SANDRA
The apartment was filled with a bitter, awkward silence. It felt like someone else was there, just sitting in the corner, saying nothing but making everything feel tense. I moved around the kitchen. The only sounds were the click of plates and the frying pan hissing.
Don had come down a few minutes ago. He was on the table, his eyes following my movement. The other day was filled with an argument between the two of us.
Everything had been perfect between us, and we were really happy, not until he blurted those words to the doctor.
Erectile dysfunction.
That was exactly what the doctor called it. I couldn't believe that Don kept such an important conversation from me. What kind of husband keeps such information from his wife? I wonder what else he is hiding from me.
He had tr
