The light from above cast soft yellow shadows on his tired face.
“I need to talk to you about something difficult,” I said quietly.
He nodded immediately.
I explained everything as politely as I could.
The medical debt. The mortgage. The fear.
Then, carefully, almost apologetically, I asked him if he could contribute a small amount towards expenses until I stabilized financially.
Even a little would help.
Leo listened without interrupting.
Then he smiled.
Not ironically.
Almost spontaneously.
“Clara,” he said softly, “you worry too much.”
I looked him straight in the eye.
He leaned back in his chair and shrugged slightly.
“We’ll figure it out. Things always work out somehow.”
That was all.
No serious discussion.
No worries.
No offer of help.
Just a smile and a vague assurance.
Something inside me broke immediately.
Because while I was drowning in fear, Leo seemed strangely unmoved.
And sadness has a cruel way of turning disappointment into resentment.
That night I barely slept.
By morning, my pain had hardened and turned into anger.
