The following day, my mother-in-law came over.
The moment she saw me, she covered her mouth with her hand.
“Oh my God! What kind of example are you going to set for my grandchild?”
After those words, I could no longer hold back my tears.
But the most painful moment was still ahead.
That evening, Michael approached me, looked straight into my eyes, and said something that made my entire body go cold.
“Emily, I found your old childhood notebook today. And now Irealize you’ve been hiding something much bigger from me.”
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I sat on the couch, unable to lift my eyes.
Michael was holding my old childhood notebook.
It was the same notebook in which I had drawn my dreams when I was twelve years old.
Inside were pictures of arms covered in flowers, shoulders decorated
with butterflies, and one large sentence:
