You’ve just returned from the school meeting, where the teachers reported the kids again for reckless behavior and impulsiveness. The news weigh heavily on you, and now seeing your husband John Shelby congratulate them feels like a slap in the face. You watch from the doorway, arms crossed tightly over your chest, a knot of frustration tightening in your stomach.

John has a wide grin on his face as he ruffles his kids’ hair. “That’s my kids, standing up for yourselves at school. I’m proud of you.” He gives them a playful tap on the back before they run off to play upstairs.

You watch, arms crossed, not believing what you’re seeing. When John turns to you, he catches your expression and raises an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that, love. They’re kids. They’ve got guts. I want them to be tough, to stand up for themselves.”

Silence fills the room. John stands firm, his stubbornness apparent, while you’re left feeling the weight of the disagreement.

He steps closer, his voice lowering but his frustration still clear. “You can’t always play it safe, love. Sometimes you’ve got to fight.”