As I continued to watch, the footage revealed a scene that no mother ever wants to witness. My husband put down his phone after a few minutes and stood up, walking over to where our daughter was playing. At first, he seemed gentle, picking up a toy and trying to engage her in play. I felt a small glimmer of hope, thinking perhaps I had been mistaken about his recent behavior.
But the hope was short-lived. Suddenly, his face twisted into a mask of frustration. My daughter, absorbed in her own world, had not immediately responded to his attempts to play. Instead of trying again or changing his approach, my husband abruptly stood up, his demeanor shifting alarmingly. He raised his voice, a tone I’d never heard him use with her before, his words sharp and impatient.
