Shannon stared at John, frustration bubbling inside of her like hot lava waiting to erupt. For months now, she had watched as he spent more and more time on his writing and less time with her. She couldn't help but wonder if it was something she had done to drive him away.
"John, You been moving different all of a sudden and we don’t spend no some time together?" she pleaded, her voice tinged with sadness.
John barely looked up from his computer screen, his eyes locked on the words flowing from his fingers onto the keyboard. He had been working on his latest short story collection for weeks now, and it was all-consuming. He had no time for distractions.
"Shannon, I have to finish this. You know how important it is to me."
"But what about me?" she cried, feeling a hot tear slide down her cheek. "Don't I matter anymore?"
John sighed and turned to face her. He could see the hurt in her eyes, and it pained him to know that he was the cause of it.
"Shannon, I love you. You know that. But right now, this writing that I’m doing is the most important thing to me. I made it to the top twenty in the world for the best short stories. I need to see this through."
Shannon felt a wave of anger wash over her. She didn't understand how John could choose his writing over her.
"So that's it? The writing is more important than me?"
"It's not that simple," John said softly. "You know how much this means to me. I promise I'll make it up to you."
But Shannon had already made up her mind. She couldn't take it anymore. She gathered her things and left without a word, leaving John alone with his words.
As he watched her go, he couldn't help but wonder if he had made the right choice. But he knew deep down that he had to finish what he had started, even if it meant sacrificing the love of his life. In the end, all he could do was hope that one day she would understand.