It had been two years since the day I gave birth to my lovely triplets. Adam and I had named our children Andrew, Anthony, and Anne. Our marriage had been going smoothly until one particular night when everything changed.
That evening, I was in the kitchen, preparing a meal for Anne, who was nagging me for food. Suddenly, the door swung open, and Adam stumbled in, reeking of alcohol. My first thought was that he must have gone to a business meeting and ended up drinking too much. I quickly settled Anne in her room and went to assist Adam.
As we reached our bedroom, I tried to help him take off his clothes, but he swiped my hand away angrily. "I don't need you," he slurred. "I don't need you to do any f*****g thing for me. I can do it myself. I am not a handicapped."
His words st
