Thirty-four weeks into my pregnancy, I was startled awake in the middle of the night by my husband’s panicked shouts. Little did I know that what followed would change everything, leading me to make a heart-wrenching decision.
With my due date just around the corner, I should have been filled with joy. Instead, I found myself grappling with deep disappointment and sorrow. My name is Mary, and this is the story of how one night made me realize I needed to walk away from my marriage.
Daniel and I have been married for five years, and for the most part, things seemed good—until recently.
“You’re overreacting,” Daniel would say whenever I brought up my fear of house fires. “We’ve got smoke alarms. What’s the worst that could happen?”
But for me, the fear was real. When I was 17, my family’s home caught fire, and we tragically lost our dog. The experience left a permanent mark on me. To this day, I can still recall the panic, the suffocating smoke, and the flashing lights of the fire trucks.
That night left me terrified of fire, and as a result, I’m extra cautious. I always double-check that the appliances are turned off, the stove is unplugged, and candles are never left burning. I know it frustrates Daniel, but I’ve never been able to let go of that fear—especially with a baby on the way.
Two nights ago, Daniel came home late with some friends. The house was filled with loud voices and laughter, and I asked him to keep it down since I needed some peace. He brushed off my concerns, insisting he wanted one last night of fun before our baby arrived.
Annoyed, I went upstairs to bed, and eventually drifted off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I was jolted awake by Daniel’s frantic voice: “Mary, get up! Fire!”
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