His ReliefScott cannot escape the ever-present notifications as he runs his fingers through his hair. Typing away at his computer, the faint but unmistakable tingling down his wrist, he pushes himself away. He picks up his phone, grasping it tightly, attempting to rush the blood to his hand. His body twitches as the sound of his heartbeat rings in his ears. His mind races with the bills that seem to come out of nowhere.He had planned it all out, and little by little, he was inching ahead of the trials and tribulations of life. Everything he questioned or struggled against had been falling into place as his savings returned once more. His fears were subsiding as the past-due bills stopped coming in.For a brief moment, the weight of his responsibilities eases, and he dares to believe that he might be winning the battle. The struggles that have defined his life seem to fade into the background. A small, almost forgotten smile graces Scott's lips as he feels the sensation of touch returning to his thumb. The tactile sensation of his phone case, a symbol of his victory, is a bittersweet reminder of the fleeting nature of his relief.A soft knock on his door shatters the illusion of peace, and the buzzing notifications on his phone return with a vengeance. His momentary relief evaporates, replaced by a tingling sensation that signals another problem. Another bill, unexpected and unwelcome, looms on the horizon. He knows his health is teetering on the edge, and his family, already struggling, would be lost without him.He twists his body and moves his mouse as the timer vibrates in his watch. Every few minutes, the mouse must move to track productivity, not the wheel and the screen but the mouth itself. His fist clenches unknowingly against his phone again as sweat drips down his back. How life seems to bog down in him is hopeless, but he has no choice.His mind races with the way the bills are piling up again. Every time he finds a way, an extra job, a tax rebate, something to save himself. Something to give them a little edge, it all comes crumbling down again. He almost fears it but wonders if insurance is his best bet. The last hope of a golden sunrise helping his family escape their Honda. Looking at his desk, he anxiously takes his keys and slips out the back door.Moving quickly and silently, he goes to the driveway. Stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes fell on Ella, his wife, as she unloaded groceries from the car. The softness in her eyes furrows as she witnesses the keys in his hand. Putting the bag into the truck, he pauses, holding his breath."What's going on?" Ella asks in a soft, barely audible whisper."I need to go out to...." Scott answers."No, you don't. Scott, you always text me, and I get it. What's going on?""I don't know how... how to manage...." His voice cracks, wavering as his hand trembles."You can't," she whispers, "You can't do this, you can't drive like this.""But the insurance, the money would...""We don't need it," Ella steps forward, hearing his heart racing in his chest. It would have been easier if she hadn't seen it."We'll lose our house. Our dream home.""It's only a house, my love. We don't need it; we can sell and downsize. Move back in with parents. We will manage. You can't fix things by doing this. We need you.""I'm failing," Scott says as he sobbed."You are not failing, my love. As long as you are trying, it is not a failure. Life doesn't always go as we want, but we can never end it. Think of what the kids would think, what would they say to be left behind.""They would have a better...""No, Scott. You can't do this to them or me. No matter what happens, we will survive. Promise me you will never think of this again, my love," Ella says as she looks at him with eyes that pierce his soul."I promise, Ella. I promise I won't ever give up."