Falling Apart

The living room was quiet, save for the occasional sound of Andrew flipping through the pages of a magazine. I was curled up on the couch, sipping tea, letting the warmth of the moment soothe the remnants of the anxiety that had plagued me all day. Tristan was resting upstairs, and it felt like, for the first time in what seemed like forever, things were finally calming down.

“You know,” Andrew said, breaking the silence, “we should take Tristan on a trip once he’s feeling better. Somewhere peaceful, away from all this chaos.”

I smiled at the thought. “I think he’d love that. He’s been asking about visiting the mountains for a while now.”

Andrew nodded, his eyes soft as he glanced over at me. “We could make it happen. Just the three of us.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could say anything, a loud, heart-stopping thud echoed from upstairs, followed immediately by a cry of pain; Tristan’s cry.

My heart dropped.

In an instant, Andrew and I were both on our feet, rushing to