The snoring accords were drafted at 2am. Derek had been snoring, not loudly, not dramatically, but persistently, like a small engine trying to start in the next room. Shirly lay there for twenty minutes, cycling through the stages of grief, before finally nudging him.
He woke up confused. She said, 'You were snoring.' He said, 'I don't snore.' She said, 'You absolutely do.' He said, 'I've never snored.' She said, 'Well, you started tonight, and I'd like you to stop.' It was the kind of conversation that only happens in the dark, where both people are too tired to be reasonable and too annoyed to be kind.
The gym membership was Shirly's Christmas present to herself. She was going to go three times a week. She went three times in January. By February, the direct debit was essentially a charitable donation to a building she never entered. Derek didn't say anything about it. He didn't need to. The membership card on the fridge said everything he was thinking.
The exercise excuse was Derek's. He said he'd start running. He said it every Sunday night with the conviction of someone who'd just watched a motivational documentary. He bought the trainers. He downloaded the app. He ran twice, then cited weather, then work, then 'I think I pulled something,' which was true but also convenient.
Shirly didn't nag. She'd learned early that nagging Derek about exercise was like watering a plastic plant, technically an action, practically useless. But she did start going for walks on her own, and when she came back glowing and breathless, he'd look at her with something that was part admiration and part guilt, and she'd pretend not to notice.
The snoring, the gym, the running, the walks, none of them were about health. They were about the negotiation of self-care in a shared life. When does looking after yourself become neglecting your partner? When does caring about their health become controlling their body? When does silence become complicity and words become pressure? There's no formula. There's just two people trying to look after themselves while looking after each other, and occasionally getting it wrong.