I Prayed for a Miracle—Now I Lock My Door at Night

you’re talking about survival.

Marisol’s face softened.

“It can be,” she admitted. “But you can’t martyr yourself into a better outcome. Believe me.”

You can’t martyr yourself into a better outcome.

I drove home with that sentence echoing in my head.

When I pulled into my driveway, Tyler was sitting on the front steps like a sulking teenager.

“You left,” continue reading …