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I found 30 red spots on my husband’s back that looked like insect eggs.

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David smiled that quiet, tired smile of his — the same one that first made me fall in love with him eight years ago. “It’s fine, honey. I’ll survive a little itch.”

That was David. A man who never made a fuss. Who came home from work covered in dust, kissed our daughter Emma on the head, and still found the strength to laugh at my burnt lasagna attempts.

We didn’t have much, but our small house in Tennessee was full of laughter, warmth, and love — the kind that made every struggle worth it.

Until the morning everything changed.

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