I slowly turned my head toward my husband, Mike.
He wasn’t smiling.
His face had drained of color so quickly it startled me. His eyes refused to meet mine, and in that split second, I knew something was very wrong.
That pause — that hesitation — told me more than words ever could.
Before Everything Fell Apart
Mike and I had been together for six years. We weren’t perfect, but we were stable. Or at least, I thought we were.
We had routines. Shared responsibilities. Inside jokes. A child we both adored.
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