And just like that, everything shifted.
I became the planner, the researcher, the one holding everything together.
But at night, when the house was quiet, he would hold my hand and whisper:
“I’m scared.”
And I would lie.
“We’re going to be okay.”
Because I needed him to believe it.
Even when I wasn’t sure I did.
The Night Everything Ended
He passed away in our bedroom at 2 a.m.