One night, I finally gathered the courage to ask her, “Baby, don't you miss how we used to be?” She put her phone down and looked at me with tears gathering in her eyes. “Do you know how many nights I lay beside you, hoping you would hold me without me asking? How many times I wondered whether you still found me beautiful? I kept telling myself you were tired, that work was stressful, that marriage naturally became like this.” She paused and wiped her tears. “But one day, I got tired of asking myself those questions. I wanted to know if you would notice when I stopped trying.” I moved closer to her, but she quietly shifted away. That hurt more than I expected. I asked why she hadn't told me she was feeling this way. She gave me a painful smile. “I tried, my love. I tried in so many little ways. But every time I wanted your attention, I felt like I was disturbing you. I didn't want to become a wife who had to beg her husband to make her feel loved.” My eyes filled with tears. I reached for her hand, and she allowed me to hold it. But she didn't squeeze mine the way she used to. Then she said the words that broke something inside me. “I didn't stop loving you. I just wanted to know whether you would come looking for me when I stopped coming looking for you.” I pulled her into my arms and apologized. I promised to listen more and stop taking her love for granted. She cried against my chest that night, and I held her until she fell asleep. But the following morning, she was quiet again.