Nina listened to them all and responded politely, but didn’t give in. And each day, she seemed to stand a little taller.
One evening, as we sat side by side folding laundry, Nina broke the quiet.
“I should’ve stopped protecting her years ago.”
I paused, a half-folded t-shirt in my hands. “What do you mean?”
“Jenna. I’ve been making excuses for her my whole life. Smoothing things over. Fixing what she breaks.” She placed a neatly folded towel on the pile. “It’s exhausting.”
“You don’t have to do it anymore.”
She leaned her head on my shoulder, soft but sure.
“Thank you.”
The air felt lighter. Maybe for the first time in a long time, she could finally breathe. And so could I.
