The weight of his words hung in the air between us, heavy and suffocating. I could feel the walls closing in, the safe world I had built for my children suddenly fragile, like glass about to shatter.
I closed the door slowly, leaning against it for a moment as I tried to collect myself. I could hear the kids still playing, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling just outside their little world.
But I knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long.
The sharp, unmistakable smell of something burning snapped me back to reality.
“Oh my God!” I yelped, dashing into the kitchen. A cloud of smoke hung in the air, curling out from the pot. My heart sank as I reached over to turn off the gas, mumbling, “No, no, no… this can’t be happening.”
With a grimace, I lifted the pot lid, only to be met with the charred remains of what used to be noodles. The half-burnt mess at the bottom clung stubbornly to the pot, taunting me.
I sighed, pressing my fingers to my forehead, feeling the frustration rise.
“G
