CHAPTER 70: THE FATHER'S PRIDE

MARTIN

"Could you please relax? I'm getting dizzy because of you," my wife, Thalia, said as she sat on a rocking chair, crocheting as if nothing bad could happen at any moment.

"I can't," I accidentally spat on her, causing her to give me a piercing look above her eyeglasses. "Look, Thalia, if you can stay calm in times like this, I can't." Walking to the window, I closed the blinds and peeked outside.

The sea was calm, with many people playing by the shore and basking in the sun, burning their skin.

Children's laughter is usually uplifting, but I couldn't find any joy. I felt distressed!

"We've been in this situation for almost four months now, Martin. Trust our son, he knows what he's doing," she calmly reassured me, glancing at the crocheted cats by the window, gazing up at the moon. "Look at this, I've finished it. What do you think?"

"That would be the twentieth crochet you've made, and this will be the twentieth time I'd say it's pretty," I replied.

I don't mean to be rude, but