Steve and I had been passionately in love during the early years. Date nights, trips out of town, words of affirmation, deeds of service, time spent: you name it, we did it. We were experts at keeping the romance alive. My second child was just shy of five months old when my husband wrecked my car. Instead of being concerned for his safety, I wanted to run away. He may have been stranded on the side of the interstate, but it was just too much for me.
Even though I adored my children and loved the opportunity to be a stay-at-home mom, caring for two little ones all day is not a walk in the park. On top of that, I was still trying to nurture a relationship with the man I married, promising to love, cherish and respect him. But as we hung up the phone that morning, I was fully aware that the wreck was his fault, and we had no car insurance.
Every little burden piled on my shoulders.
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