Mom Pov Sandra Work «SAFE - 2024»

Liam awkwardly handed me a candy bar from the gas station. Chloe crawled onto my lap—she hasn't done that in years—and whispered, "Dad yelled at a red light today. It was funny."

I looked at her. My beautiful, glue-stained daughter. "Not today, honey," I said, my voice flat. "Call Dad. Tell him to come back. I can't."

"Do you know what I see?" Jenna said quietly, pointing toward the kitchen. "From my POV? I see a mom who made a dinosaur diorama at 11 PM. I see a dog who is still alive and fed. I see a son who felt safe enough to forget his permission slip because he knew you'd handle it." mom pov sandra

By Sandra

I woke up with a stiff neck. I had slept on the wrong side of the pillow after staying up until midnight finishing the laundry. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a Lego brick on my nightstand. I don't even know how it got there. Liam awkwardly handed me a candy bar from the gas station

Mark came home with takeout pizza and a bottle of red wine. He didn't ask about dinner. He just kissed my forehead and said, "Jenna told me. I'm sorry."

I didn't move.

I scrolled my phone mindlessly. Instagram showed me a mom baking gluten-free unicorn cupcakes. Facebook reminded me of a memory from five years ago: "Sandra is feeling blessed!" with a photo of a perfect pumpkin patch outing.