returning home
Jess dismissed my ultimatum with a laugh, insisting she’d find a way to salvage her career without my help. Defeated, I made my way back home. When I arrived, Jacob was on the couch, sitting in silence. His face still carried the raw imprint of disbelief and pain. He glanced at me briefly before turning away, the gesture amplifying the heaviness in the room. I stood there, unsure how to ease his burden or offer any comfort.
Returning Home
the boiling point
Dad’s anger simmered just below the surface, sharp and palpable in every interaction. He slammed cabinet doors and spoke in clipped, biting tones, each word heavy with frustration. In the kitchen, Mom wept quietly, her tears a reflection of the emotional weight threatening to pull us all under. Every glance they exchanged was loaded with unspoken arguments, a silent battleground of unresolved tension. Our family felt like it was teetering on the edge of collapse.
The Boiling Point
