I covered my face.
And I cried.
Not quietly.
Not gracefully.
I cried the way people cry when they have been trying to be strong for too long.
He immediately stood up.
“What happened?”
I couldn't answer.
I kept thinking about everything.
How young he was.
How tired he looked.
How much he had given up.
How little he complained.
How he had gone from being a twenty-year-old student to a husband and father almost overnight.
And somehow, instead of running away from the responsibility, he had stepped directly into it.
He gently came toward me.
“Why are you crying?”
I finally managed to speak.
“Because I'm sorry.”
“For what?”
“For making your life so difficult.”
He stared at me as if he couldn't believe what I had just said.
Then he shook his head.
“You didn't make my life difficult.”
“But you're exhausted.”
“Yes.”
“You're sick sometimes.”
“Yes.”
“You work all day and still do everything at home.”
He was quiet.
Then he said something I will never forget.
“I'm tired because life is hard right now.”
He took my hands.
“But that doesn't mean I regret you.”
I looked up at him.
“I don't regret our baby.”
“I don't regret marrying you.”
“We'll get through this.”
I started crying even harder.
I Thought About Leaving
That night, after he finally went to sleep, I lay awake thinking.
Maybe I should go back to his hometown.
Maybe I should take the baby with me for a while.