“I had a baby four months ago.”

“I know.”

“I’m up half the night. I barely have time to eat.”

He sighed.

“Claire, plenty of women have babies and get themselves back in shape.”

I stared at him.

He was already irritated.

“I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m being honest.”

That night, after he fell asleep, I locked myself in the bathroom and cried as quietly as possible.

Our daughter stirred in the bedroom, and I immediately covered my mouth.

For the first time since marrying Ryan, I truly believed he might leave me.

The next morning, before I could change my mind, I put on my sneakers, strapped my daughter into her stroller, and started walking.

At first, twenty minutes was all I could manage.

My legs ached, and some days my daughter started crying halfway through. I’d hurry home feeling like I’d failed at something embarrassingly simple.