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A hospitality staff standing at the reception area | Source: Pexels
I poured it all out. The birthday dinner, the cruel words, the public humiliation. The confusion, the shame, the sickening feeling that my entire marriage was a lie. “He said I was living off him, eating for free, Dad,” I choked out, tears finally spilling over. “He said it in front of everyone. Does he truly think that? After all we’ve built?”
My dad listened, his face a mask of concern. He reached across the table and took my hand. “That’s a terrible thing to say, honey,” he said, his voice soft, but I noticed a strange tremor in it. His eyes flickered away for a second, a fleeting nervous glance towards the window. Odd.
An upset man | Source: Midjourney
An upset man | Source: Midjourney
I looked at my dad, searching his eyes for reassurance, for an explanation, for him to tell me my husband was just drunk, that he didn’t mean it. I needed him to tell me I wasn’t a burden.
“Complicated?” My blood ran cold. What could be complicated about this?
My breath hitched. “Why, Dad? Please. Tell me.”
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