We changed the rhythm of our lives. We stopped pretending that “busy” was a synonym for “happy.” Jenna took a leave of absence from the hospital, trading the high-stakes pressure of the ER for the quiet recovery of her own mind. We told the twins a version of the truth—that Mommy’s heart was a little tired and needed some extra love to get strong again.
Looking back, that week of silence was the loudest wake-up call of my life. It taught me that marriage isn’t just about the shared vacations and the easy laughter; it’s about the terrifying moments when one person retreats into a dark forest and the other refuses to stop searching until they are found. Jenna still has days when the shadows return, when the weight of the world feels too heavy to bear. But now, she doesn’t take off her ring. She reaches for my hand instead, and together, we walk back into the light.
