“I know,” she said, her expression softening. “But we need a plan, Jacob. Maybe we can call the church? They were helpful last time.” Jacob grimaced, the thought making his stomach churn. The idea of asking for help again—of admitting, even silently, that he couldn’t provide—felt like another blow to his pride.
He hated how much of himself he’d lost to these endless struggles. “I’ll go to the store,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’ll figure something out.” Maria studied him for a moment, her eyes searching his face. She didn’t push back, though he could see the unspoken worry in her expression.