The next day I found my husband in a state that shocked me to the core.
The next day, I came home from running errands and to my shock, found Daniel sitting in the kitchen, slumped in a chair, pale, eyes red. He looked completely wrecked. Like the weight of everything had finally caught up to him. He sighed, rubbing his face, and finally looked at me. “I love you. But it’s hard. Being stuck in the middle, between you and them… It’s tearing me apart. I feel like I’m failing everyone.”
I love my husband. I don’t want to be the reason he feels torn or miserable. I don’t want to be the source of his guilt. But I also can’t keep pretending that what his family says and does doesn’t hurt me deeply.
