You are the one who pushed him in the arms of another

Growing up, the only public display of affection my parents ever felt comfortable exhibiting was when mom sat down on the mat, my father on a karamajong stool, and with the attentiveness of a neurosurgeon she would cut his toenails and gently rub his aching feet until the week’s stress faded away.
Martin Bishopu2019s Black Diary
Martin Bishop’s Black Diary
Times Reporter