My Husband Started Sneaking Out to His Van Every Night – When I Found Out the Truth, I Couldn’t Stop Crying

Jake scooped up Theo, tears running down his face too.

We sat on the couch, all four of us crying, like a tiny, messy ship in a storm.

The next couple of months were a mix of terror and weird, intense gratitude.

There were more tests. More scans.

More waiting rooms. More “we’ll call with results.”

There were also… better things.

We stopped saying, “We’ll do that later.”

We let Maddie stay up late to watch a movie on the floor between us.

We took the kids for ice cream at 3 p.m. on a Wednesday.

We danced in the kitchen to bad music while the baby watched us from his bouncer.

Sometimes Jake still went out to the van to write, but he didn’t sneak anymore.

“Can I come?” I asked one night.

He hesitated, then nodded.

We sat on the mattress, surrounded by our whole life in pictures.

He pressed play on the recorder.

“Hey, future you,” his voice said.

“If you’re listening to this, it means your mom finally agreed to let you have a phone, which took way too long—”

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