Chapter 85: Sad, Sad Katherine

"Was that you that I just saw you with Cassie Lindsday a moment ago? What was that about?" Julian asked his brother in a whisper when he came to stand beside him.

Clancy just shook his head. "She still talks crazy right? Trying to woo rich men in society like she does not come from an affluent family herself" Julian added. Clancy then turned to his brother at the realization that he was not reading it wrong.

"I guess everyone knows about her crazy, huh?" Clancy whispered back. "Yeah," Julian said as the coordinator came out of the curtains, to meet them.

Rose, their mother smiled throughout the entire ceremony with her joy beyond obvious. Her joy knew no bounds.

While Katherine, although very happy for her brother, had an inner sadness about when her turn would come.

"Would I ever have a child of mine? Would I ever have such a ceremony?" She thought sadly as she watched the ceremony.

****the end of the ceremony***

The car door slammed shut with a heavy thud, and the silence inside the vehicle was immediate, thick, and suffocating.

Katherine leaned her head against the passenger window, watching the view behind them as Mark, her husband, pulled out of the gravel driveway of The Grand Hall, where her niece’s christening ceremony was held.

Behind them, back at the reception hall, there were some guests that stayed behind way longer than they were supposed to, clearly still having a good time.

Katherine kept her eyes fixed firmly on the side mirror, watching the view of the hall disappear into the night. The atmosphere inside the car was tense, like a fragile glass structure waiting for the first stone to be thrown.

"You did not have to look like you were at a funeral during the speeches," Mark said, breaking the silence with a voice that cut through the quiet like a blade.

He did not look at her, his eyes stayed locked on the road ahead, his knuckles white from his tight grip on the leather steering wheel.

Katherine flinched, the accusation stinging more than she wanted to admit. "I did not look like I was at a funeral. I smiled, I talked to the cousins, and I congratulated your brother. I did everything I was supposed to do." She defended.

"Yeah, after you had a completely visible meltdown while holding Chloe," Mark countered, his tone sharpening as his restraint began to fracture.

"Every single person in that room was watching you, Katherine. It’s exhausting. We can not go to a single family event without your issues taking over the entire day." He said rudely.

"My issues?" Katherine turned fully in her seat to face him, her throat tightening so violently it made her voice sound reedy and strained. "Chloe is my niece, Mark. And this is not just my issue. It is ours. Or have you completely checked out of this marriage and decided I am the only one carrying the weight?" she said.

"I have not checked out of anything," he snapped, glancing over at her for a fraction of a second with cold, bitter irritation. She could not help but wonder if he had internally added a "yet" at the end of his statement

"But I am tired of living like a ghost in my own life. It has been three years. Three years of tracking your ovulation cycle, scheduling sex by a color-coded calendar, and spending our entire life savings on fertility specialists who run endless tests just to tell us absolutely nothing is wrong with either of us.

I am sick of the constant, crushing disappointment every single month." He said. His tone was getting louder. Katherine pulled her legs up onto the leather seat, pressing her back against the passenger door to put as much physical distance between them as the confined space allowed.

The tears she had fought so desperately to hold back all afternoon during the christening ceremony, the joyful family toasts, and those agonizing moments she had held Chloe’s fragile, warm body against her chest finally started falling.

But these were not soft, sorrowful tears, they were hot, fast, and fueled by a burning anger. Looking at the hard line of Mark’s jaw, she realized with a sickening jolt that the man sitting next to her felt completely like a stranger.

When they had bought their home four years ago, they had specifically chosen it because of the floor plan. It had three extra bedrooms upstairs, perfect for children to grow into. Now, those empty rooms just felt like a constant, echoing reminder of what they did not have.

The grueling stress of her miscarriages had turned into a toxic, bitter resentment, pulling them apart into separate corners instead of bringing them together to heal.

By the time Mark finally pulled into their driveway, neither of them had spoken for over forty minutes. The silence had solidified into something heavy and impenetrable.

He turned off the engine, but made no move to get out. Instead, he dropped his hands from the wheel and rested his forehead heavily against the top of it, letting out a long, ragged breath.

"I can not keep doing this, Katherine," he said, his anger suddenly draining away, leaving only a flat, terrifying exhaustion in its wake. "I can not keep coming home every single day to a wife who looks at me and only sees a failure. A man who could not help her get what she wanted."

"That is not fair," Katherine said, her voice shaking violently as she fumbled with the clasp of her seatbelt. "I want my husband back. But you have completely detached yourself from me. You treat me like a medical patient, not your wife." she said angrily.

"Because that is the only way I can cope," Mark said, his voice rising again as he hit his palm against the steering wheel. "f I do not detach, if I let myself feel every single failure the way you do, I would lose my mind." he responded.

Katherine did not answer. There was nothing left to say that would not inflict more damage. She pushed the car door open, stepped out into the cold of the night air, and walked quickly into the silent house.