As we pulled into the driveway, the tension in the car was palpable. Levi, still silent and withdrawn, opened the door and got out, his eyes fixed on the ground. He didn't even glance in our direction, just headed straight for the front door and disappeared into the house.
Gabriella, seemingly unfazed by our son's obvious distress, followed him into the house, her heels clicking on the tile floor. She didn't even bother to check on Levi, just continued on to our bedroom, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Jacob, sensing the unease, turned to me with a concerned expression. "Dad, I'll try to talk to Levi, see if I can get him to open up about what's bothering him," he said, his voice filled with a mix of empathy and determination.
I nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude towards my younger son. "Thanks, Jacob. I appreciate it. Just be gentle with him, okay?"
Jacob nodded and headed off towards Levi's room, his footsteps quiet on the carpet. I watched him go, feeling a sense of helplessness wash over me. Why wouldn't Levi talk to us? What was going on in that head of his?
I sighed and rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming on. This was not how I had envisioned our anniversary celebration. I had thought we would spend the evening laughing and reminiscing, not dealing with some unknown crisis that had our son shutting down on us.
As I stood there, feeling lost and uncertain, I realized that I had no idea what was going on in Levi's life. Was he struggling in school? Was there something going on with his friends? Or was this something deeper, something that had been building up for weeks or even months?
The questions swirled in my mind like a vortex, pulling me down into a sea of uncertainty and fear. I knew I had to find out what was going on, had to get Levi to talk to me. But how? And where did I even start?
I walked into the bedroom, exhausted and concerned about Levi's behavior. I had hoped to find Gabriella willing to listen and offer some insight into what might be bothering our son. Instead, I found her lying on the bed, her back turned towards me.
"Gabriella, do you have any idea what's going on with Levi?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm and non-accusatory.
But instead of responding with concern or empathy, Gabriella lashed out at me. "Why didn't you laugh at Jacob's jokes in the car?" she snapped, her voice bitter and accusatory.
I was taken aback by her sudden anger. "What does that have to do with anything?" I asked, confusion etched on my face.
"You're always so serious, so solemn," Gabriella continued, her voice rising. "Can't you just lighten up and have some fun for once?"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was Gabriella really the mother of our boys? How could she expect me to be all happy and jovial when one of our sons was breaking down emotionally?
"Gabriella, our son is struggling with something and you're worried about me not laughing at Jacob's jokes?" I asked, incredulity in my voice.
But Gabriella just continued to rant, her words becoming more and more hurtful. I realized that she was not going to be reasonable, that she was not going to listen to me or try to understand what was going on with Levi.
I shook my head, feeling a sense of sadness and frustration. I realized that I was on my own in this, that I would have to figure out what was going on with Levi without Gabriella's help.
I turned and walked out of the bedroom, leaving Gabriella to her anger and her bitterness. I knew that I had to be strong, for Levi's sake, and that I would have to find a way to connect with my son and help him through this difficult time.
I knocked gently on the boys' door, my heart still heavy with concern for Levi. Jacob answered, his expression somber, his eyes filled with a mix of worry and uncertainty.
"Hey, Dad," Jacob said, his voice low and serious. "Levi hasn't said anything to me. He's just been lying there, staring at the wall."
I nodded, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. I could feel my anxiety spiking, my thoughts spiraling out of control. But I knew I had to stay calm, for Levi's sake.
"Jacob, can I have some privacy with your brother?" I asked, my voice soft and gentle. "I need to talk to him alone."
Jacob nodded understandingly, his eyes filled with a deep concern. He slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him, leaving me alone with Levi.
I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. I sat down on the bed beside Levi, who was still lying on his stomach, his back to me. I could feel his pain and distress radiating from his body, like a palpable force.
I gently began to rub his shoulder, trying to offer some comfort, some solace. My hand trembled slightly as I touched him, my emotions raw and exposed.
"Hey, Levi," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "It's Dad. I'm here for you, no matter what. You can tell me anything, okay?"
At first, Levi didn't respond. He just lay there, his body tense and unyielding, his silence a heavy weight that pressed down on me. But I continued to rub his shoulder, speaking softly and reassuringly, trying to break through the wall of silence that surrounded him.
Slowly, I felt his body begin to relax, his muscles unknotting as he began to trust me. His breathing slowed, his tension easing, as he finally began to open up.
"Dad..." he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I followed Mom out of the restaurant."
My heart skipped a beat. I felt a surge of shock and disbelief, my mind reeling with the implications.
"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Levi hesitated, his voice cracking. "I saw her...kissing someone else."
I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. My mind raced with questions and emotions, my heart heavy with a mix of anger, sadness, and betrayal. But I forced myself to stay calm, to be there for Levi.
"Oh, Levi," I whispered, my voice filled with pain and compassion. "I'm so sorry. That must have been really tough for you to see."
Levi nodded, his body shaking with sobs. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close as he cried out his pain and betrayal. I felt a surge of anger towards Gabriella, but I pushed it aside, focusing on my son's needs.
As Levi cried, I held him tight, speaking softly and reassuringly. I told him that I loved him, that I was there for him, and that we would get through this together. I told him that he wasn't alone, that I would support him every step of the way.
Slowly, Levi's sobs subsided, and he lay there, his body exhausted but his heart beginning to heal. I held him for a long time, my arms wrapped around him, my heart filled with a deep love and compassion.