Po 17 latach małżeństwa mój mąż nalegał, żebyśmy zamienili się miejscami w łóżku, a jego argumenty mnie oszołomiły

This time, I stopped him.

“I understand why you did it.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I do.”

“You found something small and alone, and you decided to stay.”

I looked at him.

“Then you tried to protect that decision.”

“Badly.”

“Very badly.”

He smiled.

“But you should have trusted me.”

“I know.”

“I’m not the person who says no to helpless kittens under back steps.”

“I wasn’t sure.”

That hurt more than I expected.

David seemed to realize it.

“I think I confused organized with rigid,” he said.

I stayed quiet.

“You plan everything. You think ahead. Somewhere along the way, I started thinking that meant you wouldn’t accept something unexpected.”

He shook his head.

“But that isn’t who you are.”

“No.”

“Planning ahead means you know how to handle things when the plan changes.”

“Yes.”

“I forgot that.”

We sat quietly.

Scout had fallen asleep in my hands.

Then David admitted something else.

He had wanted to handle the kitten himself.

Not because he didn’t trust me.

Not entirely.

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