My wife started leaving the house at night and returning around 5 or 6 a.m. At first, I tried to ignore it, convincing myself she was just out for a drive or visiting friends. But as the nights grew more frequent,
suspicion crept in.I began to fear the worst—infidelity.One night, unable to stand the torment any longer, I decided to follow her. My heart pounded as I drove a few cars behind, headlights dimmed. She wasn’t headed to a bar or a strange neighborhood like I expected.
Instead, she drove straight toward my parents’ house. Confusion replaced anger.I parked a block away and crept closer, hiding behind a tree. My younger brother stepped outside, and they exchanged a few quiet words.
Then he led her inside. My chest tightened—what could they possibly be hiding from me? I rushed to the window and peered through a small gap in the curtains.Inside, I saw my father lying in a hospital bed we’d set up in the living room.