My husband appeared on the baby monitor every night at 2 a.m. carrying a mysterious paper bag—when I finally watched him open it, I gasped

be my fault too.”

When he finally looked at me, real pain filled his face.

“Because you were already carrying so much. Every time I looked at you, you seemed one bad sentence away from shattering. So, I thought if I said, ‘By the way, I’m losing my mind too,’ it would be one cruelty too many.”

I covered my mouth.

The notebook lay between us.

He touched continue reading …