I look in the mirror, head tilted to the side, surveying my reflection. The eye shadow is the right blend of pink and gold really brings out the deep chocolate of my eyes.

I breathe in deeply as I push the curls back from my face and secure them with a clip, releasing it as I bring my hands back down to my lap.

"You about ready?" A quick but soft knock on the bathroom door.

I turn. "Yea, just need to grab my shoes and we can go."

He nods. I don't miss the way his eyes travel quickly over my body before he turns and leaves. I sit there and listen to his shoes as they move down the hallway. I can hear him telling the dog not to jump on him as I search through the small closest for my shoes.

Holding onto the doorframe to steady myself as I slide the shoes on my feet, I take on last look in the mirror. The soft black dress hitting just above my knees. The black pumps making my legs look longer than they really are. My make up flawless. Hair curled to perfection.

Appearances need to be upheld.

Even if we're the only two that know it.

He turns when he hears my shoes click against the tiled kitchen floor. I don't notice the small but sad smile on his face as he looks me over.  

"Ready?"

I nod and smooth the front of my dress out. "Yep."

Wordlessly we walk to the door, Beckett, our dog, following behind us. I turn to Beckett as he opens the door for me.

"You cannot go with us tonight." I reach out and rub his ear. "Be good and I‘ll bring you home leftovers."

The yellow lab seems to understand me. Tail wagging, head tilting to each side.

"See ya buddy." Justin reaches out and pets his head quickly before ushering me out the door.

The ride to the restaurant is silent. Neither one of us speaking.

The soft candlelight is flickering on the table and it has me completely mesmerized. I watch the flame dance on top of the candle, unable to look away.

"Nic, you want a refill?" Justin reaches out, fingers grazing the back of my hand.

I turn to him, the waiter standing between us. A bottle of wine in his hands.

He raises the bottle. "Miss?"

"Please." I nod and Justin pulls his hand away, turning back to his conversation.

"Anything else?" The young waiter asks me.

"No." I smile at him. "Thank you."
He returns the smile, glancing around one last time before moving away.

"Nicole, how's the new school working out for you?"

I turn to look at Sherry. She was staring at me, questions in her eyes. "It's great. The other teachers have been amazing. The kids are really adorable. I'm really happy I made the switch." I can see Justin look over at me from the corner of my eye. A soft smile playing on his lips. "This really feels like the right place for me."

"Good." She reaches out to take a sip of her wine. "The other place was just so," she pauses, searching for the right word and I can see Justin has fully turned to us now. "Second class."

I shift in my seat. My eyes cast down at the table.

I can feel Justin's arm wrap around the back of my chair, his fingers rubbing softly against my back. "It was an inner city school. Not second glass Sherry." He grinned at her. I could see a quick flash of anger in his eyes. She stiffened in her seat, back going rigid. "She was the best thing to ever happen to that school. They were lucky to have her." He flashed a bright smile and I could see her turn to putty.

He was a charmer. That was part of the reason I fell for him all those years ago.

But that was then.

He reaches out and quickly squeezing my shoulder before turning back with Nick. Sherry continues to gaze adoringly at him.

I fight the urge to chuckle when she lets out a dreamy sigh.

"You really lucked out with that one." She smiles at me. "You know that right?"

I watch the street light fly by as the car maneuvers through the highway traffic. The radio playing quietly in the background.

I turn to Justin, his eyes fixed on the road.

I want to badly to say something. Anything.

But at this point having a conversation would just seem pointless and rehearsed.

I sigh and turn back to the window. I do not see him turn and look at me.

I close the door to the closet before pulling the worn cotton t-shirt over my head. Leaning over the sink I wash the makeup off my eyes. The cold water jarring my skin.

I reach out and turn the water off. I grab the towel from the wall and press it to my face, the front door closing as Justin comes back into the house after his walk with Beckett.

I put my hair into a ponytail before moving into the bedroom and pulling the covers down on the bed. I reach out and fluff the pillows before crawling into the bed.

Justin walks into the bedroom, not even looking at me before going into the bathroom. The door closes behind him.

The shower turns on and I close my eyes.

It didn't used to be like this. We used to talk and laugh. We used to always have something to say.

But now the silence is normal. A part of our relationship.

It's the same routine every day. I come home. I make dinner. He comes home. We eat dinner. We watch a little TV. He walks the dog. He takes a shower. We go to bed.

It's been like this for almost six months now. It started off just not wanting to burden the other with the stress of our own jobs so we didn't talk about it. But now, it's part of the play.

We act like nothing has changed. But it has. We both know it.

Neither of us wants to admit it. But it's over.

The dinner tonight was just another act in our play. The fake smiles. The fake touches. They don't actually mean anything at this point. The honeymoon ended a long time ago. All those things are done for our audience. To make everyone think we're still happy and in love.

We should be acting like the happy couple ready for marriage. Three years together and we've hardly even talked about it.

Not that not being married is our problem.

That doesn't even cross my mind most days.

Our problem is we just aren't in love any more. And we're too scared to admit it.

To each other. To ourselves.

I reach over and flick the lap off when the shower turns off. He'll be climbing into the bed shortly, where we'll be just roll over and to go to sleep.

I lay there, in the dark, waiting.

I hate doing this to myself. To him. He deserves more. He deserves to be with someone who loves him completely. Who wants to talk to him and listen to him and laugh with him.

I deserve that too. But I can't bear to hurt him.

He silently exits the bathroom and I can feel the heat from the shower billow into the bedroom.

He slides under the covers and takes a deep breath before I can know he's relaxed completely.

"Goodnight." He says quietly.

"Night." I whisper back. But what I want to say is good bye.