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?"

Ladmitted. It felt like a weight

Chapter 81

nodded, her expression one of quiet reassurance. "I'm sure you do

wrapped around me like a warm embrace, but it didn't

then, a group of kindergartners wandered into the kitchen, their eyes wide with curiosity.

Vesta's tone.

Their innocent words pierced through my cloud of doubt, and I felt a 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, though. Just as I began to gather

kindergarten, but it quickly transformed into something darker. He

could see the

in his

and walked away

feelings? Did he think I was in danger? I wanted to call out to him, to explain that I was

heavy with unspoken fears. The sight of Carlos walking away, his back rigid and unyielding,

I truly misread everything between us? The moments we had shared, the laughter and the late-night conversations-were they just figments