She didn’t react with anger. Instead, she simply smiled at me and said, “I’m proud of you,” before walking away. For a moment, everything felt fine. After all, I had my own world to build. If she could manage hers, that was enough. I assumed that was just how life worked once you grew older.
A few months passed, and I found myself visiting her town while attending a conference. I told myself I wanted to see her, but deep down I needed reassurance that everything was okay. However, the moment I got close to her house, I sensed something was wrong. It felt empty, lifeless, stripped of all the warmth it once had.
A strange sound led me inside, where I found her lying on the floor—pale, trembling, and barely breathing. She looked so fragile and worn down that I realized how much of herself she had slowly given away over time. Panic flooded my mind as I dropped to my knees, feeling completely helpless. Through clenched teeth, she managed a faint smile and said, “I didn’t want you to worry.”
