All the irritation I’d been holding in finally spilled over. I marched straight to their bedroom, threw open the door, and found her under the covers, pale and exhausted. Without thinking, I blurted:
The moment the words slipped out, regret followed. She didn’t argue or even look angry. She just stared at me with tired, red eyes and whispered, “I’m trying,” before turning toward the wall.
I left feeling unsettled—still annoyed, but underneath it, something heavier was growing.
The Truth Comes Out
Later that night, my son walked me to my car. Shoulders drooping, hands in his pockets, he finally said: Continue reading…
