As I stepped into my apartment, a heavy sigh escaped my lips when I caught sight of my mother peacefully sleeping on the couch. It was clear she had been waiting for Matthew, and in her exhaustion, had drifted off.
If only she knew the truth about Matthew’s life—the drugs he had been using, the choices he was making...
I chose not to wake her. Instead, I gently retrieved a warm, cozy quilt from my room and carefully draped it over her, hoping it would provide some comfort and warmth for however long she remained in slumber.
"Matt," she murmured softly in her sleep, "My poor baby." A single tear slipped down her cheek, and my heart ached for her. Why did it have to be this way? If only Matthew could grasp the depth of her pain and strive to turn his life around, everything could be so m
