LOVE HIS ENEMY: My Husband's Downfall
His chest rises and falls in peaceful rhythm, his tiny fingers curled into fists.
Tears blur my vision. Relief, overwhelming and painful, crashes over me. He’s here. He’s alive.
“Is he okay?” My voice shakes.
Michael nods. “It’s a miracle, but yes. He’s strong.”
I exhale a broken breath. My son. Against all odds, he survived.
There’s movement near the corner of the room. An older woman, elegant, with silver hair swept into a neat bun, steps forward hesitantly. Her eyes are kind, but filled with guilt. She clutches her hands together, as if unsure whether to approach.