It started innocently.
Ben had been working almost every night for two weeks.
The previous evening, he’d come home after midnight, barely eaten, and fallen asleep sitting on the edge of our bed.
I’d watched him for several minutes before quietly taking his shoes off.
The next morning, I decided to surprise him.
I packed his favorite sandwich.
No tomatoes.
Extra turkey.
The bread toasted exactly the way he liked it.
I added apple pie because he always claimed apple pie counted as breakfast if nobody was watching.
Then I slipped a small note underneath the fork.
You don’t have to take care of everyone. Let me have a turn.
I smiled when I wrote it.
I thought I was being a good wife.
I thought I was bringing lunch to an exhausted husband.
I had no idea I was about to walk into a conversation that would change our marriage.
