For illustrative purposes only
We sat at the table—just the three of us. Susie insisted we rate the pancakes. Her syrup-drenched creation earned a twelve. Ryan’s extremely crispy attempt earned a seven, which he defended valiantly. Mine—the only one cooked after the chaos—received a perfect ten.
“The color is perfect, Mommy,” Susie said solemnly. “That’s how pancakes should look, Daddy.”
After breakfast, she curled up with cartoons, leaving me and Ryan alone in the kitchen. He reached for my hand, gently tracing the top of it with his thumb.
“I missed this,” he said. “I missed you.”
“I was always here,” I replied. “I just got… quieter. I’ve been exhausted, Ryan. It’s been tough holding everything together alone.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Nancy,” he murmured. “I thought I was focusing on work. I thought I was doing ‘my part.’ But I didn’t realize what I was missing by being so selfish.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “But we have to keep working on this… for Susie.”
He nodded, pulled me close, and kissed me gently.
For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel like the backup parent or the invisible glue holding our family together. I felt loved. Seen. Heard.
« Gezien worden is geliefd zijn, Nancy, » zei mijn grootmoeder altijd tegen me.
En nu—voor het eerst—geloof ik haar echt.
Notitie: Dit verhaal is een fictief werk geïnspireerd op echte gebeurtenissen. Namen, personages en details zijn aangepast. Elke gelijkenis is toevallig. De auteur en uitgever ontkennen juistheid, aansprakelijkheid en verantwoordelijkheid voor interpretaties of vertrouwen. Alle afbeeldingen zijn uitsluitend ter illustratie.
