The word slipped out before I even heard myself say it. One tiny “just” that quietly detonated in the middle of our kitchen. I thought it was harmless. She went silent. Days passed, and the distance between us grew — not in shouts, but in the way she stopped reaching for me. Then a package arrived, and every illusion I’d had about her life, her past, and my own blind ingratitude shatt… Continues…
