“My Marla called me ‘Mom’ for the first time today! I’m so happy…”
“Marla fell down today, but I couldn’t help her. She needs to learn to stand on her own, to be strong.”
“Marla said she hates me today. I…”
A dull ache spread through my chest.
But this time, it wasn’t from anger or betrayal. It was from a deep, quiet sadness.
The hatred I had carried for so long dissolved, replaced by a grief that words couldn’t express. It was the kind of sorrow that only comes when you realize how much you’ve lost, and how much you never truly understood.
