𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄ᵃʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᵉ

two

   i never really understood where ariana and i's marriage went wrong. before her feelings flipped three years ago, we were so in love. she was so in love. she used to cry over the phone if she ever had to be away for work for only a day or two. now, she goes out of her way to avoid me. i just didn't understand it or her.

2016

   "i really don't know what i would do without you, y/n." ariana whispered into my chest as we danced together in our shared living room.

   i smiled down at her, fiddling with the engagement ring on her finger. i kissed her hair and rested my chin in her hair. "i love you so much." she spoke up again, her head lifting to look into my eyes.

   "i love you too, ariana." she smiled brightly, grabbing the back of my neck to kiss me. i wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her body towards mine, pushing her flush against me.

   ariana pulled away from me with a content smile on her face, her eyes filled with so much love. she bit her lip, her hands running down my chest—and i knew exactly what she was thinking. i was thinking the same thing.

   i smiled, bending down to pick her up and throw her over my shoulder, ariana squealing and hitting my back lightly. i chuckled, "yo, quit that, or no dick for you." she gasped, and her body fell limp over my shoulder as she stopped smacking me.

"asshole."

early 2017

   "i can't believe your actually my wife, holy shit." i groaned into ariana's chest. she giggled and stroked my bare back, her nails tracing my tattoos.

   "hm, me neither. but i'm happy i am." she whispered, her eyes soft as she looked down at me. i smiled and cuddled my head back down, my hands rubbing her stomach. "y/n?" she called out for me.

   "hm?" i asked, not looking back up. she let out a breath as a laugh, her hands moving to run through my hair. i sighed in pleasure, feeling my eyes grow heavy.

   "i'm pregnant." she whispered.

now

   i think back to those days as i pathetically cry alone in our bed at night, wondering what the fuck she was doing and what the fuck i was doing wrong. i knew exactly what she was doing, but i always tried to convince myself that she wasn't.

   was there something i was missing? i thought. why wasn't i good enough for her anymore? why wasn't elijah? i was good enough for her for five years, so what switched? was i too boring for her? was i too annoying and clingy? fuck, if anyone was clingy—it was her. but i would never complain, i loved it.

when she stopped making literally any contact with me, it was like i was going through drug withdrawals. i had gone five whole years having her around me always. she was either with me or touching me almost every second of the day. and then, it just stopped. like a fucking fuse died inside of her and she never hired an electrician to fix it.

for the first year, i tried so hard to somehow fix what went wrong. i brought her flowers and gifts, i offered massages that she used to die over, i made her dinner every night, i did anything i could possibly think of to make her stop whatever she was doing. it didn't work, obviously. she just seemed more annoyed with me.