She nods, blinking fast. “I know. I just hate that he has to do this. That he has to deal with me like this.”
“You’re his wife. In sickness and in health, right?”
She lets out a breathy laugh. “I guess.”
We sit in silence for a moment before she shifts, turning toward me more fully.
“I just… My thoughts… You’d think I was awful.”
“Why?”
“Because, like— Okay, for example…” She hesitates, like she’s weighing the words. “When Addison announced she was pregnant the other day…” Her voice drops. “My first thought was,Are you crazy? Why would anyone sign up for this?”
I blink, caught off guard by her honesty. I didn’t know what she’d say, but I didn’t think it would be that.
“And I know that’s terrible,” she says quickly. “She’s so excited, everyone’s happy. But all I could think was that she has no idea what she’s getting into.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “Like, I wish I would’ve warned her. Told her not to.”
“Karissa—”
“I don’t actually feel that way,” she interrupts. “I love my kids. I do. But in that moment? All I felt was dread. For her. Like she just signed up for the hardest thing in the world and doesn’t even know it yet.”
She shakes her head, eyes unfocused. “And then I felt guilty for even thinking that. Because what kind of person hears a pregnancy announcement and thinks, ‘Wow, you’re screwed’?”
“Someone who’s struggling,” I say gently.
She studies my face, like she’s bracing for judgment.
“You’re in the thick of it right now,” I continue. “Of course that’s where your brain goes. It just shows how much you’re hurting.”
Her chin trembles. “I just want to feel happy about things again. Normal things. Like babies and announcements and all the stuff everyone else gets excited about.”
“You will,” I tell her. “It’s going to take time. But you will.”
She nods, swiping at her cheek. “The medication better kick in soon. There’s a whole lot of birthdays and baby showers and weddings coming up.” She laughs, lightening the tension.
“Give it time.”
We sit there a little longer, the sound of Emma’s voice talking to Gage filling the space. Gage starts fussing, and Karissa stands, lifting him from the floor and settling him on her shoulder.
He relaxes instantly, his head dropping against her.
“He loves you,” I say softly. “You’re their favorite person in this whole world.”
She looks down at Gage, then back at me. “Yeah.” She smiles. “Thanks, Meg. For listening. And not judging.”
“Of course,” I say.
But as the day goes on, her words echo in my head. And I wonder if I’m slowly unraveling like she did too.
* * *
When I pull into our driveway, Mason’s truck still isn’t there. The house sits dark and quiet, waiting.
I let myself in, drop my purse on the counter, and sink onto the couch without even turning on a light. The silence presses in around me.
I keep replaying Karissa’s words in my head, turning them over like stones I’m examining from every angle. She has two kids. Two beautiful, healthy kids. And she can barely handle it. The medication, the therapy, the constant struggle just to feel okay—and she’s living what I’ve been desperate for.
What if I get what I want and end up the same way? What if I’m not built for it either?
