<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><channel><title>Relationships on Sunday Evening Review</title><link>https://sundayeveningreview.com/categories/relationships/</link><description>Recent content in Relationships on Sunday Evening Review</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Tue, 21 Apr 2026 06:00:00 -0500</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://sundayeveningreview.com/categories/relationships/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The Marriage That Went Quiet</title><link>https://sundayeveningreview.com/living/the-marriage-that-went-quiet/</link><pubDate>Tue, 21 Apr 2026 06:00:00 -0500</pubDate><guid>https://sundayeveningreview.com/living/the-marriage-that-went-quiet/</guid><description>&lt;p>They were driving to the hardware store on a Saturday morning. She was looking out the passenger window. He was looking at the road. The radio was on, tuned to something neither of them had chosen, and neither of them changed it.&lt;/p>
&lt;p>She thought about saying something. She had read an article that morning about a woman their age who had taken up pottery, and she thought Robert might find it funny, the way she described the clay exploding in the kiln. But she didn&amp;rsquo;t say it. Not because he wouldn&amp;rsquo;t have laughed. He might have. She didn&amp;rsquo;t say it because starting a conversation felt like effort, and she couldn&amp;rsquo;t remember when that had happened.&lt;/p></description></item></channel></rss>