Marriage vows say “in sickness and in health,” but when I fell ill, my husband chose himself. As I shivered with fever, he packed a bag and left, muttering about “needing rest.” Our baby’s cries didn’t stop him. My tears didn’t either.
Alone, I learned my own strength. When I finally texted him to come home, I didn’t yell. I didn’t beg. I set a trap.
His favorite meal. A spotless nursery. Me, looking refreshed. The moment he sighed in relief, I handed him Sadie and walked out for two glorious days of massages and silence. His panicked calls (“She threw up on me!”) were poetic justice.
Now? He changes diapers without complaint. But the lesson cost him my blind trust—and that’s something he’ll have to earn back.
