Days pass, and the tension between us begins to ease slightly. We’ve started to talk more, addressing the problems that have been simmering beneath the surface. It’s not easy, but it’s a start.
The rat problem, however, persists. Despite our best efforts, the traps remain empty, and the scratching noises continue to haunt our nights.
One evening, as we sit at the kitchen table, my wife looks at me, a hint of determination in her eyes.
“We need to do something more,” she says, her voice firm.
I nod, knowing she’s right. “Maybe we should call an exterminator,” I suggest, though the cost worries me.
She agrees, and we decide to make the call the next day, hoping that professional help will finally rid us of the uninvited guest in our home.
As we sit there, planning our next steps, I feel a sense of solidarity between us, a shared determination to tackle our problems head-on.
It’s a small comfort, but it’s enough to keep us moving forward, one day at a time.
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