His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace

Chapter 81

I imagined his concerned face, the way he would listen intently, ready to offer guidance, and I couldn't shake the feeling that my hesitation might push him

further from me.

Perhaps it was safer to keep my struggles hidden, to play the part of the composed person I wanted everyone to believe I was.

But that thought only deepened the chasm of isolation I felt, and I knew I had to make a decision soon, before the weight of my secrets became too heavy to bear.

Instead, I made my way to the kindergarten, hoping to find some comfort in talking to Vesta. The walk there was usually a pleasant one, filled with the sounds of children playing and the rustle of leaves. But today, every step felt heavy with the weight of my decisions. As I entered the kindergarten, the familiar sounds of laughter welcomed me, but I still felt heavy with uncertainty. I found Vesta in the kitchen, humming softly to herself as she tidied up.

Her presence was soothing, like a warm blanket on a cold day. Watching her, I felt a flicker of hope that maybe she could help me untangle my thoughts.

"Vesta, I..." I began, but the words stuck in my throat. How could I tell her what I was feeling? The thought of confessing my inner turmoil felt daunting, like opening a floodgate of emotions I wasn't sure I was ready to face.

She looked at me, her eyes filled with understanding. "You seem troubled," she said gently. "What's on your mind?"

"I'm about to do something bad," Ladmitted. It felt like a weight had been lifted just by voicing my fears, but I still struggled to articulate

Chapter 81

"I'm sure you do everything for a reason,"

it didn't completely dispel my doubts. What reason could

group of kindergartners wandered into the kitchen, their eyes wide with curiosity. They had overheard our conversation and

Vesta's tone.

let them down? They

saw me safe in the kindergarten, but it quickly transformed into something darker. He looked

see

in his

as he turned and walked away without

wanted to call out to him, to explain that I was okay, that I needed him

caught in my throat, heavy with unspoken fears. The sight of Carlos walking away,

in, wrapping around me like a vice. Had I truly misread everything between us? The moments we had shared, the laughter