When he saw me standing in the hallway, he froze.

“Where were you?” I asked.

“Downstairs.”

“You went outside.”

“Just for a minute.”

“Why?”

He didn’t answer.

He simply went back to bed.

I stayed awake for the rest of the night.

By the following evening, I was finished guessing.

After dinner, I sat across from him.

“Enough. Why did you make us switch sides of the bed?”

“I told you.”

“No. You gave me an excuse.”

He went quiet.

“You’ve slept on the same side for seventeen years,” I continued. “Suddenly you insist on taking mine. You check whether I’m asleep. You watch every time I get out of bed. And last night, you went outside at three in the morning.”

David said nothing.

Then I asked the question that had been building inside me.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

He looked directly at me.

“Yes.”

My stomach dropped.

“What?”

David stood.

“Stay here.”

“David—”

“Two seconds.”

He disappeared toward the back of the house.

I sat there imagining every possible disaster.

Then he returned.

He was carrying something wrapped carefully in a towel.

He sat across from me and placed it gently on the table.

Then he unfolded the towel.

Inside was a kitten.

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