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?"

something bad," Ladmitted. It felt like a weight had been lifted just by

Chapter 81

one of quiet reassurance. "I'm sure you do everything for

warm embrace, but it didn't

into the kitchen, their eyes wide

Vesta's tone.

rush of emotion. How could I let them down? They believed in me, and I was determined not to disappoint them. That moment of clarity was short-lived,

kindergarten, but it quickly transformed into something darker. He looked at me

could see

in his

he turned and walked away

My heart sank. Had I misjudged his feelings? Did he think I was in danger? I wanted to call out to him, to explain that

words caught in my throat, heavy with unspoken fears. The sight

like a vice. Had I truly misread everything between us? The moments we had shared, the laughter and the late-night conversations-were they just figments of my imagination?