The night everything fractured
We won't share every detail here. Some wounds are sacred — meant only for the two who carry them. But we will tell you this much:
The months that followed the discovery were the hardest either of us has ever lived. There were days we couldn't be in the same room. There were nights we couldn't sleep apart. There were moments when the only prayer we could manage was one word: Help.
We sat in counseling offices and read every book we could find. We prayed the prayers people told us to pray. And some of it helped — but none of it reached the place where we were stuck.
The heart had forgiven. The body hadn't received the message.
We could talk about it. We could pray about it. But every time we reached for each other, something inside still flinched and went rigid before we could stop it. And nobody was talking about that.