“Your father loves us,” I said quietly.
“I know. But I don’t want to become a husband who makes his wife afraid to speak.”
I sat down.
For years, I’d told myself Wade’s comments were small things. I’d assumed ignoring them kept the peace.
Now my son was telling me that my silence had taught him something I never wanted him to learn.
The problem wasn’t staying between my husband and me anymore.
“Graham, I don’t want you and Tobin fighting with your father.”
“We don’t want that either.”
“Then I need to speak for myself tonight.”
There was a pause.
“That’s what we were hoping, Mom.”
After the call, I thought about our 20 years together.
Wade wasn’t cruel every day. He worked hard, remembered birthdays, and stayed up with the boys when they were sick.
There were reasons I loved him.
