Through an open window, I heard him speaking about his trauma — how the memory of nearly losing me made it painful for him to bond with our daughter. His tears revealed fear, not rejection; grief, not anger. He wasn’t running away from us—he was trying to find the strength to stay.
The next day, instead of confronting him with suspicion, I approached him with love. I admitted I had followed him and told him I understood. We both realized that trauma had touched us in different ways — while I struggled physically, he struggled emotionally, haunted by the memory of almost losing everything. Wanting to help, I joined a support group for partners and slowly, we began to heal side by side.
