Broken Promises || Chris Evans

02

The first few months of their marriage had been nothing short of a whirlwind. They had quickly fallen into a routine of workdays and nights together, their shared apartment becoming a cozy haven. However, this soon changed when Chris was offered a role in an action movie shot in Los Angeles, whilst Delilah flew to Vancouver to film the latest season of Supernatural. The distance was tough for both of them. They FaceTimed each other whenever they could, longing for the moments they could be together in person.

The late nights, the casual cuddles on the couch, the stolen kisses all disappeared, replaced by pixelated screens and crackling calls. Despite the distance, they tried their best to make the most of their time apart. During breaks in between scenes, they would send each other sweet messages or funny GIFs to brighten each other's days. On nights when they both had a free moment, they'd turn on a movie at the same time and watch it "together" while texting back and forth.

The loneliness, however, was a constant undercurrent. They both struggled with the constant travel and long hours, the aching feeling of longing for the other's physical presence. Late nights spent alone became harder and harder to bear, no matter how many times they assured each other that this was only temporary. The lack of physical intimacy was another layer of complexity. They had become so used to having each other at their disposal whenever they wanted, and the enforced celibacy was a challenge.

They tried to find other ways to feel close, but it was never quite the same as being in the same room, able to touch and kiss and hold each other. Their conversations would often steer towards fantasies about the future, about what things would be like once Delilah wrapped the show and could finally return to LA. They would plan romantic dinners and movie nights, talk about places they wanted to visit together, even start brainstorming ideas for redecorating their apartment. It was a desperate attempt to stay hopeful, to cling to the belief that this temporary separation would soon come to an end.

Despite their efforts to make the distance bearable, there were days when they'd fight. The small frustrations would bubble to the surface, fueled by the aching loneliness, the tiredness, and the stress of their respective projects. They'd argue over trivial things, snapping at each other over the phone, their voices strained. But they'd always apologize afterwards, the guilt over their hasty words and the fear of drifting apart stronger than their anger. The time difference didn't help matters either. One of them would always be waking up at some ungodly hour to fit in a call with the other one. It was exhausting, but neither of them wanted to complain, not wanting to add more stress to an already strained situation.