Then he kissed my forehead like the decision had already been made without me.
So I quit.
It made sense. Caring for twins would be challenging, and even though I loved my job, I figured I could always go back to it later.
At first, everything felt soft. Safe.
But soon enough, the cracks appeared.
The fridge stayed full without me thinking about it.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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