He Told Me to Choose Him or My Dementia-Stricken Father—So I Did

” I said. “You’re trying to save yourself—from inconvenience, from discomfort, from empathy.”

Mark’s eyes flashed.

“Don’t psychoanalyze me,” he snapped. “This is why people think you’ve lost it.”

Dad’s head lifted fully now.

He blinked at Mark.

Then he looked at me.

“What’s happening?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.

Mark smiled at him, fake-sweet.

“Nothing,continue reading …