Henry's gentle yet firm grip on your hand, a barrier to your reaching for a cigarette, was a mixture of concern and love. The look on his face held a hint of worry, his voice filled with a combination of sternness and tenderness as he pleaded, "Please, not in front of the boys."

Your gaze moved to your innocent children, their eyes wide with fascination, blissfully unaware of the adult conflict unfolding before them. Your heart ached at the sight, wrestling with the desire for a cigarette and the responsibility to be a good mother.