Mom, Please Love Me
But once a crack forms, it can never be fully sealed.
One weekend, while cleaning the study, my mother stumbled across my father's old photo album.
A yellowed movie ticket stub slipped out from between the pages.
The date on it was the very night of her assault.
Next to the stub, in elegant handwriting, was a small note that said, "Goodbye, my love."
It was my father's first love's handwriting.
My mother's heart sank. She had always believed that on that night, my father had left because of an urgent work emergency. But he had gone to say goodbye to his first love.