The minutes ticked by, each one stretching into an eternity.
I paced the living room, restless energy coursing through me.
When the front door finally opened, I felt a mix of relief and anxiety.
My husband stepped inside, eyes searching mine for answers.
“What’s going on?” he asked again, his voice firmer now.
I motioned for him to sit, the weight of the conversation pressing down on me.
“Last night, I overheard your dad,” I began, choosing my words carefully.
“He said he wants me out by New Year’s. That you’d choose him over me.”
His brow furrowed, disbelief mingling with confusion.
“That doesn’t sound like him,” he replied, shaking his head.
I reached for my phone, scrolling to the messages I’d saved.
“I know it’s hard to believe, but there’s more.”
As he read through the texts, his expression shifted, realization dawning slowly.
The silence between us was heavy, but filled with understanding.
“I didn’t see it,” he admitted quietly, eyes meeting mine.
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