Smooth hands grazed lightly across the soft fabric of the silk garment. It was a burgundy dress; understated and plain, but to her, this simple article of clothing meant the world. The woman held it gently, afraid that any slight maltreatment would result in its ruin. It had been taken out and put away so much that there were certain areas where the material had become thin, faded. She smiled, delicately inspecting for any damage, while running her fingers down the neck straps that held it secure to the hanger. Undoing the tie at the back, it came off effortlessly, fluttering down across her arms in ripples of silk, almost begging for her to try it on once more. Her mind started to wander happily back to that day, the day they-

The usual, routine noise of a car door slamming assaulted her ears. Sighing, she slipped the dress back on a hanger, though her husband entered before it could return to its designated place in her wardrobe.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Nothing," she replied swiftly, and finished putting it away. She remembered a time when he would actually greet her and call her by name. She had always loved the way "Lisa" just rolled off his tongue, like he had been born to say it.

"Why don't you just throw it out?" he asked.

"Because I can't, John." They had had this conversation more than once. The last thing she wanted to do was repeat it.

"You're never going to wear it again," he retorted.

"You wouldn't understand." She shook her head; exasperated by his rationalisation, hating his logic. Some things were never meant to be analysed in such a way.

"That's what I always hear from you," he replied, raising his arms in a helpless shrug. "It's always 'you don't understand', or 'it's none of your business.' I never get an answer from you."

There was silence. Lisa busied herself by pretending to fix the already immaculate room. John picked up the mail that was neatly laid out on his bedside locker and examined it. Over the past few months their days together had fallen into a tedious monotony; sleep, eat, a few words, then silence. That interminable, hateful silence. In the beginning, Lisa had felt the need to fill it with incessant chatter, but had soon stopped. Often, she would switch on the television or radio. The pathetic, obstreperous cheer of afternoon talk-show hosts could momentarily distract her from worrying about the growing distance between herself and her paramour, but could never fill that void.

Lisa turned to look at him. She studied the features that had attracted her to him those many years ago. His messy brown hair fell over his eyes that focused on opening the envelope in his hands. She wished he would look at her with those eyes. Even now, after being married for four years, she still found it a struggle to keep in control of herself when she stared into those deep russet pools.

"Where were you today?" she asked. "You usually don't get off work until six."

"Oh, didn't you know?" he said. "I wasn't working today, so I met up with some friends for lunch." His eyes remained fixed on the envelope in front of him. Noticing a letter-opener, he grabbed it, made a silt in the top and teased the letter out.

"Do you know what day it is?" she asked softly.

"Thursday, I believe."

Lisa let out a pitiful laugh. It rang hollow in her ears. "I guess you don't." She turned away and strode back to the wardrobe. Delicate fingers traced the lines that used to be rings of mahogany. Was she like that wood now, merely a pretty little object that made his house look perfect? Did he even appreciate what she did for him every day? Yes, he was the sole earner in the house, but that did not mean that she didn't have a job. She cooked, she cleaned, she even entertained his peers from his workplace. She took the degradation of his bosses when she had to, and she always did everything with a smile on her face. Lisa wasn't looking for thanks for all that, she was just looking for John to love her like he used to, understand her like he used to.

It wasn't that he didn't take care of her basic needs. She couldn't deny her exorbitant lifestyle. Everything was at her disposal, money was not an object. This room, this house... it was exactly what she had dreamed of all her life. And yet...her abundant possessions could not soothe her inner languor. Something inside her was caged; clawing away at her, desperate to be free. Loneliness hung over her life like the blade of a guillotine, severing any thoughts of happiness by its perpetual shadow.

"John?"

"Yes?"

"What has happened between us?"

"What do you mean?" He eyes did not waver from the letter.

"Us. What's happened?"

"That's the same question, honey, only phrased differently."

Lisa clutched her brown hair and let out an aggravated sigh.

"Please, John. Our relationship, why has it- Oh for God's sake, put that DAMN LETTER AWAY!!" Startled by her outburst, John dropped it instantly.

"What's gotten into you?" he demanded.

"I'm trying to talk to you!" she exclaimed angrily. "At least have the common decency to make it a two-way conversation!" Lisa could feel the hot flush rising to her cheeks, and her blood pumping faster. She hated being angry, but over the past couple of months that was all what her husband was able to make her feel. He infuriated her over the smallest of things, and she could feel the seed of resentment he was planting in her. If it sprouted, she would become different, changed. Lisa did not want to be someone like that.

"We...we need to start working on this." Her voice took a more hushed tone. "We're falling apart, John."

Her husband stood up from the bed he was sitting on, and walked to where Lisa was standing. She was trembling; this was the most honest she'd been in the longest time. The mindless monotony of their diurnal life could not continue. Slowly, it was leading her to the edge of insanity. Though she had tried her best to deny it, it was now impossible to ignore. There was a problem, and it had to be addressed. Something had to be done. She stared into his eyes; his glassy brown eyes that never seemed to betray him.

"Why do you think that?" he asked sceptically, idly running a lock of her brown hair between his fingers. She knew that gesture. When their relationship had been blossoming, he had used it to make her stay with him, a means to distract her from succumbing to the needs of the outside world, the real world.

"We never make time for each other anymore," she argued, clasping his hand and pulling it away from her hair, refusing to fall prey to his attempt at avoidance. "We never see each other, we barely talk-"

"That's how marriage works!" he exclaimed with a laugh. Lisa gaped at him, completely taken aback by his statement.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she said angrily. "Marriage is about commitment, about romance and passion..." She blushed, despite herself. "It's about love, John." She let go of his hand and clutched his shirt, a habit she always fell into when she sought his attention. "Where has it gone, I'd like to know that."

John pulled away, his shirt being plucked from her grasp. No words would come from his mouth.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Why..?" Angry sighs heaved from her body. She shook her head, her chocolate locks silently expressing what she couldn't as they whirled in passionate fervour with her movements.

"No..." she muttered, more to herself than her partner. She slid the wardrobe door open, revealing once more the beautiful array of clothing that hid inside. Hands moved purposefully below them to pull out a suitcase.

"What are you doing?" John demanded.

"What do you think it looks like?" she spat bitterly in riposte.

"Think about it, where will you go?"

"Unlike you, I have friends, people I can trust. People who love me." The words seemed to flow easily, and though they were harsh, she meant every word.

"Come on, Lis-" he coaxed, putting his hand on her shoulder. She slapped it away viciously, refusing to let him play her for a fool again.

"Don't you dare touch me," she growled. She tugged a few articles of clothing off their hangers, and shoved them unceremoniously into the suitcase.

"You're being ridiculous," he said with a shrug, but his words fell on deaf ears. He was no longer important. Lisa had come to the last dress on the rail, the same dress she had kept pristine for so many years, the same dress she never wanted to part with. The same dress...

Her actions slowed, examining it for the second time that day. It held so many memories, ones precious and fragile, ones, like the dress, she could never throw away. She really did find it to be one of the most beautiful things she'd ever worn, and though it hadn't been worn in aeons, it deserved its place in the wardrobe more than anything else. Glittering with nostalgia, azure eyes softened as she took it off the hanger. She could faintly remember them now; breathless whispers of love, the promise of better days...

Reality struck her, shattering those tenuous emotions, its shards tearing her heart. Idle fantasies, that was all they ever were, all they would ever be. Her eyes hardened, and she thrust the silk dress into her husband's chest. He clutched it hesitantly, surprised at her aggression. She turned, snapping the briefcase shut and walked to the door.

"Happy anniversary," she muttered, and was gone.