He grinned. "Gladly. But tell your friend to breathe. Men are simple creatures. Feed them, love them, and maybe kick them in the shins sometimes."
This time, my laugh came easily.
James smiled softly, satisfied."There she is," he said. "The real Jane."
Then he walked out, leaving me in a silent office with a lighter heart — and a heavier mind.
Because the truth was…my "friend" wasn't the only one who was hurting.