It was warm. I gently placed my hand on her back, feeling the slight rise and fall of her breath, finally letting out a sigh of relief.
The rhythm of the movements under my hand changed, and then Sarah began to sob softly.
Unable to hold back any longer, I hugged her from behind and cried aloud. That night, we talked a lot. I expressed my apologies and regrets, and Sarah finally opened up about her true feelings since falling ill.
She had been strong all her life, but a stroke had turned her into a useless person, even having to perform the humiliation of wetting herself in front of others.
She said she would rather die. I sincerely apologized to her. We finally returned to the harmonious relationship we once had. I became more attentive to her emotions, never mentioning her accide
