"Mom... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
My brother died in a car accident three years ago, and his passing devastated my parents.
My father was even unable to continue managing the company for a time.
My best friend Aria Perry helped my father walk in, her eyes red as she said to me, "Nyla, you're not alone. You still have us! Your brother is gone, but if you leave us too, I'll never forgive you!"
Looking at my parents' graying hair and my husband's pained expression, I gave up on the idea of suicide.
But my temper grew worse and worse.
If my husband did anything I didn't like, I would angrily throw things and slam doors.
But he patiently soothed me, never complaining, even when I hurt him.
When Aria came to visit and saw this, she would gently reprimand me for treating my loved ones so poorly.
But whenever I thought of how I was ruined, while she was still a piano teacher managing my studio, I felt jealous.
I envied her long fingers and that she could still chase her dreams; I envied her sitting gracefully at the piano, playing beautiful music!
My parents carefully looked after me, and my husband watched me with exhausted eyes.