I could hear his whisper in my ear,“I won’t lose you, baby. I will fight for us till my last breath.” His words were so sincere they sent goosebumps across my skin. I wanted to fight for us, but I was losing my strength. I longed to reassure him, to say I was ready to fight as well, but my words felt hollow compared to his.

Deep in thought, I realized I had lost myself over the years, trying desperately to prove a point to Declan. It was a painful revelation to realize all my efforts had been in vain.

Sitting in the bathtub, I screamed without even realizing it. I wasn’t in a marriage; I was in a mirage. His actions haunted me daily, yet I felt powerless. I wanted to walk up to him and demand a divorce, but his charming words always stopped me. They made me feel like a child yearning for her mother’s soothing lullabies.

I loved Declan deeply, but each day his behavior turned more monstrous. It was as if he were a drug addict (though I knew he wasn’t). Still, his unpredictable actions made me doubt.

Leaving seemed like the only option, but every time I thought of walking away, I was overwhelmed by memories of everything we had built together. 

Clinton’s words echoed in my mind: “Declan will make you cry someday.” I had dismissed them back then, attributing his warning to jealousy because I knew he had always had feelings for me, but I refused to acknowledge them.

That morning, as I woke to Declan’s whisper, I realized I hadn’t truly fought for what we shared. It was then I decided to take a step for myself and us.

I signed up for therapy, a decision that began my healing process. It also made me realize that Declan needed help, too.

When he came home from work, I initiated a heart-to-heart conversation. For the first time, we both laid everything bare. By the end, we agreed that he would start therapy as well.

I stood by him through it all, as I had promised on our wedding day “ In sickness and in health”. After every session, he’d say, “Thank you for not leaving.” I would smile and respond, “Thank you for doing this for us.”

One evening, after a particularly introspective session, he chuckled and said, “Maybe, when I’m done healing, we can start trying for a baby.”

I froze in surprise. Declan had never embraced the idea of having children before. But seeing the look on my face, he winked and added, “I knew we’d have kids eventually, but I wasn’t ready psychologically. Now, I think I am. I believe in my healing process.”

His words brought tears to my eyes. I stood up, hugged him tightly, and kissed his forehead, leaving a faint red lipstick stain behind. At that moment, I felt something I hadn’t in years.