So I did.
For a while.
Until the night I noticed something else.
Evan had stopped telling me about Emma’s nightmares.
He would simply disappear into her room.
And every morning, he’d act as if nothing had happened.
Then, one Tuesday, I decided to surprise him at work.
Evan was a surgeon at a large hospital.
His schedule was brutal.
He missed Thanksgiving.
He missed our anniversary.
He even missed Emma’s eighth birthday party because of an emergency surgery.
So I packed his favorite lunch, added a slice of apple pie, and slipped a note underneath the fork.
“You don’t have to take care of everyone.
Let me have a turn.”
I smiled as I drove to the hospital.
I thought he’d be surprised.
Instead, I found him talking to a doctor in the hallway.
When he saw me, his expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Like someone who had been caught doing something he wasn’t prepared to explain.
“Carrie?”
I smiled.
“Surprise.”
He looked at the lunch bag.
Then at me.
Then at the doctor standing beside him.
The doctor quietly walked away.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Why did that doctor leave?”
“He had another patient.”
I studied Evan’s face.
“You look exhausted.”
“I am.”
I touched his arm.
“Come home tonight. Emma needs you. And honestly, so do I.”
He smiled.
“I’ll try.”
That night, he left our bedroom again.
I waited.
Then I heard Emma’s bedroom door close.
Something inside me finally broke.
Not because I thought Evan was hurting her.
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