My mother-in-law told me to get up at 4 a.m. to cook Thanksgiving dinner for her 30 guests. My husband added, “This time, remember to make everything really perfect!” I smiled and replied, “Of course.” At 3 a.m., I took my suitcase to the airport. – usnews 0/2

“Hi,” he said when he saw me approaching.

“Hi.”

We stood there for a moment, two people who had been married for five years, suddenly unsure how to interact with each other.

“How was your trip?” he asked finally.

“It was exactly what I needed.”

He waited for me to elaborate, but I didn’t. The old Isabella would have filled the awkward silence with apologies and explanations, reassuring him that everything was fine and normal could resume immediately. The new Isabella just collected her suitcase and walked toward the parking garage.

The drive home was mostly silent, punctuated only by Hudson’s occasional attempts at conversation that I answered briefly and without enthusiasm. I wasn’t trying to be cold. I was just done performing emotional labor for his comfort.

As we pulled into our driveway, Hudson finally asked the question that had obviously been eating at him.

“So, what happens now?”