I came home from a business trip expecting silence, not a note from my husband: “Take care of the old woman in the back room.”
I came home expecting silence. The kind of quiet that settles into a house after a long day, where nothing asks anything of you. Instead, I found a note on the kitchen counter. Short. Careless. Written like an afterthought. “Take care of the old woman in the back room. Don’t make this a drama.” That…
