This revelation hit me hard. I’d been so focused on my own anger and frustration that I hadn’t considered the emotional weight my wife had been carrying. With this new understanding, I realized she needed support, not judgment. Over the next few weeks, she began therapy, and slowly, I started to notice small changes. She started painting again, reconnecting with the part of herself that had been lost in the daily grind of motherhood.

Her relationship with our son began to improve as well. I saw them reading together, and she started teaching him how to draw. It was clear that the distance between them was closing. Slowly but surely, our family was healing. We weren’t perfect, but we were learning how to support each other through the tough times. Together, we began to rebuild what had been broken.