The guarded phone, the late nights, the abrupt endings to conversations.
They all formed a pattern, one I had been too blind to see.
My husband shifted in the bed, his gaze averted, a silent confirmation of the truths unfolding.
The counselor leaned forward slightly, her expression one of empathy and understanding.
She spoke softly, “We’re here to support you both through this.”
But her words felt foreign, an unfamiliar language in this new reality.
I nodded, the motion automatic, as if agreeing to terms I hadn’t fully comprehended.
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