Jordan

The door creaks softly as I open it and head to the living room. A heavy silence hangs in the air, save for the rhythmic sound of Patricia's quiet breathing. She lay asleep on the couch, a troubled expression on her face.

Last night's argument lingers in my mind. I'm exhausted from the long nights spent at the hospital, watching over Brittany, who still remains in a coma.

Patricia's plea for my presence makes me feel guilty for not being able to be there for her as much as I want. I recollect my numerous comings and goings from the house these past weeks, and guilt consumes me even more as I gaze at her, wondering how to bridge the growing gap between us.

The memories of our wedding, just a few weeks ago, resurface in my head. The vows we exchanged, promising to stand by each other through thick and thin, seem to echo in this quiet room now. Yet, here I am, caught between my commitment to Patricia and the obligation to be with Brittany during this trying time.

I lower myself onto the