…their playful banter filling the room. David could hardly breathe, his heart a drum in his ears as he lay motionless beneath the bed. Clara and Mark entered, seemingly oblivious to anything but each other, their laughter mingling with the rustle of clothes being discarded.
David’s world shattered around him. The very fabric of trust he had woven with Clara now lay in tatters, each thread unraveling with every whispered word and shared smile between her and Mark. He was caught between the urge to burst out and confront them and the painful realization that his children had been right all along.
As he lay there, a different kind of clarity dawned on him. He realized how much he had missed the signs, how wrapped up he had been in his own narrative of a happy family. Clara’s late nights, her evasive answers about Mark, and the way she had slowly distanced herself from the twins all began to make sense. The twins, in their innocence, had seen what he had refused to acknowledge.
