A few minutes later, I sat at the kitchen table while she poured hot water into two cups.
My hands trembled so badly I had to wrap them around the mug just to steady them.
Finally, the words slipped out.
“He’s cheating on me again.”
They sounded strangely flat, as if they had already been repeated too many times.
“I forgave him before,” I continued quietly. “I tried to understand. I told myself marriage meant patience.”
My throat tightened.
“But I’m exhausted, Grandma. I feel foolish for staying… and broken because I don’t know how to leave.”
She listened without interrupting.
Her face was calm.
Her eyes steady.
When my words finally ran out, she stood up and gently motioned for me to follow.
