The Moment of Clarity
I placed the juice on the table and picked up my son from his rocker. I clutched him close and turned to Daniel.
“I’m taking the kids to my parents’ house for the afternoon,” I said calmly. “We’ll talk later.”
His face changed. He went from confused to angry in a heartbeat.
“You’re overreacting,” he said coldly. “It was peppermint oil, Mary. Not poison.”
“But you didn’t tell me,” I said. “You didn’t ask. You decided I needed to be tested like I was some science project.”
“It’s not like that,” he said. “You’ve been acting off. I’m worried about you.”
“No, Daniel,” I said. “You’re not worried about me. You’re trying to control me.”
His jaw clenched. “This is crazy. You’re letting an eight-year-old turn you against me?”
Ellie flinched behind me.
“I’m listening to my daughter,” I said, my voice trembling. “And I’m listening to myself. Something doesn’t feel right. It hasn’t for a long time.”
