Chipping Away by Diane Simmons
It had taken four years. A gradual erosion. It started with a frown over his haircut, a shoe choice scoffed at, a book purchase mocked.
It took two years before their friends began to express concern about his well-being. It was another year before she sought advice from his parents, another three months after that before he relented and visited a doctor, two more months before he finally started taking his anti-depressants.
Sophie talked to anyone who’d listen about her husband’s depression, cried when there was someone there to see. She researched therapies, borrowed books from workmates, left the trail of a caring wife. When there was no one there to see, she carried on chipping away, confusing him with cuddles and derision.
When he was found dead from an overdose four years from her first frown, no one suspected it wasn’t suicide.
They’d all seen it coming.