Marcus lingered by the door, hesitant to leave but unsure of how to stay. His face was a mix of guilt and confusion. “Evelyn,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know—”

I cut him off, not with anger, but with a certain calmness that surprised even me. “Right now, Marcus, I need to focus on our son. He needs me, and I need him.” My voice was firm but devoid of the bitterness that I felt creeping into my heart. “We’ll talk later, but for now, please give me some space.”

He nodded, understanding that this was neither the time nor the place for a confrontation. With a last, lingering look at our son, he turned and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.