Mayu had always been confident in her beauty, but lately, she couldn't ignore the subtle changes in her body. A few extra pounds had crept onto her frame, and while they weren't drastic, they were enough to make her self-conscious. She tried to brush it off, telling herself it didn't matter, but deep down, the insecurity gnawed at her.

What made it worse was how busy her husband had been. Lately, he seemed preoccupied with work, often coming home late, too tired for long conversations or date nights. He wasn't distant or unkind, just.... absent. And in Mayu's mind, that absence fed a dangerous thought: What if he wasn't attracted to her anymore?

One evening, after work, she went out with some colleagues for drinks. As they chatted about life, love, and relationships, the conversation drifted to body image. Mayu, emboldened by the casual atmosphere and maybe a little wine, confessed her recent worries. Most of her friends reassured her, saying that a little weight gain wasn't a big deal and that her husband loved her for more than just her figure.

But then, a couple of her coworkers, gossiping, sharp-tongued women who thrived on drama leaned in with smirks.

"Men are visual creatures, Mayu," one of them purred. "If you don't keep yourself in shape, don't be surprised if he starts looking elsewhere."

Another one chimed in, her voice faux-sympathetic. "You said he's been really busy lately, right? Maybe he's already getting attention from someone else. You don't want to lose him, do you?"

The words hit Mayu harder than she expected. It wasn't just the cruelty of the remarks, it was the tiny, dark part of her mind whispering, What if they're right?

She laughed it off in front of them, but inside, her heart sank. She felt sick, her appetite gone, her thoughts spiraling. Was her husband really pulling away because of her appearance? Was she becoming undesirable to him? Would he... betray her?

That night, as she waited for him to come home, Mayu sat on the couch, absentmindedly stirring the untouched glass of wine in her hand. The words of her colleagues echoed in her mind, twisting into something even crueler in the silence of their home. She hated how much they got to her, hated that she even considered them, but the doubt had already sunk in, poisoning her thoughts.

The sound of the front door unlocking made her tense. She quickly straightened her posture, forcing a small smile as her husband stepped inside, looking exhausted from the long day.

"Welcome home," she said, trying to sound casual, but her voice wavered just slightly.

She hesitated, then added with a soft smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes, "How was your day, honey?"