hat evening, I overheard Kate venting to Andrew:
“Your mother criticizes everything I do, Andrew. I can’t take it anymore. I’m pregnant—I don’t need this stress.”
Andrew sighed. “Her leg is hurt, Kate. She has nowhere else to go. Can’t you try to understand?”
Feeling hurt, I stepped outside for some air. To my surprise, Mr. Davis, the grumpy neighbor, appeared and asked, “Care to join me for dinner tomorrow?”
The next evening, I found myself at his table, listening as he shared stories of his life and loneliness. “We don’t always realize how our actions affect others until it’s too late,” he said.
His words stuck with me. Returning home, I told Kate, “I owe you an apology. I’ve been difficult and unfair. You deserve support, not criticism.”
She looked surprised but softened. For the first time, we shared a moment of understanding.
