“I know, and I hate myself for it. I thought I was protecting both of you. I thought if I could find another job quickly enough, none of this would ever have to touch you.”
I lowered myself onto the kitchen floor because my legs no longer felt steady.
Brandon knelt beside me.
For several moments, neither of us spoke.
Then I looked at him.
“You thought I would love you less without a paycheck.”
His face crumpled.
“I thought you would stop believing in me.”
“The job is not what broke my heart.”
He stared at me.
“What broke my heart is that you believed my love came with conditions. You treated our marriage like something you had to earn every month.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You did not protect me. You shut me out.”
“I know.”
“You lied every morning.”
“I know.”
“You asked our son to lie too.”
His head dropped.
“I know.”
I was furious with him.
I was hurt in ways I could not yet name.
But beneath the anger, I also saw a man who had been drowning quietly because he believed asking for help would make him weak.
So I reached for him.
Brandon folded into my arms, and for the first time since I had known him, he allowed himself to fall apart completely.
