Finally, I decided to confront Daniel directly. One morning, as he prepared to leave for work, I caught him by the door. “Daniel, please,” I implored, “Talk to me. I’m worried about you.”He paused, the mask slipping from his face for just a moment. “Mom, it’s complicated,” he admitted, a shadow of pain crossing his features. “There’s so much pressure… at work, everywhere. I feel like I’m drowning.”
His confession was a small crack in the wall he’d built around himself. “And Olivia?” I pressed gently.“She’s amazing,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “But she doesn’t deserve to bear this alone. I don’t know how to fix things.”
I hugged him, feeling the tension in his body, and whispered the words he needed to hear, “You’re not alone, Daniel. We’ll get through this together.”Though the road ahead was uncertain, I felt a sense of hope. The truth, as painful as it was, had brought us closer. And in the quiet moments of the night, I knew we would find a way to heal, as a family, embracing the strength found in vulnerability.
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