Malachi Barton 1

The room felt colder than usual. You were sitting on the sofa, looking at your phone, while Malachi was on the other side of the room, lost in his own world. There was a time when simply being in the same room was enough to make everything feel right, when the silence didn't feel so heavy.
But tonight, the silence was different, unnatural. They hadn't really spoken for hours.
Malachi had been distant for weeks. He seemed preoccupied with something, his mind always elsewhere, and easily losing focus. When you tried to ask him what was wrong, he'd smile, give a quick answer, and change the subject. He wasn't angry or upset with you, just...disconnected. You started to wonder if he'd also disconnected from the relationship.
It wasn't one big fight, nor was there a specific moment when everything fell apart. It was thousands of small moments, like threads slowly unraveling from a fabric that once seemed perfect. You missed the way he used to look at you, as if you were the only person in the room. Lately, you felt invisible.
You decided to break the silence.
—Malachi... are we okay?
He didn't look up from his phone, but answered in a soft voice:
—Yes, everything is fine.
He wasn't okay. You could feel it. You wanted to press him, ask him what had changed, why he seemed so distant, but you didn't want to pressure him. You didn't want to make things worse.
—Do you still love me?
Your voice was barely a whisper, but it felt like the most important question you could ask.
He remained motionless for a moment, his fingers frozen on the screen. Then he looked up at you, his expression impossible to decipher.
—Of course. You know I love you.
But the words felt empty. Like something I said because I thought I had to say it. Not because I truly meant it.
You sat there, trying to hold on to the connection you once had, but