“She needs to relax,” he said while folding another shirt into his suitcase.
Then came the sentence that still echoes in my mind.
“You can handle things here.”
I didn’t immediately respond.
What could I say?
That I was already barely functioning?
That I needed help?
That his children needed their father?
Instead, I simply watched him continue packing.
He told me the trip had been paid for with a work bonus.
I believed him.
Or at least, I wanted to.
We had been saving money for the children’s future. Slowly, carefully, month after month, we had built an account containing $9,500.
It wasn’t an enormous fortune.
But it represented years of sacrifice.
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