“One Night, I Heard My Husband Tell My Younger Sister, ‘Come to My Room at Midnight. This Time, We Have to Finally Do It.’ I Thought They Were Having an Affair. But When I Looked Through the Keyhole, I Saw My Husband Lying on the Floor—and My Sister Holding a Large Pair of Scissors…”

At that moment, Sophia entered the room.

She was holding medical documents.

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“Elizabeth, his latest test results are encouraging. The doctor says he doesn’t need another surgery right now. But Robert will have to continue going for regular checkups.”

I looked at my husband.

The man with whom I had spent more than three decades had been fighting his fears alone for months.

I approached him and wrapped my arms around him.

“Robert, I’m your wife. We lost our son together. We’ve overcome everything together. Why did you decide that you had to carry this pain alone?”

He began to sob.

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“I was afraid of hurting you again.”

“But your silence hurt me even more.”

Sophia came closer, too.

I took her hand.

“You should have told me as well.”

“I know, Elizabeth. Please forgive me.”

A few weeks later, the three of us went to the park.