I never imagined that a quiet trail ride could turn into a test of my marriage. That photo was supposed to be a tender glimpse into my day, a reminder that I was thinking of him even miles away. Instead, it exposed a crack we didn’t know existed. His hurt didn’t come from the saddle itself, but from the fear that there were parts of my life he still didn’t fully know or trust.
We talked—really talked—for the first time in a long while. About exes, insecurities, and the stories we create in silence when we’re scared to ask the harder questions. The initials stayed on the saddle, but we decided they wouldn’t stay between us. That day became less about an ex-boyfriend and more about choosing transparency over assumption, reassurance over quiet resentment, and learning that trust is not a given; it’s something we keep rebuilding, even after tiny, unexpected earthquakes.
