My Husband Constantly Mocked Me for Doing Nothing, Then He Found My Note After the ER Took Me Away

He scoffed, threw on a different shirt, and slammed the door behind him as he left. The echo of his departure lingered in the silence, sharp as the ache still twisting inside me.

By noon, I could barely stand. Each step felt like walking through water, heavy and slow, as though my body no longer belonged to me.

My vision blurred, and the pain had become unbearable. The tiles seemed to tilt beneath me, a dizzying swell of white light pressing at the edges of my vision. I collapsed in the kitchen just as the boys were finishing lunch.

I remember hearing them scream. The younger one, Noah, started crying. His small, trembling voice cut through the haze, piercing me with a guilt I was too weak to bear.

My oldest, Ethan, who was only seven, ran out of the apartment.

I could not stop him or even speak. I barely remember the sirens or what happened next.

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