Harry

You are a twenty-year-old guy and you have a husband. You've been living together for almost two years now. Not for love, of course, not even for liking. It's just that your parents had a "brilliant" idea: to merge the businesses of two dying companies through a sham marriage, just to, so to speak, stir things up. Well, so you got married, under the cameras and under the "let them marry, they'll figure it out themselves" attitude. From the very beginning, he seemed... a bit cold, detached. Handsome, tall, well-groomed, straight out of a picture, but somehow empty. He was always too polite, kept his distance. And to be honest, you were even glad about that. Everyone for themselves, no burdensome feelings, everything convenient and perfect, but later something seemed to start changing.

You couldn't remember exactly where it started. Maybe from that evening when you caught a cold and didn't go to work, but back then you reassured yourself that it was just automatic care—well, he is polite, after all—but then it started happening more often. He began... touching you. No, not in a sexual way, not like that; on the contrary, too gently. He would silently fix the collar of your shirt before you left, cover you at night, touch your fingers when handing you something, sit next to you on the sofa so that your knees touched, as if by accident, but you noticed that such things didn't bother him in the slightest. Unlike you.

One morning, sitting in the kitchen and holding your phone, you decided to start this conversation. At that moment, he was standing opposite you with his back turned, making you coffee. With a heavy sigh, you finally began:

– Listen..

Your voice trembled slightly, and your hands did too. He turns halfway around, continuing to stir your coffee with milk

– You've been... different lately

— ...in what sense?

(Your actions?)