He handled the bedtime I had nothing left for

Dear Delyara, He saw it before I did properly. I was still answering, still moving, still making the kitchen work, but something in my face must have told the truth. He just said, “I’ve got bedtime,” and took the whole thing upstairs — stories, teeth, one child asking for water twice, the whole soft repetitive performance I simply did not have left in me tonight. The house felt lighter the second they went up. That is the kind of help I value most now. Not after collapse. Before it.