Page 43 of The Hotel Room

Nothing came.

Through the doorway, he could see Kate.

She was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Lily, helping her sort through a chaotic pile of markers and papers. Lily was talking a mile a minute—something about making a card for her friend’s birthday—and Kate was nodding, smiling softly, fully engaged in the conversation.

Noah sat nearby, sprawled out on the couch, scrolling on his phone but close enough that his presence filled the space.

This.

This was what he had built. The life they had built.

And yet, all James could feel was the unbearable distance stretching between them.

Kate hadn’t been well since she moved back. And she looked...different. Not just because she’d moved into the guest room or the way she barely spoke to him these days. It was the fragile way she carried herself now—tighter, more guarded.

She didn’t glance toward the kitchen. Didn’t check for him the way she used to, those small moments of connection that had always been there, unspoken. The way her gaze would catch his, warm and steady, because he was her person.

Now?

She was with their kids, but she felt miles away from him.

And part of him still didn’t understand why.

He knew she was hurt, but he’d explained why he’d done it. It wasn’t like he was in love with someone else. It had been a mistake—a stupid, one-time lapse in judgment. A choice made out of curiosity, not cruelty.

She was choosing to punish him.

Wasn’t she?

James swallowed hard and forced his eyes back to the journal.

Write it down. Be honest.

The therapist’s words echoed louder in his head.

He clicked the pen and pressed it to the page.

I don’t know where to start.

I’m supposed to be writing about why I made the choice I did. But all I can think about right now is how I’m sitting here while my wife—the woman I’ve loved for more than half my life—won’t even look at me anymore.

His hand slowed, hovering.

His chest felt tight, like the words were pressing too deep.

In the next room, Lily giggled, holding up her hand to show Kate a marker stain on her palm. Kate smiled, leaning in gently to wipe it away with a damp cloth.

It was such a simple moment.

But all James could think was:That used to be us.

And the ache that left behind felt unbearable.

His grip tightened on the pen. He pressed harder, the tip digging into the paper as he kept writing.

I used to make her smile like that. She used to look at me the way she looks at the kids now. Like I was someone she could trust completely. But all she sees when she looks at me now is what I took from her.

The words came faster now, his mind racing.

---