He paused, his gaze finally returning to me, and I could see the conflict swimming in his eyes. "But I do know one thing. She'll be disappointed at first.
She's always dreamed of me having a wife, settling down, giving her grandkids. She's talked about it for as long as I can remember."
His words trailed off, and I noticed the way his hand curled slightly into the blanket, almost as if he was holding onto it for strength. A faint sigh slipped past his lips. "And because of that… I feel sorry for her. Sorry that I can't give her the life she imagined for me."
There was a weight in his confession, a heaviness that pressed against my chest. For the first time, I saw how much he carried, how much he worried about letting her down, about disappointing someone he clearly loved deeply.
