When I got really sick while caring for our newborn daughter, my husband Drew did the unthinkable—he walked out. He said my coughing kept him up and that I could “handle it better” since I was the mom. No calls, no help, no concern. I was left alone, feverish and exhausted, taking care of a six-month-old on pure willpower. Once I recovered, I let him come home to a spotless house,
a hot meal, and a smiling baby—then I handed her to him, grabbed my suitcase, and walked out for a weekend spa retreat. No warning,
just payback.He called. Panicked. Pleaded. And finally understood what I’d been dealing with. When I came home, I didn’t hand him divorce papers—I gave him a schedule with his name on half the tasks. I told him I needed a partner, not a burden. To his credit,
he’s trying. But I’m watching. Because I’m not someone you leave behind when things get hard—I’m the woman who makes sure you never forget that mistake.
