“My coworker ended her five-year marriage over something most people would call “small.”

In their home, she naturally carried the weight of daily life. She cooked, did the laundry, kept everything running. It was never officially discussed, it just became the routine, and she accepted it. Until one day she fell seriously ill. Not a mild cold, but the kind of sickness that makes your body heavy and even standing feels like work.

That evening, her husband came home, saw the laundry basket, separated his clothes from hers, and washed only his. He then made food for himself, plated it, and ate. When she asked if he could make something simple for her too, he replied, “I’m exhausted. I don’t have the energy.”

She told me it wasn’t his words that broke her. It was the absence of instinct. The fact that caring for her didn’t come naturally, the way caring for him had always come naturally to her. Lying there sick and hungry, she realised she wasn’t in a partnership. She was in an arrangement where her effort was expected, but his was optional.

People think love ends in loud fights or dramatic betrayals. But sometimes, it d!es quietly, in moments where someone sees you struggling and still chooses convenience over compassion.