From the outside, Emma and Daniel were the kind of couple people quietly admired.
They held hands without thinking about it. Finished each other’s sentences in grocery stores. Laughed easily, comfortably, like people who had shared the same jokes for years and still found them funny.
They had been married for eleven years.
No dramatic fights. No public tension. Just the steady rhythm of shared life—mortgage payments, Sunday mornings, inside jokes that no one else understood.