Ten years ago, I stood in the hospital, holding my newborn son, overwhelmed with joy and love. I had envisioned our future together, filled with laughter, milestones, and cherished moments.
My wife seemed equally ecstatic, or so I thought. But beneath her smiles, she harbored a resentment that I failed to see.
It was only a few months later that she shattered our world. One evening, as our son slept peacefully in his crib, she dropped a bombshell.
“I can’t do this *** anymore,” she said with a coldness that froze my heart. She called our son a “burden” and spoke longingly of her “old life.”
