I sigh as I close the door behind me, leaving my keys on the hallway table. Exhausted, I kick off my shoes, feeling completely drained. I run a hand through my hair, glancing at the mess around me, and I hesitate to even look at the rest of the apartment. I slip off my coat and hang it on the coat rack before making my way toward the living room, where I can hear voices. A smile spreads across my face when I see you playing with our daughter, Coralyn. She giggles every time you pull a funny face.

I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms over my chest, and watch the two of you, my heart swelling with love. We've been together since we were 16, still in school, and by 18 we were bold enough to get married. A few months later, we found out we were expecting Coralyn. In the beginning, everything felt perfect. But a year later, everything had changed. The joy and love we once shared quickly faded as the reality of being teenage parents hit us—along with the weight of our responsibilities. We've grown distant, and it hurts. I truly believed we'd be happy and in love forever, but maybe I was wrong.

I walk over and sit on the couch, observing as you continue to play on the floor with dolls and cars, seemingly oblivious to me. You look exhausted—dark circles under your eyes, messy hair in a bun, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and shorts.

Before I can say anything, Coralyn turns toward me and flashes a wide smile before running toward me, her tiny feet pattering on the floor. I smile back, opening my arms as she throws herself into them.

"Hey there, little one," I say, amused, to our 1 year old baby. "Are you making mommy suffer?"